Postcard from San Diego, California. I left the car rental center early, challenging Los Angeles’ infamous morning commute, to get to the furthest western point of another bucket list item: Mulholland Drive. A dreamy and hypnotic road stretching like a snake on the hills above LA. The morning mist might have been responsible for the disappointing lack of views, but it made the drive hazy and magical. David Lynch would have approved. Right at the end of the road, the sun came out, this time to stay, making the earlier switch to a convertible finally worthwhile. A couple of hours later, after a strenuous but victorious fight against the vicious…

Postcard from Los Angeles, California. After a compulsory early detour inland to avoid the usual morning coastal mist, I drove most of the 100 miles right along the Pacific Ocean. As I questioned my luck about the once again gray sky and the questionable local radio music choices, I found comfort in hearing the GPS say “to Los Angeles” as if it knew it was a cool city to name. Once in LA, I returned the car because, like last year, a grand finale deserves something better than a midsize. But not having a car in the City of Angels is not an easy task. To add a layer of…

Postcard from Carpinteria, California. A short and quick-ish 135 miles driven mostly on the CA 1 South, with a couple of unnecessary diversions to get a break from the frenetic fast pacing highway and drive at my own – slow – speed in this first full day drive in Southern Cali, a region that boosts 300+ days of sunshine every year. Not this morning. Not this evening. The sunny afternoon though, in Santa Barbara, was pleasantly spent strolling between downtown and West Beach partly betraying my commitment to the holy tacos (+2) for a luscious lobster roll. Fair, I say. First swim in the Pacific Ocean: aborted. Way too damn…

Postcard from San Luis Obispo, California. I tried to enter the Cabrillo Highway as far north as possible to avoid a long drive back and forth, but it turned out that most of the roads cutting through the Big Sur mountains were closed. Hence, the first possible intersection with Highway 1 was a whopping 50 miles south of the northern point of closure, a mere 3 miles or less from Lucia, where I had to stop yesterday. Same landscapes, same breathtaking views, but little or no clouds this time. Less drama, less tragedy, no pathos. It felt wrong. San Luis Obispo. A pastel-colored mid-sized city right on the border between…

Postcard from King City, California Preamble: Last winter, part of Highway 1 collapsed in a few points due to particularly nasty weather hitting this region. As of today, coming from Monterey, the furthest south you can get is to the hamlet of Lucia. I started the morning procrastinating on leaving town, hoping for the fog and clouds to finally leave me alone. But after an hour or so of wandering along the pointlessly scenic 17-Mile Drive between a gray Monterey and an even grayer Carmel-by-the-Sea, I gave up, taking my chances and moving towards the Big Sur. A 130-mile (65*2) psychedelic round trip, driving up and down the rugged and…

Postcard from Monterey, California. Another relatively short leg, 139 miles of uneventful and almost anonymous driving, mostly along the coast on the Cabrillo Highway portion of the California State Route 1, or on smaller and less crowded streets sandwiched between the highway and the Pacific Ocean. After spending most of the morning drive complaining about the first real traffic I encountered in this road trip and about the once again disappointing weather, things got a bit better: the clouds stuck around a bit longer, almost teasing me – sunny and blue sky a few miles inland on my left, cloudy and gray over my head and over the ocean coast…

Postcard from San Francisco, California. The northern Cali cloudy morning weather tried hard to upgrade into a sunny day before unavoidably giving up right after Richardson Bay when the San Francisco-friendly usual misty-morning-tick-as-fuck-fog took over. One of the shortest leg of this road trip. 50 quick miles to get to the “The City” plus an additional 30 miles spent driving around San Francisco, ‘cause navigating through its fascinating neighborhoods is like being a supporting act in a 70s movie. Since parking on these steep streets ain’t an easy job if I don’t get an Oscar nomination this year, well, the system is rigged. Call it serendipity. I took a wrong…

Postcard from Napa, California. I started the day with a final farewell to the redwoods, driving along the Avenue of Giants, a 32-mile-long empty road: roof open, jazz on, and trees on both sides giving me their own version of a guard of honor. I didn’t get streamers and confetti at the end, but that’s ok. California State Route 1 towards wine country was nerve-wracking, foggy and curvy at first. It became relaxing, sunny and smooth the further south I went: the more yellow the vegetation, the bluer the sky, the smaller the pines. Once on the Sonoma Coast, I took a slight detour back north to get to the…

Postcard from Fortuna, California. It was drizzling when I took off in the morning: a mystic and cool experience under the redwoods umbrella at first, a scary and uncomfortable drive on the uncovered bald edge of the Northern California hills, engulfed in brumous, hazy fog right after. The two-hour hike at Prairie Creek helped me relax and confirmed my now forever-changed benchmark of what a tall tree is. Or what tall means, in general. Size matters but my favorites were those Freddy Krueger’s finger-like trees, coming out of planet Earth covered in moss, giving the universe an unapologetic finger. Damn poetic. Pursuing my goal of driving as little on the…

Postcard from Crescent City, California. Today’s ride gave me little opportunities to leave the, mostly sunny, highway 101. When that happened, a thick and stubborn fog covering the coast made reaching most of the viewpoints a pointless exercise. The one stop for lunch, to rest my already painful neck and take the PNW oysters final score to an honest 24 units, was definitely more meaningful. 229 pretty uneventful straight-as-it-gets miles, but the last 16: entering cloudy northern California meant my first encounter with the redwoods and a 45 or so minutes spectacular drive on an unpaved narrow road, zigzagging between incredible trees to reach the Stout Grove trail. The 2-mile-long,…

Postcard from Florence, Oregon. I took it easy in the morning, hanging around a buzzing and sunny Astoria to check a couple of Goonies locations out before leaving town to spend a little time chilling on Cannon Beach (“Hey you guuuys!”). In total it was a smooth 207 miles drive – in and out, up and down, the Oregon coast, taking any possible chance to leave the Highway 101 and drive at my own pace – ended with a crab cake and a glass of Willamette Valley Pinot by the water in Florence. I am starting seeing a pattern here: trees – ugly coastal cities – trees – breathtaking viewpoints…

Postcard from Astoria, Oregon. Another early morning meant driving the first part of today’s 336 miles in misty, foggy weather with white clouds still sleeping in the valleys and majestic conifers guarding both sides of the road. A few miles after Forks, I took a break from the 101 highway loop, heading towards the Hoh rainforest for a longer than expected easy hike among trees covered with clumps of hanging moss, stuck there silently hugging each other for thousands of year. Kinda romantic. Back to the coast right after leaving the rocks and driftwood of Ruby beach, it was heavy rain for about an hour followed by a sunny and…