February 1 Big Sur to Camp San Luis Obispo
The drive from our campsite at Big Sur south toward Morro Bay and San Luis Obispo is a big blur in my mind. Until this day, I managed to keep a decent journal and after miles and miles of narrow, winding roads with magnificent ocean views around every curve, my journaling ability came to a screeching halt. Mo drove this last leg of the coastal highway so that I could relax and take as many photos as I wanted.
We pulled over a few times, but with weekend traffic beginning to build the turnouts were often full and there was no room for our rig. Instead we parked a bit distant from the “vista point” and I walked back up the highway to try to get the iconic photo. I was taking my life in my hands, as people were prone to cutting off the curve and driving on the shoulder, the very narrow shoulder where I was walking. I did manage to cross the highway, but that was a bit scary as well, with motorcycles roaring around the curve at the last minute and nearly mowing me down.
After this last set of photos, I decided we had enough photos of ocean and cliffs and settled in to simply enjoy the ride. This last section was still curvy and narrow, but the cliffs weren’t nearly as high and I was quite used to it by this time in our journey.
A stop at the elephant seal overlook was impossible. Cars were lined up along the highway both before and after the overlook and there wasn’t a speck of space. To our surprise, less than a mile south was another overlook, with cliffs and a walkway and elephant seals. The parking lot was nearly empty, and while there weren’t nearly as many seals as the official viewpoint, there were enough to see them up close and take a bit of a walk in the warming sunshine.
Mattie loved the walk and was very interested in the huge blobs down on the beach that had eyes and moved. We kept her from barking, but her tail was high and she was so very excited trying to figure out what in the world she was seeing.
We continued south toward Morro Bay, another place that I have wanted to spend time, but we were ready to turn east toward the desert. Morro Bay kayaking will have to wait for another trip.
By early afternoon we pulled into our campsite at Camp San Luis Obispo, just 5 miles or so west of the town of San Luis Obispo. A small army camp with a decent campground with only 12 sites, I am surprised that I was able to get reservations for this time of year only a couple of months in advance.
Camp San Luis Obispo has a fascinating history. Initially a California National Guard facility in 1850, it changed hands between the state and the US Army several times, before and after World War II and after the Korean War. Now again owned by the state of California, it is still used by the National Guard, and the Army for training and several notable military exercises.
We were settled in by 2:30 and asked ourselves…what to do? San Luis Obispo is a lovely small city of around 50 thousand people, with a charming downtown and the ambience that often comes with a university town. San Luis Obispo is home to California Polytechnic State University, and has one of the finest soils programs in the United States. Many of my co workers at NRCS are graduates of Cal Poly SLO.
Neither of us felt like shopping, I didn’t feel like hiking, and after reviewing the “things to do in SLO” we decided that visiting the local mission would be something different for us.
For the first time on the trip, the temperatures were in the low 80’s with clear sunny skies. Heaven! We let Mattie rest in the cool MoHo and headed toward downtown where the beautiful mission dominates an entire city block.
The history of the California missions is something taught in California schools, and the story of Father Junipero Serra’s journey to build missions and convert the ‘heathens’ to Christianity was considered a wonderful thing back in the 50’s when I was growing up in California. That history has more blemishes now that our culture looks a bit differently at what was done to the Native Americans, and the stories of the missions have changed a bit with more awareness.
Even though the cultural legacy is sometimes questioned, the architectural legacy is unmistakable. Whitewashed adobe walls, huge wooden beams, red tile roofs, arched colonnades, and bell towers are classic expressions of the Spanish style of California before it was part of the United States.
A story that is specific to the San Luis Obispo Mission is that Native Americans shot flaming arrows into what at the time was a thatched roof, prompting the missionaries to make clay roof tiles. After that, red tile roofs became the mission standard. The mission is now surrounded by a bustling downtown plaza and lush gardens, and the walls are adorned with art.
We enjoyed the main sanctuary of the mission and then entered the adjacent museum. We were surprised to find that the museum, once the residences of the friars and bishops, included room after room of displays and history. I especially enjoyed the display of the family trees of the prominent families that established the city of San Luis Obispo in the late 1700’s and early 1800’s. Many of the families overlapped, and intermarried, and we had fun hunting for names in the family trees from other trees.
The mission was beautiful, and a perfect way to entertain ourselves for almost nothing. We did have to pay $1.50 for metered parking. Isn’t it amazing how parking meters now take credit cards?
February 2 Camp San Luis Obispo to Orange Grove RV Park
One of my favorite things to do when in San Luis Obispo is to visit the Apple Farm for a great meal in a beautiful restaurant. I made online reservations the night before, knowing that Sunday would be a busy morning. Unsure of the parking situation, we would drive to town in the Tracker and return after breakfast to pack up the MoHo.
We had a great breakfast at the Apple Farm in January of 2012
Sunday morning we looked at each other and said, Nah, a fancy breakfast was an expensive waste of time, and dealing with the crowds didn’t sound like fun. I canceled the reservation with a couple of clicks and we were on our way. We drove south of town to gas up at Costco for 3.11 a gallon and headed back north on Highway 101 toward Santa Marguerita.
Google Maps refused to listen to my desire to travel over the coast range on Highway 58, so I simply ignored her dire warnings as we exited the freeway. A bit north of the little town of Santa Marguerita there were big signs warning of a narrow winding road and a limit of 30 foot length. I ignored the signs, after all, we had just traveled several hundred miles with those same warnings.
Within a few minutes, however, I realized that I shouldn’t have turned off the noisy google girl. I somehow managed to miss the Highway 58 turn where the signs were located and had continued north on the side road that paralleled Highway 101 to Atascadero. I realized the mistake when I saw signs for Highway 41, one of the routes Google had suggested.
It didn’t help that the fog was thick all the way from San Luis Obispo. I wasn’t paying attention enough to notice that we were still traveling north instead of east. In Atascadero, as we passed through town returning to Highway 41, we passed an incredible building. It was too early to visit, and we didn’t stop to take photos, but with a bit of research I found information about the truly incredible historic Atascadero City Hall. On a slower day, without a destination in mind, it would be worth stopping for a visit and taking a tour. The building was so impressive! I was driving, so once again didn’t manage a photo. Sadly, all the photos on the internet are privately owned stock images, but I would highly recommend taking a moment to check out this link to the historic building.
Continuing east on 41, we passed through rolling coastal hills, almost completely obscured by the heavy fog. Once we reached Highway 46 the fog lifted a bit, but there was still a dim haze over the sun as we approached the Great San Joaquin Valley west of Bakersfield.
We have driven to Orange Grove RV Park on Highway 58 dozens of times, but this time decided to take Google Girl’s advice and rather than going south on I-5, we continued east on Highway 33 all the way to 99. Perfect choice. No traffic, very few signals through the small town of Shafter, the location of Mattie’s first rescue at Shafter Critters. There was an easy interchange with Highway 58 toward Tehachapi. Once again, we navigated the construction that has been ongoing at this portion of Highway 58 for as many years as we can remember doing the route. It never ends, but it does look like it might be coming to a close.
We arrived at the park mid-afternoon, in time to secure our spot and then take each vehicle over to the free car wash area for a good cleaning. After all the miles, the rain, and the sandy mud, the MoHo and the Tracker were embarrassing. The car wash area is a nice amenity for the park, as are the free donuts and coffee in the morning and the excellent cable TV. We got set up in time to relax and watch the Super Bowl.
This is what we are used to seeing at Orange Grove but not this time
Another amenity of Orange Grove RV Park are the oranges. Built in an orange grove, campers are given bags and long orange pickers to gather fresh ripe oranges from the surrounding trees. Something didn’t look quite right this time. The trees were very nearly barren of oranges. The girl at the desk gave me some kind of story about how campers came through with trucks, loading oranges into boxes to take away and sell. I asked if they did it under cover of darkness, and she said that it happened during the day as well.
Another shot from 2015 with orange on the trees.
Then a bit later, she mentioned that the park had been sold the previous October. Mo and I both think that the entire story is very fishy, and the new owner probably sold the oranges and left a few for the campers. I managed to find enough to fill a small bag, but they weren’t in very good shape, with some of them quite sour. Not what we are used to at Orange Grove. The park fee is now $50.00 per night with the AAA discount. When we first started camping here it was $28.00. We justified the high price in the past because of the lovely oranges and the free car wash. Now it will be mostly the car wash that keeps us coming here, maybe. I can buy a bag of sweet good oranges nearby for only ten bucks.
Tomorrow, after a week on the road, we will head east toward Desert Hot Springs. It has been an amazing slow journey instead of our usual 3 day, 2 night run to get to the desert sunshine. I have loved most every single minute, an especially beautiful healing trip for me at a time when I needed it most.
The good news is that yes, we are on the road at last. This time, however, we are traveling with family. Quite different for the two of us. Mo’s brothers, Dan and his wife Chere, and Don and his wife Wynn, are traveling with us as far south as Desert Hot Springs. It has been fun, and somewhat different, traveling in a caravan. We are in the lead, since we supposedly know more about this route.
Brother Dan and his wife Chere at the rest area on I-5 with the gorgeous Mt Shasta in the background
It was only a little bit easy, since the big rigs still had to be incredibly careful to get through the gate and pointed in the right direction down the driveway. Our driveway is simple gravel and not exactly flat, but at least level enough that the guys could level their rigs. We also managed to get power to all the rigs, and hooked up hoses so that Don could take on water. 
The weather cooperated beautifully. So many times when Mo and I have embarked on this journey we have had to deal with fog and ice and snow and all sorts of bad weather. With a huge storm pounding the Northwest just days earlier, it was wonderful to see clear skies and dry roads, even over the highest point on I-5 between Mexico and Canada.
It took a bit longer to get to Lodi, our first scheduled stop, because getting three rigs going after stops instead of one takes a bit more coordination. We stopped at the gorgeous rest stop with views of Mt Shasta, and again at the rest stop close to Red Bluff. By then it was noon and time for lunch, and with dog walking and lunch making, that stop turned into an hour. With a gas stop in Dunnigan, which may or may have not been necessary, we rolled into Flag City around 4pm. The distance between our house and Flag City is 371 miles, and our rig can do about 400 on a tank. Dunnigan has an easy in and out Pilot, and is just 60 miles north of our destination. The price of fuel at the Flying J was exactly the same as the Pilot in Dunnigan, $2.77 per gallon for regular. Diesel fuel is much more expensive this year, but I didn’t pay attention to the price. Dan’s rig used diesel and the rest of us are gasoline.
Driving through the area burned last fall along I-5 is shocking. excuse the window shot.
The MoHo looks so tiny next to all the big rigs. We love our small rig!
We had an uneventful and delightful day today, continuing south on I-5 through brilliant late winter green hills. Overlooking the wide valley, with heavy fog/smog to the east, we were glad for the choice to travel the 5 instead of going south on 99 through the Central Valley towns. The pavement wasn’t half bad, with many areas smoothed out from what we remember from past years. The truck traffic was heavy and fast, however, and with three motorhomes in our caravan, there were a lot of lane changes. 
We rolled in to Orange Grove RV at 2:30, in plenty of time to settle in before evening and show the family around the park. Everyone was thrilled with the sweet oranges and in no time we had our bags filled. This year the crop is a bit different, with many small oranges instead of the big oranges we are used to picking here. Ah well, free oranges are wonderful, and the little guys are just as sweet as ever. Time for a couple of weeks of fresh orange juice.
I know I write about this almost every single year, but I just get so excited thinking about the oranges that are waiting for me at Orange Grove RV Park. I don’t even eat them, I juice them. Crazy, I know, but with those big bags of juicy sweet oranges, I can have the luxury of making fresh orange juice every single day for at least a couple of weeks. I can barely stand to drink OJ from a store any more.
Sometimes they have signs saying “please only one bag per rig”, and that bag is a small plastic garbage bag. This time, however, with most of the low hanging fruit gone from the trees between sites, they had no such restrictions. Instead, the maintenance man came up to tell me about their additional grove that is just a bit west of the main campground, loaded with oranges all the way down to the ground, and free for the picking. I, like many others I saw, filled a grocery bag or two, and they weren’t small plastic ones, they were big Trader Joe’s cloth bags. I took enough to last as long as I thought they could stay fresh without refrigeration. 