I love to walk.  I have been reading the book, The Old Ways:  A Journey on Foot, by Robert MacFarlane and dreaming of places I want to walk.  Walking enables me to live in the moment and just think.  When I was working on my dissertation I would write, then walk, and then write again.  There is something about the putting of one foot in front of another that is tied to clarity of thought and ability to see what is around oneself. 

 MacFarlane points out that the relationship between thinking and walking is grounded in our linguistic history.  “To learn” means to acquire knowledge but in Old English “leornian means both “to get knowledge” and “to be cultivated.”  Earlier linguistic roots, the Proto-Germanic word “liznojan,” has the meaning of “to follow” or “to find a track.”   To learn is to follow a track.  Like MacFarlane, I have found walking as a process that enables thought—encounter—rather than the mere passage through space.

 A friend, who is also a walker, and I recently completed a COVID-deferred trip from San Francisco to San Diego which mostly involved following Highway 1 and finding a good track or two or three.   

We started our trip in Daly City, near the San Francisco airport.  On my flight to San Francisco, I had been reading, A Crack in the Edge of the World by Simon Winchester, which is about the 1906 San Francisco earthquake.  The epicenter of the earthquake was in Daly City just offshore between the coast and nearby Mussel Rock Island.  Daly City became a city as spillover from the earthquake and fire.  The San Andreas fault, which divides the Pacific and American plates, runs right under the city, which made me a bit unsettled staying overnight in Daly City.  The Pacific plate is moving north relative to the American plate.  Houses sit high above the spot where the fault line comes onto land and one of the controversies in California is that you are not told of the risk until after you have signed purchase agreements for houses.  The price of housing and mobility continue to incentivize land speculation over against risk mitigation. 

 We reached Mussel Rock Park, the earthquake epicenter, just as the sun was rising, ready to begin our journey and the search for good tracks.  We were soon on Highway 1, as well as on the Pacific plate. as the fault line moved inland from where we were.

 We didn’t go far before stopping for a walk at Mori Point.  This first walk was more of a coastal walk out to a point and along the causeway parallel to the ocean, with dogs and locals using the trails.  The trees seemed to be frozen in time from the constant westerly wind.

 The options for walks were plentiful so a short time later we explored Pescadero State Park.  Here we walked inland along wetlands, created by sand dunes migrating across streams, cutting them off from the ocean.  These lagoons created wonderful bird habitat.  We shared this environment with local school children who were on a fieldtrip.  These low wetlands within this larger earthquake zone made it high risk for the threat of tsunamis. 

The beautiful day and the wonderful walk could easily lull someone into ignoring the risk just like the awe of the view of the ocean along Highway 1 can make you forget about the tectonic forces that created the landscape.  You are only reminded when you see highway construction in areas where the road had washed out or structures diverting landslides from the roads.

 Our next stop was a hidden treasure.  We even had trouble finding it.  Greyhound Rock County Park presented itself just as a little cut in the coastal hillside.  But this cut housed a paved and very steep path that went down to the ocean.  Very quickly the rest of the world above disappeared as we descended and a rich range of colors in the vegetation surrounded us.  The surprise at the bottom was a colony of pelicans, thriving in the coastal environment which was a protected marine area.  We didn’t want to hike back up and join the world again. 

We had experienced three great tracks in just one morning before we reached Santa Cruz.  After lunch at a Mexican restaurant, we got diverted off Highway 1 to explore the Salinas Valley.  This valley, south of Santa Cruz, extends to the ocean and is a rich agricultural region.  Off the main road we were soon in an area of massive strawberry production and also saw brussel sprouts and lettuce growing. Everywhere we saw migrant workers in the fields.

 Once past the flatter agricultural lands south of Santa Cruz, the coast again became rugged as we headed to Monterrey and the Carmel Valley.  We made a quick stop in Monterrey and then drove up the Carmel Valley to our place for the night which was on the top of a mountain overlooking the valley.  We ended the day enjoying wine and cheese while overlooking the valley.

We began our next day just as the sun came up, so that we could drive down the mountain in the daylight yet get an early start.  Our first stop was Garrapata State Park.  We took a canyon trail away from the ocean that led us through Redwood groves along a tumbling stream.  We could have kept going forever and wished that we had walked further along this trail.  I would go back if I could…  What is it about some tracks that make you want to keep going?

 We continued along Highway 1 more as tourists rather than track-finders the rest of the day.  The highway goes through the Big Sur region, some of the most remote areas on the route.  The highway in this area was not completed until the 1930s and you can see the Depression Era conservation corp influence on bridges.  We stopped with all the other tourists at the Bixby Bridge. 

South of Big Sur, the land begins to open up into ranch land.  We stopped to see the Elephant Seals near San Simeon, the home of the Hearst Castle, but we had left the good tracks behind us.  We passed through Morro Bay with its iconic volcanic neck, a 581 foot high rock that is the remnant of an extinct volcano.  This volcanic neck is similar to Mount Manganui in the New Zealand city of Tauranga.  Each creates a low energy environment that has led to the deposition of sand, creating extensive sandbars across the bays.  If we had not had to reach Oxnard by dark, we could have stopped and explored Morro Rock.  When I go to Tauranga, I always have to take one walk around the mountain and one walk to the top. 

 We ended the day in Solvang just because it was there on the map—a Danish town in California!

 The next day we joined the traffic through Malibu and Santa Monica, viewing the famous pier from afar.  Eventually we had to join the freeway to San Diego.  San Diego provided its own kind of tracks.  Daily we walked down to the Pacific Beach pier and sat and drank coffee while watching the surfers.  One day we walked along the ocean near the La Jolla cove.  The newest thing is to pay for an elaborate picnic in public along the ocean.  I prefer just a walk on a good track with coffee, water, granola bars, and good company.

The final day we did one more good walk.  This time we went up the coast past La Jolla to Torrey Pines State Park.  The paths wind around and over enormous sand dunes and bluffs with the ocean always in sight.  It was our last walk down or along the ocean—the last track to follow.

 I love to walk.  Walking enables me to live in the moment and just think.  There is something about the putting of one foot in front of another that is tied to clarity of thought and ability to see what is around oneself.  To learn is to follow a track.