Ventura, Circled In Red
Wiritng by Daniel Bigelow
Photos by Daniel Bigelow & Luke Treat
I was born in Southern California, raised in Northern, and I don’t think I’ll ever live anywhere but here. This state is my home. From the countless mountain ranges to the giants we call redwoods to the endless rolling swells that break upon its shores, this place has enchanted me with its beauty and opportunity since before I could remember.
I’ve always been one for adventure. Something inside me craves getting up way too early, slamming a cup of coffee, and hitting the road. One lazy summer day in Redding, CA, me and my best bud Luke decided that’s exactly what we needed. A few weeks later, we loaded up my 74’ Jeep named Poncho with our camp gear, threw on our Patagonia fleeces, grabbed some road cuisine, and hit I-5 with Ventura circled in red on the map.
With a week or so off of work, we decided that the scenic route was the only way to take in as much of the coastline as possible. This would prove easy providing the fact that we decided to leave the doors at home. It may have been uncomfortable and cold, but damn it was beautiful.
Our first stop on the road was to refill our coffee cups and San Fransisco felt like the best option. We got off the 5 onto the 505, pointing Poncho’s front end towards the bay. After a short lunch overlooking the Golden Gate from the Marin Headlands, we descended into the fog and the noise. Luke lost his hat on the Golden Gate trying to get a photo of the towers and we had a good laugh.
The next stop was downtown to grab film for our cameras and a cup or two from our favorite bayside coffee shop, Sightglass. After successfully navigating the SF hills in our ol’ stick shift adventure mobile, we came out of the haze energized and ready to see the miles and miles of coastal foliage and ocean views that Highway One had to offer.
The first sight of the vast blue expanse from our passenger side took our breath away. Our souls were lifted and our eyes glistened. There was no feeling like it, flying down the coast in open eyed wonder at the beauty and enormousness of the Pacific. A quick photo stop later we forged on, rambling down the road with The Black Keys in our ears and smiles on our faces.
This went on and on for a long time, two spellbound boys just taking it all in. The next stop on our journey was Verve Coffee in Santa Cruz. Some friends from back home were in town, so we shared a cup of coffee then hit the road for the last stretch of the day. The end of the line was Pismo Beach, and we rolled in at about 8. It was cold, so a fire was the first priority, then food, then the tent, and then some much needed sleep.
The next morning our eyes opened to a misty, chilly day, but our spirits couldn't be dampened. We loaded Poncho up and decided that it was high time for some fun. About five minutes down the road, there was a beach that was open to drive on, so we decided to hit it and let it loose. After about an hour of donuts, dune climbs, and laughs, we hit the road, Ventura or bust!
Highway One was closed south of Pismo due to landslides, but we didn’t mind. The 101 was the only other option, and it took our breath away. The rolling hills along Highway 101 are a sight to behold, and a welcome change of scenery. A few hours later, we ended up in Santa Barbara and decided to stop and get lunch. We had the best sandwiches in the world at a cafe called The French Press, walked around for a few minutes, then rambled on down to our destination.
We arrived in Ventura around 5, happy to be there. Luke’s family lives there, so they volunteered to lodge us for our time there. After a bit of rest, we caught a sunset at the pier, had a home cooked meal for the first time in days, told stories around a campfire, then caught some z’s.
The sun was up early and Ventura was calling our names. After a cup from Prospect Coffee Roasters, we drove from one end of the city to the other stopping at some of our favorite shops like Patagonia and Iron & Resin. Next up was the beach for some mid day naps, playing in the surf and good hangs. We were content. That night it was to bed early, we had dawn patrol the next day.
We awoke before the sun, threw some borrowed boards on our reliable Poncho, and hit the beach. After a stop at Prospect for some beans and a beachside aero press coffee, we proceeded to surf from 9 until 5. Not a bad day at the office. Luke’s family joined us and we played in the waves like little kids. It was time to head to home base, and I gave Luke’s cousin a ride in Poncho. We dined on the best homemade pizza I’ve ever had, walked to the store, got frozen yogurt and rented a movie. It was the best sleep of our lives, we were content and happy thinking about all the waves we caught and smiles we had.
The next day was high time to head home, so we said our goodbyes and decided to take the trip in one day. We met some rad people on the way, had some great food, survived the traffic, and made it into our beds before the sun had set. Even though the trip was over, we were happy. We had the time of our lives and couldn’t wait for the next early morning where we could circle a city in red on the map, and hit the road.
With heavy eyes, I was happy to see it was almost sun up and light enough to justify waking up, though it seemed like I was awake all night. As calming as the sound of bugs, frogs, and the crashing waves from passing bass boats all night were, a pair of foam earplugs would’ve done me better. Jared sat up at the sound of my rustling sleeping bag. We both groaned and laughed at how visibly tired we both were even from 20 feet away but the excitement for the hike ahead was enough to get us moving for the day. We packed up, dropped off some gear at the truck just in case the canoe took on water, and paddled 3/4 of a mile across the lake. We pulled the canoe up the steep and loose gravel shoreline. If you wanted to see how much sand and gravel you can stuff in your sandals with your feet still in them, this was the perfect way to do it. It was a relief to swap out the sandals for trail shoes, but that was short-lived thanks to the field of dried scorpion weed we landed on. It’s one of those things that invokes frustration through an audible release of CO2 from your lungs. The burs are irritating and annoying, and no matter how many times you do laundry, you still have to pick them out of your socks every time you put them on.
