California Campervan Road Trip | Part 2: Morro Bay to Monterey to Yosemite | Pure Magic and an Independent Female Soul

California Campervan Road Trip Part 2: Morro Bay

The grand solo adventure of my California campervan road trip began on Tuesday, May 4, after parting ways with friends in Malibu. After meeting up with a handful of friends during the first four days of my trip, I was ready for eight days of quality alone time.

The three-hour drive from Malibu to Morro Bay up Highway 1 and US-101 consisted of soft green rolling mountains. Los Padres National Forest hugs the coast, and its forest green and brown views were very much enjoyed by me as I drove along singing to Ellie Goulding’s words of self-love in her Brightest Blue album with my windows rolled down.

I stopped at a thrift store in the charming coastal town of San Luis Obispo. I had unfortunately lost my hat during the boat ride to Channel Islands National Park, and my scalp and face were pretty mad about it. I needed a hat badly, so I found a $6 thrifted sunhat for the rest of my ocean adventures. Perfect!

Before I made it to my campsite for the night, I hiked along the beach and cliffs in Montana de Oro State Park. By this point in my trip, I was becoming more accustomed to insanely beautiful coastal cliffside ocean views. But I’m telling you, the views could never get old, and every single sight along Highway 1 was striking.

I stayed the night at Morro Strand State Beach Campground in Morro Bay and parked my campervan on pavement adjacent to the sandy beach. I had an ocean view for the night, which meant I got to sleep to the sound of the crashing waves.

The family that camped next to me was very friendly. The two little girls showed me their shell collections and very curiously questioned me in an apparent interview. Where are your parents? Why are you wearing those clothes? Why did you paint your van so pretty? They were also fascinated that my name was Jessi because that meant I was Jessie the cowgirl from Toy Story.

After cooking dinner and melting under the orange glow of the setting sun, I went to sleep pretty pleased with myself for surviving the first day alone.

The following gray and foggy day prompted an eerie feel. I sauntered along a boardwalk that overlooked the sea in Cayucos, and though I couldn’t see much through the fog, I felt at peace during the quiet morning. Sipping on a matcha latte and munching on a muffin, I wrote for a bit in an adorable coffee shop called Luna Coffee Bar. Their outdoor seating was surrounded by a colorful flower garden!

California Campervan Road Trip Part 2: Big Sur and Monterey

Highway 1 between Morro Bay and Monterey was one of the most beautiful and captivating drives I’ve ever made. Rolling green hills that seemed to go on and on and on in the distance covered the landscape to my right as I continued north. The hills were speckled with colorful wildflowers, horses, and cows. To my left was a rugged cliffside that dropped off into a vast blue mass called the Pacific Ocean.

After about a half hour of driving, I saw signs announcing elephant seals, so naturally, I followed them. A foul odor was detected in the parking lot off Highway 1 at the Piedras Blancas Elephant Seal Rookery before I saw anything. The source of the smell was quickly understood once I walked to the edge of the cliff and looked down. Hundreds of elephant seals lined the beaches! These creatures were so precious, basking under the sun, flipping sand on their backs to keep them cool, rolling in the waves, and bouncing along the sand to greet their family members.

According to the information board, between December and March, elephant seals give birth to pups weighing between 60 and 80 pounds. Between March and April, pups are nursed and then taught how to swim, dive and forage in the sea. Between April and August, elephant seals come ashore to molt, which is what I witnessed on that May day. These creatures grow to be between 900 and 5,000 pounds and can dive up to 6,000 feet deep for up to two hours! I loved them.

After hanging out with the elephant seals, I traveled a short distance to Ragged Point, which is an adorable little area complete with a couple of food options, a gas station, and hiking trails. It sits right on the cliffside and overlooks an insanely stunning drop-off view of the ocean. The trail I meandered on was so steep that a rope had been nailed to the ground to aid hikers climbing up and down the hill.

The drive continued to wind tightly between towering hilly cliffside and ocean, although I was not always aware of how steeply the road dropped off towards the ocean because it was a cloudy day. At first, I was disappointed that the dramatic views were stifled by the rolling fog that hovered. I wanted to see the sights, so I willed it to move along and disappear. But there were moments where I would round a particularly tight turn and get smacked in the face with intense green walls of mountain and crashing blue and white waves way down below. The fog would lift suddenly in patches, which added to the intensity of my drive.

The beautiful views had been there all along, and I realized the fog didn’t need to lift for the magic of Highway 1 to light up my heart. I deemed the fog just as beautiful as the views hidden underneath because of the way it gently caressed the cliffside and hovered like a loving parent over the sea. It felt like protection, and during the moments it disappeared and left a vibrant scene in front of me, my heart could feel a jolt from the electrifying shock. The beauty was even more intoxicating when I wasn’t expecting it.

Continuing north, I stopped for two short little hikes to two waterfalls: Salmon Creek Falls and McWay Falls.

Around Ragged Point, I lost service and that continued for next two hours of my drive. An automatic trigger in my brain made me a little uneasy when I noticed the service had gone. I have a history of having an intense fear of getting lost and I tend to fantasize about horrific “what if” scenarios. Thanks, Generalized Anxiety Disorder.

But I’m telling you, something was different about this trip. Perhaps because I was completely alone I had no choice but to trust myself unconditionally. Perhaps adventuring solo reassured me because I knew I got to make all of my own decisions and proceed in the way I wanted to without a single outside influence. Or maybe I was finally doing exactly what I wanted, what I’d been dreaming about for years, and that calmed my soul. But I truly felt next to no anxiety during this entire section of solo travel. I only felt alive, fulfilled, and genuinely so incredibly happy.

After driving through the mystical redwood forest of Big Sur, I knew I was approaching Bixby Creek Bridge. Adrenaline spiked in my chest because that bridge was the iconic view that always popped into my mind as I daydreamed for years about my future fantasy trip to Big Sur. Very conveniently, an inspiring and beautiful song called Wanderer by Mogli was up next on my chill mix playlist. It started playing about a mile before the bridge, and I got to listen to her words of wanderlust as I traveled over this bridge, with green jungle Hawaiian vibes to my right and the misty sea to my left.

It’s a peculiar thing when you’ve been dreaming about something for so long and then it finally comes true. The image and feeling you conjure up beforehand is not the same as real life. It’s often fantasized and blown up so that sparkles and magic rain down on you while you close your eyes and visualize. But in that very precious moment when I greeted my dream in real life, the sparkles were really only replaced by the mist. It was more three-dimensional and raw in present time than it was in my head. It was greater than what I had imagined, and this fact reassured my creative and whimsical brain – it is okay to get lost in your fantasies. It will not dampen the real experience because they are two separate, individual, and equally important experiences. The real thing is raw. The fantasy is magical. And they will intersect into a beautiful ‘splosion. 😊

After a day full of wonder, I reached the adorable coastal town of Carmel-By-the-Sea. I was very excited for the Carmel and Monterey segment of the trip because of the views I saw in the tv show Big Little Lies with a cast full of actresses I adore. Carmel-By-the-Sea was stocked full of precious shops and restaurants. The air felt like love and sea mist.

I treated myself to a fancy dinner at the French-Italian La Bicylette Restaurant. I sat outside in the perfect weather and helped myself to a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and a wood-fired mushroom pizza. That night I took my first peek at my home for the next three nights. The Saddle Mountain Ranch Campsite was really nice! Even the showers were nice! And my campsite looked out over gorgeous Carmel valley.

The following Thursday morning was a hiking day. The views had cleared up; no more fog! After walking along Carmel beach, the drive to Big Sur began. I passed over Bixby Creek Bridge again, and this time the views of the sea were even more incredible. The water was soooo blue!

A hiked a three-mile loop amongst the redwoods in Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park. The hike was called Buzzards Roost Trail, but my hike started a bit before the trailhead because I found a convenient parking spot on the side of Highway 1. Every second of this hike was full of views. As I gained elevation, the green mountains shifted angles, and when I reached the peak, I was pleased to find ocean views!

After that lovely workout, I headed to Pfeiffer Beach, which was a secluded little beach near Big Sur. The rocky cove was full of wildlife, so I explored after having lunch in the sand and made friends with crabs and starfish. I’m not sure if there is a better sound than the crash of ocean waves against the shore. How can a sound be exhilarating, soothing, and inspiring all at once?

Friday morning quietly began with eating granola and gazing out at the Carmel valley. Then I went to Monterey for a matcha latte and explored Cannery Row while I FaceTimed my boyfriend. Nino loved the classic novel by John Steinbeck, so I allowed the book to come to life for him through my screen as I strolled along the street. It seemed that a lot had changed since the fiction novel was written in 1945.

California Campervan Road Trip Part 2: Santa Cruz

The rest of my day was spent in Santa Cruz. I hid from the great orange ball in the sky under my sunhat, as my skin was still burnt and peeling from my days in San Diego. I brushed past Natural Bridges State Park and then headed to the laundromat, which was really quite fancy. While my clothes were drying, I walked a mile to Twin Lakes State Beach and splashed in the ocean so that my sandals were soaked and my pants were wet from the knees down. Along the walk, I passed by a harbor full of boats and imagined for a moment what it would be like to live in Santa Cruz, own a boat, and head out into the ocean on the weekends.

That evening I hung out on a secluded and rocky part of Capitola Beach. I tried to watch the surfers, but my eyes had become so dry that I was blinking rapidly and leaking tears for about two hours. I just closed my eyes, listened to soothing music, and embraced the wind blowing my hair and cold rocks under my feet. I was oddly grateful for an excuse to chill out and relax instead of feeling the need to see and do more.

I eventually made my way to the North Pier and hung over the edge to watch the fisherman below and the white caps of the ocean out towards the horizon. I had dinner at Zelda’s in a cute and colorful village in Capitola. Grilled seabass, island rice, seasoned vegetables, and two glasses of Chardonnay went beautifully with an ocean view.

On the drive home, I stopped at REI to pick up some hiking gear and to ask a worker for advice for a solo traveler heading to Yosemite. His biggest tip was to buy a bear cannister because bear spray wasn’t allowed in the National Park and bears tend to rip off car doors to get to food. But… the bear cannister was $80 and I definitely didn’t have room in my suitcase for it… so I took a risk. No bear protection. I feel like normal me would have been freaked out and bought the bear cannister. But I felt so much more free and confident on this trip. I just knew it wasn’t going to be necessary. And I mean, if a cute little black bear approached my van, I’d be happy to say hi even if my skin erupted in frightened goosebumps.

California Campervan Road Trip Part 2: Yosemite National Park

On Saturday, I drove to Yosemite National Park from my campsite in Carmel-By-the-Sea. I loved watching the landscape mold from ocean to rolling green and brown hills to dry brown desert to evergreen forest highlands to sharp, towering white-capped mountains.

I lost service about an hour and a half outside of Yosemite National Park, and that trend continued for three days. I only had service in Yosemite Valley near the village or in random surprising spots high up in the mountains for a few minutes. Reception was spotty though, so I only used my phone to update my family and boyfriend that I was alive and well and to capture photos and videos. I never clicked on any of my social media icons, and I used physical paper maps to find my way instead of Google maps. I’m so incredibly proud and shocked that I – Jessi Elder of Generalized Anxiety Disorder, one with an intense fear of getting lost – roughed it for three days with no service, no campsites, and no showers; completely alone.

I became so maddeningly alive out there that I met a new side of myself. It’s a part of me that existed when I was a little girl, naïve, confident, and brave as hell. She was back, but with a more logical and rational approach. I am not a daredevil, but I sure am adventurous! I love it that way! To feel the most alive, you have to leave your comfort zone behind in a dark alley and venture out into the bright and mysterious unknown. As Sirius Black once said, “What’s life without a little risk?” I’d die of boredom and unfulfillment if I didn’t do things that scared me.

Before the start of my trip and throughout it, when talking to people from back home, I heard a lot (I mean a LOT) of: Be careful, Jessi. Be safe. Can’t wait till you’re home and safe. Are you sure about this? 

Let me preface what I’m about to say with this. I appreciate the love and concern and I know people only say this because they care, they want the best for me, and they themselves are not interested in adventuring on their own. Since the concept of what I am doing is foreign to some of these people, it scares them. And people associate fear with negativity, even though that can sometimes be misplaced. So, people, I kindly ask those of you who are condescendingly telling me to be careful and who are questioning my actions to shut the hell up. 

It’s exhausting and a bit soul-crushing to hear it over and over and over again. Trust me, I am well aware of how to take care of myself. I’ve had a lot of anxiety my whole life about my well-being and I’m not one to let my guard down and put myself in a life-threatening situation. I think things through, I plan, and I consider all scenarios. Instead of telling me to be careful, tell me to go have the adventure of my fucking life! Lift me up and ignite my passion! Don’t remind me that you’re hesitant and scared. Don’t kill my adventurous vibes.

It’s true that women in our society have to be more scared than men. We are targeted by men who hungrily watch women, abuse them, rape them, and scare the shit out of them. I am more scared of men on the streets than I am of bears in the woods or sharks in the ocean. I, as a woman, SHOULDN’T HAVE TO BE THE ONE “BEING CAREFUL”! Instead, you should tell men and predators to not make women feel scared. Instead, you should target the actual cause of the reason you’re worried about my well-being. I am capable as hell. All women are. We are not at fault for the fear we feel when traveling alone or even walking to our car alone. So, stop telling us to be careful because that’s only treating a symptom of the real problem. Treat the real problem. Men, check yourselves and check each other.

Before entering the enchanting corridors of Yosemite, I scoped out a campsite for the night. About two and half miles down a rocky potholed road, I found three fully booked campsites. But, you know, I didn’t actually need a campsite with a fully stocked campervan and generous woods to pee in! I found a perfect pullout on the rock drive, out of view from the campsites and in view of the roaring Merced River.

Yosemite National Park was very busy. It took me thirty minutes to find a parking spot late in the afternoon, but once I did I hiked around for several miles. I hiked to lower Yosemite Falls, took in the views of many waterfalls, and explored Yosemite Village. Then, I made my way back to my camping spot near Briceburg so I could cook dinner and drink wine on the river!

The next day I hiked three miles around Mirror Lake and then drove to Glacier Point. Wow, this drive was remarkable, and the views were incredibly unique in their beauty. Yosemite National Park is one to legitimately make your jaw drop on multiple occasions. When I stood out on the edge of a rock that overlooked some of the most enchanting views I’d ever seen, I felt like I was flying.

That night was spent at the same camping spot – another night of dinner, wine, and river. I jumped from rock to rock along the river for a while and then relaxed in my van, reading a book until I fell asleep under the warm lighting of my fairy string lights.

I woke up in the middle of the night with a tiny ball of panic bubbling in my chest. I was awakened from a crazy dream about the ocean flooding into my home and drowning my friends and me! And when I woke up to the pitch black of the middle of nowhere, bears came to my mind! But the moment of panic passed as quickly as it came because when I stepped out of the van to pee, I looked up to see a myriad of bright shiny dots staring back at me. I’d never seen so many stars before! Goosebumps tickled my whole body as I stared, head thrown back at three in the morning, taking in the black ocean of starry night sky and Milky Way.

Living primitively in nature alone is one of the most wholesome and beautiful things I have ever done. I love that I had to carefully conserve water and food, so as to not leave a trace in nature. I loved that my skin was flaky and dry from being exposed to the elements for weeks. I realized that even in the silence, there was so much sound. The rushing of the river, the wind, scampering animals, fluttering insects, my heartbeat. When I was camping out there, I realized that I really could live in the trees. I could be one of those wild people who live sustainably off the grid and I would really, really love it.

My last day in Yosemite was spent mostly in Mariposa Grove, which is a sequoia grove on the south side of the park. The drive, of course, was incredibly beautiful. And the six-mile hike amidst the sequoias was magical. And what made it more magical was knowing how old some of the trees were. The oldest in Yosemite, the Grizzly Giant, is estimated to be about 3,000 years old. I actually teared up when I learned this because that tree has seen and breathed and felt so much life for so, so long. How many generations of animals have walked among this tree? How drastically has the landscape changed over those thousands of years while it remained tall, strong, and upright? For how much longer will it continue to flourish?

After crying over the sequoias, I headed up north towards Highway 120. I wanted to go to the Hetch Hatchy Reservoir, but the bumpy road I believed that led there didn’t quite take me where I thought I was going. Although I got turned around, I swear to you I was never anxious once. I have no good explanation for this, as I had no service, was alone, and hadn’t seen many cars in a while. I simply trusted myself and eventually found my way back to Highway 120.

I passed through a few tiny little towns nestled high up in and around the Stanislaus National Forest and eventually came across a very special patch of highway near a town called Priest. It was most winding road ever with shocking lush green rolling mountainous views! I had to stop on the side of the road to inhale the beauty. I found service and looked up a free campsite on this handy app called iOverlander. I found a vista point hidden off Highway 120 right next to the Moccasin Reservoir. The spot was incredible! It was a simple parking lot with no bathrooms or anything, but it overlooked the lake! I couldn’t have found a prettier free spot to cook a turkey burger, drink Chardonnay, watch the sunset, stargaze, and sleep that night.

That Tuesday morning, I woke up to a magical view! I crunched on granola while traveling along another beautiful Californian drive, this time toward San Francisco!

Mental Health Blog Disclaimer

I am not a medical professional, therapist, or mental healthcare professional. The information provided on this website is for informational purposes only, comes from my own personal experiences, and may be read, interpreted, and practiced at your own risk. Do not rely on this information as a substitute to medical advice or treatment from a healthcare professional.