In another way our Coasting trips often begin here at Morro Bay, because we don’t seem to fly beyond there unless going at least to Monterey.
There’s usually a softness about this place, often with the halo of cloud over the rock and the row of her Sisters lined up from blue bay into the gentle distance. Cutting across inland a little toward the hills above San Simeon we see smaller siblings like this standing silent among the trees where few will see more than a glance from afar.
Then our trusty Tripp dutifully lofts us up for a glance at Hearst Castle. Renovations and drought have converged to drain the iconic aquamarine pool where William’s parties once blared into the night.
We glide quietly past and back down to the beach where motorists pause to stroll between two parking lots and gaze at the Piedras Blancas Elephant Seal Rookery.
Then we look off past Point Piedras Blancas to what is for us properly the start of Big Sur, into the distance where flat meets mountains and brown yields to green.
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