Out in California Part VIII

We spent three nights camping along the Pacific Coast Highway before arriving in San Francisco. Each night out there exposed us to new people and new environs and left us inspired to share them with you. Sometimes the tales have to do with food, sometimes they don't. Either way, expect one every Tuesday until we get to San Francisco. Read Parts I through VII over here.

There was a No Trespassing sign too. That and the barking dog are what made me put the car in park. With the dog on the other side of the ravine, and its owner now sidled up next to it, I called out to man and beast, "Hello."

The dog stopped barking and my call hung ignored over the ravine.

"I was told there are campgrounds nearby."

"Campgrounds? No campgrounds up here. You can't go up there"

I had just over an hour before the sun would go and leave night behind. The drive up to the No Trespassing sign took forty minutes, so I'd have about thirty to find a place to camp once I made it back down to the PCH.

I passed three cars on my decent. They were all trucks and their drivers met my eyes with strange looks when they saw a Mazda battling the unpaved, cliffside road. I brought the car to a stop as one of the trucks passed. The driver had his window open.

"How you doin buddy?" He wasn't wearing a shirt and his skin had leathered from a lifetime in the sun.

"Good," I told him, not sure yet if that was the case or not. "Guy back in town told me there were campgrounds somewhere up here. All I found was a No Trespassing sign and a barking dog about a mile back. The dog's owner came out and told me there was nothing up that way."

"Oh, him. I know that guy. Come on, he can't tell ya that. I'm headin up there now. The road opens up to a clearing. I'm campin up there tonight, gonna be a full moon, bright as day. Just the sky man. You wanna follow me up?"

Plan B: Plaskett Creek.

"No, I don't think so. Heard about another campsite up the road a ways. Thanks though."

I missed it on the drive up. There's a post just off the road two or three hundred yards in. It's four feet tall and there's a yellow sign with a diagonal red line cutting through red flames painted at the center. Underneath: "No Campfires." There's a path that invites any and all deep into the woods to camp at their own risk. I was intrigued, but wanted a sure thing and the option of fire.

I pulled into Plaskett Creek at the tail end of dusk.