On what had turned out to be a 16 week ‘Go Big or Go Home’ trip, it was time to do the Going Home bit. After Grants Pass in Oregon, we eked out our last few weeks of the trip on the California coast, with a week in Santa Cruz and a week in Santa Barbara, before finally heading home to Santa Clarita.

What a wet write off of a weekend driving down to Santa Cruz.

Santa Cruz:

As the weather transitioned to more of what we expected from California, we made the most of the waning after-work light to enjoy a brief sunset walk along the bluffs.

Other pleasant evenings gave us an opportunity to enjoy al fresco cooking and dining at the BaseCamp, it felt a long time since we’d been able to do that. I was well chuffed to find both Wholefoods and Trader Joe’s supermarkets within spitting distance of NextSpace (after what seemed like an eternity of sub-par grocery stores!). And for pre-dinner snacks, I was still working my way through the Canadian salt and vinegar crisps stash.

In keeping with our trend of bumping into friends and work colleagues, we met up with one of Darren’s Twilio buddies for a lighthouse promenade and beach walk.

As luck would have it, our penultimate week coincided with the reintroduction of Flex Fridays, meaning I got to take Friday off work. Which meant a sunrise walk and an opportunity to explore a bit more of Santa Cruz.

The Weekend:

The driving distances from one place to the next seemed tiny down here after Alaska. Getting to our next destination was measured in hours, not days. However, the rugged coastal drive down Big Sur, one of the coolest highways in California, is notoriously slow and winding with lots of scenic viewpoint distractions and hikes along the way. It’s been a few years since we’ve done the drive and we had the time, so why not.

Luckily, we checked on the roads before committing to the Big Sur drive. All that rain in last week’s storms had caused erosion and landslides, putting paid to any through trips. Plan B it is then.

We didn’t actually have a Plan B, so we pulled in for coffee and biscuits and a little chill out in the BaseCamp. Out came the phones, and while Darren was diligently doing some Google research, I had a quick skive on Facebook. I did a double take when I saw a FB post from our good friends Brian and Lindsay. They were in Monterey for the weekend celebrating Brian’s birthday. And we were about 10 miles from Monterey. Not days or even hours away, we were like right there.

A few frantic back and forth messages of the “No way?” “Way!” variety later, and we’d arranged to meet up for brunch. Yet another of those bizarre yet fortuitous meet ups – and we got to wish Brian a happy birthday in person. Cheers Brian & Lindsay, so great to see you!

With Big Sur out of the question, we headed inland and down the alternative 101 route. The wineland area of Paso Robles was just a few hours south, and we set our sights on nearby Tin City, a little huddle of wineries and other artisanal outlets, including gelato (ice cream), cider and Barrelhouse Brewing.

Santa Barbara:

Santa Barbara is only an hour and a half away from home (Santa Clarita), but we’ve never spent a full week there before. Nestled in the Santa Ynez mountains overlooking the Pacific Ocean, SB is an upmarket resort destination, often referred to as the American Riviera. If you want any more indication of its poshness, Meghan and Harry live in them there Montecito foothills.

I’m going to have to do you another stock photo, because yet again we were cursed by the weather. This time the gloom and doom of thick all-encompassing fog, with occasional clearer yet overcast patches.

We did have one evening – ONE – when it was clear. Perfect for a sunset wander along the Mesa and Arroyo Burro beach.

And then it was back to this…

My mum asked me to take a picture from the pier. She’s been here before and has a bit of a soft spot for Santa Barbara, being called Barbara herself. I think she was expecting something along the lines of the stock photo above. Sorry mum, here’s what we got!

And with that, it really did feel like it was time to call it a day. Go Big or Go Home? I’m officially renaming the trip Go Big AND Go Home!

Just one last border crossing to go to get us back into the US. I dutifully checked in advance a) it was open, and b) no Covid test required. The Canada US border represented a notable milestone on our Go Big Or Go Home trip, as we inched ever closer to home. So we were cheerful and upbeat as we rolled up to the customs booth. The customs official, unfortunately had gotten out of bed the wrong side that morning and cheery he was not. With the border closure still in place for Canadians, the crossing was super quiet. Which left the brunt of his sullen temper to be borne by us.

He handled our British passports with disdain and practically threw them back at us saying we should only have given him our US Resident Green Cards. Whoah, it’s not like we gave him a mouldy cheese sandwich! I think most people could be forgiven for innocently handing over their passport to a customs official.

Darren kept his cool with the questioning: “Any guns?” “Nope” “Any drugs?” “Nope” “Any alcohol?” “Erm, some wine and beer” “How much?” “Erm, about a Yeti cooler full”.

The interrogation continued. This guy was on a mission and he wasn’t going to stop there. Brutally, he handed us a red card and we were pulled over to the sidelines for a strip search. We opened the BaseCamp, laid bare at his mercy, as he brought in reinforcements with latex gloves. (I can’t help thinking one of them spotted us way in the distance and said “ooh look, there’s one of those cool BaseCamps, let’s pull it over so we can have a proper look inside”).

After an eternity of searching, the SWAT team emerged from the BaseCamp triumphant, satisfied smiles all around. They skulked off back into the shadows as just one official approached us, arm raised holding some confiscated contraband found in our trailer. At this point, I started getting nervous. I had an undeclared stash of Canadian salt and vinegar crisps – I was really hoping they weren’t going to confiscate those. At the same time, I was pretty confident we had no drugs or guns.

As the customs official drew closer, we could see that she was brandishing a punnet of blueberries. As part of the earlier interrogation, we’d admitted to carrots and onions but forgot the damn blueberries. Turns out they were illegal blueberries from Peru. This time and this time only, we were to get away with a telling off, a wagging finger and a slap on the wrist. And they got to keep the blueberries.

Seemed like a lot of drama but with that we were on our way. And I made a mental note to add to my next border crossing checklist: check it’s open, check on Covid requirements, check we’ve got no blueberries!

Of course, no pics at the border (didn’t dare add that to our list of misdemeanors). But here we have the next section of the trip, as we continued down through Washington, and into Oregon.

Astoria, Oregon:

The Weekend: The Oregon Coast

Grants Pass, Oregon

From Whitehorse down to Squamish in British Columbia (near Vancouver) is just shy of 1,500 miles. So another three day driving weekend was needed, with 10+ hours on the road each day. Rather than just reverse our northbound journey on the Alcan, we turned off at Watson Lake and took the Cassiar highway instead.

No great wildlife pictures unfortunately but we did see mooses galore, even a few bears. I’ll spare you another detailed road trip post – I tried to pick out just a few photo highlights this time – here you go.

We arrived to a drizzly overcast Squamish and that’s pretty much how it stayed. Seemed like a nice enough place, what little of it we could see through the oppressive grey clouds and relentless rain. Morning, noon and night through the week, the rain persisted.

The poor BaseCamp is a SoCal gal (like my good self), not made for this nonsense. The campsite was heavily forested, the BC tucked hiding among the trees, craving shelter from the elements. To no avail. The trees captured the rain in their leaves, collecting water more effectively than an inverted umbrella, only to hurl it down in large water bombs. The false sense of protection from the trees belied their wicked sense of humor. We patched up the worst of the BaseCamp leaks outside. Inside, the supporting cast of dishcloths, sponges and good ole kitchen roll did their bit to stem any remaining inflow.

I happily stocked up on Horlicks, mint sauce, Galaxy minstrels and sherbet lemons. No crisps but I’ve rather got a taste for Canadian crisps now anyway.

All the while, our work life continued at Aligned Collective.

And then one day, just like that, the rain stopped raining and the clouds cleared. Before our eyes, Squamish was revealed in all its glory. I did a double take. We were surrounded by mountains we didn’t even know existed.

After two weekends of heavy mileage on the road, we felt the need to stay put for a weekend – to enjoy our surroundings and get back to some of that hiking and biking we know and love. And as luck would have it, a friend of ours Martin was staying at a condo in nearby Whistler.

Which meant that the boys had each other’s company to go play at being boys on their mountain bikes. They did some hardcore trails, steep muddy single tracks and obstacles. I think they call that fun. Anyway, it freed me up nicely to go pootle around Lost Lake on wide, gentle, unassuming gravel trails. My main obstacles were unruly toddlers on rental trikes.

Some rather exceptional food and drink followed, courtesy of the Rimrock Cafe. Which is the most decent place we’ve dined out at in a long time. It is nothing like a cafe and every bit like a restaurant, the only exception being they let riff raff like us in.

Come the next day and we were delighted to find it wasn’t raining 🙂 Perfect hiking weather then! Off we popped to Joffre Lakes Provincial Park to do a steady uphill trail climb with stunning scenery, waterfalls and glacier-fed turquoise lakes.

The Joffre Lakes Trail is unsurprisingly one of the most popular hikes in the area. It’s also one of the most popular hangouts for Whiskey Jacks (also known as Canadian Jays). These grey and white feathered friends are bold yet endearing. They politely introduce themselves to tourists by landing on their outstretched arms to say “Hi”. (“Hi and what’ve you got to eat”, more like.)

After a rewarding hike and a weekend that really felt like a weekend, all that remained was to hit the brewery. A well-earned beer at The Beer Farm.