Showing posts with label Highway 1. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Highway 1. Show all posts

Friday, October 2, 2020

THE BIG SUR SUNSET—INSPIRATION TO THE BEAT GENERATION AND BEYOND




Is staying adventurous a state of mind? Probably.


I grew up a baby boomer and child of the Sixties. Experimentation was our rite of passage. We became flower children, world travelers, students of the universe. We turned on, tuned in, and famously dropped out. Eventually many boomers reversed position and joined the ranks of the daily grind, myself included. The media then re-named us yuppies.





Some stayed adventurous. You know who you are.


For me, travel has always been the key to holding on to my adventurous spirit, though Covid has put a leash on that for the time being.


Returning to the States after fifteen years living in Mexico, we settled down on the California coast. My husband and I bought a 1978 VW Westie and started trucking around California for fun. It was our third VW van. Paul had lived in our first Westie when he built our house on Maui. Now, years later, we found an exact replica of that long gone van, bought it, and named it Si Turtle. It was uncanny to find a duplicate, down to the electric lime green color. This one was different though: Paul installed a solar panel on top so we could plug in when we stopped for the night. We'd travel often to Big Sur, a magnetic draw for the Beat Generation's progressive thinkers: Jack Kerouac, Jack Cassidy, Allen Ginsburg, and the granddaddy of the movement, Henry Miller, who called Big Sur home from 1944 to 1962.






It's easy to see why the Beats couldn't get enough of the place. Layer after layer of mountains cascading down to the Pacific with Highway One streaming along in a series of breathtaking switchbacks. Your eyes can barely focus on the road—beauty attacks the senses. God help you if you're the one behind the wheel.



Maybe places—beautiful places—generate an adventurous spirit. In Big Sur I always feel I'm part of nature and part of the Big Sur beauty, the Beat Generation, and the hippie renaissance that spawned Esalan and gave us Nepenthe's, all rolled into one.


Big Sur's splendor-bending didn't end with the Beats. It was also an oasis to Joseph Campbell, Richard Brautigan, and gonzo journalist Hunter Thompson who just couldn't get enough.


Are they adventurous enough for you? I know I'm in.