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California Stars, Part 1
Behind the wheel, I’m cruising along the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH). The windows are rolled down, and the sound of ocean waves crashing against the rocks blends perfectly with whatever tunes are blasting from the stereo. The hills are brushed with the most vibrant green and gold hues I’ve ever seen, dotted with wildflowers that bloom sporadically. I watch the foliage sway—almost in slow motion—as my car wheels glide past the growth lining the pavement. I’m bundled up; it’s a bit chilly, but not cold enough to deny myself the feeling of wind blowing through my hair. As the sun sinks over the sea, its rays catch the lens of my auburn shades.
This is freedom.
This is bliss.
This is California.
Sounds like a dream, right? Well… that’s because it is. This was a dream I had several years back, but because I've surrounded myself with friends who go along with my antics, it became our reality. Five girls. Ten days. Roughly 1,300 miles of every landscape imaginable—cities, beaches, forests, mountains, canyons, one-light towns, vineyards, and more. In short, the adventure of a lifetime.
We started in Los Angeles, flying into LAX bright and early with oversized duffel bags, a tent, sleeping bags, and backpacks in tow. I made the group pretty angry when I refused to rent a minivan—which would’ve given us extra space—but sorry, I’m not ready to feel like a “soccer mom” just yet. Sure, it was a tight squeeze, but honestly, it added to the comedy of it all.
After solving the puzzle that was fitting all our luggage into the car, we spent the day exploring Los Angeles. The Griffith Observatory was my personal favorite. I mean, how could you not fall in love with those views? Oh, and I got a pretty good laugh out of my friends trying to spot celebrity homes from that hilltop.
Naturally, we also made the obligatory stop at In-N-Out Burger, which at the time I swore was one of the best meals I’d ever had. In hindsight, I realize that was due to exhaustion, hunger, and the fact that we waited in line for forty-five minutes! So much for the concept of “in and out.” Note to self: apparently everyone and their momma wants a burger at 3:50 p.m. on a Saturday.
But what a way to kick off our California adventure!
That night, we crashed at a hotel in Ventura and woke up bright and early to begin our route toward Big Sur.
This was our introduction to the PCH I had been dreaming about—and it did not disappoint. Of course, we made stops along the way: Santa Barbara for shopping (vintage shops there are 10/10), and Morro Bay for delicious fish tacos at Tognazzini's Dockside Restaurant. To our surprise, lunch came with a live performance by an older local man serenading us with Elton John classics—in full costume. Yes, really. Coincidentally, his name was Daniel. Elton fans, you get it. Afterward, we continued down our own “yellow brick road” to Monterey, where we stocked up on groceries before heading back down to our campsite in Big Sur.
That drive from the grocery store was the most intense déjà vu I have ever experienced—a scene pulled straight from my subconscious imagination. I even pinched myself several times to make sure I wasn’t dreaming again. The setting sun, shimmering shorelines, windows down, waves crashing, Wilco’s “California Stars” playing through the speakers, rolling hills—it checked all the boxes. Eventually, we couldn’t resist. We pulled over at an alcove and ran down to the water, where we were greeted with some truly massive waves. Suddenly, we were little kids again—sprinting to and from the water, laughing, shrieking, and giggling like schoolgirls.
Being on that beach was the first moment on the trip where I really had time to pause. Sitting there, watching my friends and the waves, the reality of traveling across the country with some of my favorite people settled in—and my gratitude, much like the tide, overflowed.
After our oceanside detour, we hopped back in the car—flooding the floorboards with sand, of course—and headed to our home for the night: Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park. If I had to describe this place in one word, it would be mystical. The drive in felt like entering a childhood fairytale. Towering redwoods, babbling brooks, and a soft fog welcomed us. After parking, we couldn’t wait to explore—and the magic only multiplied. We set up camp next to the river, where fallen logs stretched from bank to bank and doubled as a jungle gym for five girls desperate to stretch after hours on the road. But the real entertainment came when it was time to set up the tent.
Our group’s outdoor skill set ranged from one girl who literally studied outdoor education in college to another who had to borrow a sleeping bag from her boyfriend. So you can probably guess who took the lead in assembling the tent. As for me, I brought the tent and definitely could’ve helped… if I weren’t too busy laughing and recording everyone else struggling. Sorry, ladies.
Eventually, though, we erected a pretty impressive campsite, if I do say so myself. The tent stood tall, the fire crackled, and we gathered for a night filled with storytelling, singing, laughing, dancing, hair braiding, and pretty much every summer-camp stereotype you can imagine. We had quite the time that evening underneath those California stars.
Our time in Big Sur was simply incredible, but there’s plenty more to share from our grand adventure—from hopping around Carmel to fighting off termites in Yosemite to running through the streets of San Francisco. With that said, stay tuned for more stories from our time within those California state lines.
Until then, cheers, friends.
—Anabel
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