I took an unexpectedly tootling road to Montana de Oro. It made Crooked Island Road of my childhood look like child's play. Here is one of the lovely views I encountered on the curvy way.
Here is one of the paths to the ocean at Montana de Oro.
Okay, just a reminder for my East Coast friends, the beaches around here aren't warm. The water is cold, and only tourists wear bathing suits. I was not the only one dressed like this. Surfers wear wetsuits, and I don't know how they stand the cold with their hands and feet sticking out.
I walked a couple of miles along the coast and then climbed up the base of the cliff into a cleft and enjoyed myself, pulling out my notebook and writing for a while.
From where I sat the ocean looked navy blue -- mostly it was a bright teal.
I wanted so badly to climb to the top of this rock, and I was a good girl-- traveling by herself -- and restrained myself, so the kind people playing on the shore wouldn't have to take me to the emergency room.
This beach didn't have sand -- just stones that made a magical noise when the surf turned them over and over.
There was a whole hillside covered in orange nasturtium.
I didn't go on this trail because of the bobcat.
Don't feel too sorry for me. I ate my dinner here by Morro Bay. You can see the fog bank coming in.
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