On Saturday, after some of us completed half-marathon training runs, and others slept off late nights, we all hopped in the car and drove down to Big Sur.  During our strenuous nonstop uphill workout hike in Marin last weekend we were all talking about how much we wanted to go camping and thought, why not go next weekend?  So we just booked it.


After checking into our tents at Fernwood, we watched the sunset at Nepenthe, and then warmed up next to our tent-side fire over some cider + goldschlager (have you guys ever tried this combo? It’s really delicious) before dinner.  Some of us proooobably could have spent a few more years in Boy Scouts earning their fire-making badge, but we made due, eventually. It may not have been the best idea to camp in the middle of January. More on that in a bit (#californiarookies).

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       After fireside failures, we walked up the hill to the tiny lodge restaurant on the Fernwood camping grounds.  We ate pizza, drank wine, made new friends, and listened to some live folk music.  We were officially camping…wait, I take that back.

The moment I realized we were officially camping was when I woke up to the 3:30 AM alarm to add more wood to the stove in our tent to avoid getting frostbite, and climbed back into bed while mumbling something about our fire being a needy newborn.


     The next morning, we stopped into Big Sur Bakery for soy cafe au laits, ginger scones, and chocolate croissants (split with Bridge).  Should you decide to freeze your butts off at Big Sur, don’t skip this step.  Maybe do skip the tent, and reserve a room that has real walls.  

We spent the rest of the day hiking along the coast, picking our jaws up off the dusty trails wondering if we were still in California (and then I saw a grey humpback whale, and it officially became one of the greatest days ever).


^^somebody got a little too close to the water^^

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We chose to close our chilly weekend, ironically, with blizzards.  It was perfect. 

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