Traveling south on the Pacific Coast Highway to Los Angeles, I knew that there was a road closure coming up due to landslides and other weather-related issues. As we got closer to this area, my husband began to see signs warning that the road would soon be coming to an end.
Mister Rain noticed the Big Sur Visitor Center, pulling into the lot. Once inside the building a man behind a large counter was speaking to a couple with British accents. When they were finished and left, we moved up to where they had been standing. “We were wondering when we would pick up the detour?,” I asked.
The man whipped a half sheet of paper from somewhere under the counter. “There is no detour! What YOU PEOPLE don’t understand, the road is gone and we may never get it back. I gave out 300,000 of these in the last year. There is no detour. You have to go back up north to Monterey then follow these directions.”
We were very surprised by the news but completely shocked into silence by this man’s attitude. My husband and I just looked at the other. I took the paper without a word and “you people” left the building.
The couple from the UK was out by their car, parked next to ours. The gentleman was smoking a cigarette. “Welcome to America. That guy is out of control,” I offered. “Yeah!,” the man replied, adding, “What is wrong with him?” We spoke for awhile, sharing what we all had been doing during our time in California. Finally we said goodbye, both of us turning out of the lot in the same direction from which we had come.
It had taken us two hours to get from Monterey to here because we had frequently pulled over to take photos and enjoy the phenomenal views, but the trip back only took 40 minutes without the stops.
Once again in Monterey we connected with US-101 South, passing through miles and miles of farmland instead of the Pacific Ocean, had the road not been closed. On this no-detour detour we went by Laguna Seca, the racetrack which I had no knowledge of but Mister Rain did, and also the Driscoll company, as in strawberries. Now every week when I open the plastic container full of one of my favorite fruits, I sometimes trace my finger over the label, knowing exactly where they came from. Neither of these were sights we had expected to see when we got up that morning but they were still fun to get a look at.
After our phenomenal two hour scenic-filled drive from Monterey to Big Sur, our abrupt 40 minute return trip to Monterey and then the two hours it took to reconnect with the PCH in Morro Bay two hours later, we unloaded the car at our hotel. I tucked the paper with the directions in my bag., thinking that I might frame it when we got home as a reminder of these two things:
No matter how painstakingly you prepare your itinerary, the only real travel planner is Mother Nature.
And a detour only means instead of de tour over here we are going to do de tour over there.
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