One of the few issues on which my wife and I disagree, travel-wise, is returning to familiar places we love versus visiting someplace entirely new. I like returning to the comfort of the known and the opportunity to visit old friends, while she has a very long list of places we must see and soon! A brilliant solution is to combine the two into one trip. Such an opportunity presented itself such a month or so ago. 

I love going to California. I don’t think I could live there, but there is much to love as a visitor. I am a rare Easterner who loves LA. Yes, it is the epitome of urban sprawl with often horrific traffic congestion and poor air quality, though it seems much less polluted than when I first started visiting there decades ago. I find it electric with possibilities. Creativity pervades the atmosphere. Art is everywhere. This is the place where popular culture trends are born. And Southern California is as beautiful as its amazing weather: mountains and the sea, palm trees standing in military formations, and dazzling flowering plants year-round. 

A few weeks ago, I got an email from my wife Allie (who was working two floors below me!). She had attached a magazine article about one of the few remaining remnants of the era when train travel was an elegant option in the US: the Coast Starlight train that operates daily between LA and Seattle, passing through some of the West’s most beautiful scenery. Her entire commentary: “Let’s do this!”

That was all I needed. Within a few days I had planned a two-week trip that fit into both our crowded calendars. Our opening act was a non-stop flight to LA where we would be able to visit several friends. Two of those friends live in a spectacular home high in the hills of BelAir. No hotel could match the pleasure or comfort of staying there with people we love, but see so infrequently. Their son and his wife, whom we have also known for years, had recently relocated from the East coast. Seeing them was an unexpected bonus. 

Our friends are foodies, too, and we tried out two spots in LA that were new to us. Tessa is a recent addition to the Sunset Boulevard scene in Hollywood. It was packed and loud, but the food was very good and the service amiable. Upper West is a West LA staple located in a non-glamorous block of Pico just off the Santa Monica Freeway. It, too, was busy, but with a relaxed vibe and truly excellent food.

Our lunches in La La Land were exceptional as well. Mozza, baker extraordinaire Nancy Silverton’s reliable standby, lived up to its just-deserved reputation. We opted for the simplicity of the pizzeria that adjoins the main restaurant and were not disappointed. A rendezvous with another old friend in Santa Monica took place at R&D Kitchen on Montana. Again, excellent food in a relaxed atmosphere. Their Ding’s crispy chicken sandwich claims to be famous, and with apparent justification.

All the over-eating—and did I mention drinks?—called for some serious calorie-burning. Our first morning on the left coast was sunny and warm. Off we went to Griffin Park: home to the iconic Hollywood sign, a network of hiking trails, and the Observatory that has starred in many movies. We ascended to Glendale Peak for a panoramic view of the sprawl that is Los Angeles, from Century City to the west—we were not high enough to see Santa Monica—across to Downtown and around toward the valley. No wonder it takes an hour to drive anywhere here.

Our next destination was Santa Barbara. We dropped down to Sunset and took it to its western end at the PCH. We fought the heavy beach traffic through Malibu and made our way to Ventura and on to Montecito. Dear friends from home had recently purchased a property in Toro Canyon above the charming beach town of Summerland. The gardens and grounds had been extensively damaged by the mudslides that followed the devastating wildfires earlier this year. Our friends showed us their progress on a massive project to restore and expand these gardens and renovate the main house to fit their expanding family.

Our quarters were in the Aloha Cottage. The furniture, artwork and the kitchen wares and accessories were faithful to an authentically Hawaiian theme. Our bed, canopied by surfboards resting in the rafters, was true to the cottage's cozy and welcoming island-chic theme.

We were not familiar with the Santa Barbara area, but fell love with it immediately. It was obvious what had attracted our friends to this spot. They love surfing and the year-round outdoor life-style the climate here encourages. My wife is a beach-nut (is that a thing?). Back at home, she often drives three hours in the early morning to spend the day on the sand of her beloved Sullivan’s Island, then makes the return trip home as the sun is setting. She loved the wide and expansive beach at Summerland just a few minutes from our friends’ home.

We all stopped for lunch in the small village center of Montecito on our way back from touring the town of Santa Barbara itself. The place was called the Honor Bar, and we claimed a prime outdoor table. As soon as I opened the menu I saw it: Ding’s crispy chicken sandwich! Unbeknownst to any of us, we had stumbled upon the sister restaurant to the one in Santa Monica. Not to worry. The menu offered plenty of variety and once more, everything was exceptionally good.

This week, the city of Santa Barbara was holding its annual celebration of its Spanish heritage. The morning we had to depart was a highlight of the week’s events: the country’s largest equestrian parade. With more than 600 horses, it provided quite a send-off from the train station that sits directly on the State Street parade route.  

Our next leg was a novelty for us: the overnight Coast Starlight train that my wife had suggested in her email. The experience was a mixed bag. Our sleeper berth compartment was roomy and comfortable during the day, but a bit claustrophobic when converted to a twin-bedded room. Allie volunteered to take the top bunk and likened it to a prison experience.

The dining car’s food offerings and experience was not unlike dining on a long oversees flight. The Amtrak staff seemed proud of their service and many other passengers appeared to be enjoying it. I’ll keep my review positive by admitting that the quantities were more than sufficient, and no one went hungry.

The best part of our train trip was the views from our wide windows. Just as promised in the article that had attracted my wife’s attention, the scenery was beautiful. During the first portion of the journey, the tracks clung - sometime literally - to the dramatic coastline. North of San Luis Obispo, we turned inland. For hours we rolled through the enormous agricultural treasure that is California’s Central Valley. If the wheat and cornfields of the Midwest make up America’s bread basket, then this must be our vegetable and fruit bin. It is awesome. I pray we never run out of the water necessary to sustain this modern miracle or the workers - mostly immigrants - required to plant, nourish and harvest this abundance.

Night fell as we arrived in the Bay Area, and the sun rose, as we did, in Southern Oregon. We enjoyed our final Amtrak meal and disembarked in Klamath Falls. With the smell of smoke and an orange haze in the air (reminders that a massive wildfire was burning miles south of us), we piled our bags into a rental car and headed off to Crater Lake National Park. The ranger who greeted us told us that this was the first clear day they had experienced in over two weeks, due to all the wildfires in the area. 

Taking quick advantage of our good luck, we completed the rim drive around the incredible lake just as smoke drifted in to spoil those marvelous views.  We stopped to take several short hikes to the dramatic views of the phenomenon that is Crater Lake. There cannot be bluer water anywhere. This is the cleanest and clearest lake in the world, as well as the deepest in North America. Our National Parks are such treasures!

We had previously visited Portland and the Willamette Valley, so our goal on this trip was to visit southern Oregon, and specifically its rugged coast. We took note of the excellent condition of the roads in Oregon and how pleasant it was to drive along highways largely free of the billboards and tacky development we have grown accustomed to back in the Carolinas.

We reached the sea at Bandon, a spot on the Oregon map now more known as a world-class golf destination than the beach town it has been for a century. The small historic town was quaint and yielded a pleasant dinner at the Alloro Wine Bar that was featuring Chilean wines that week. The 2013 Max cab from Errazuriz, a distinguished producer in the Aconcagua Valley, was an excellent reward for the many train and auto hours it had taken us to reach this spot where we would begin our southward exploration of the Pacific coast.

Another thing Bandon is known for is cranberries! Who knew? We even passed an Ocean Spray processing facility. In fact, the presence of berries of all kinds was unavoidable. Allie snacked on blackberries—still ripening in August—along many of the trails we walked. I love raspberries, but found new contender: olallieberries, a locally-developed hybrid of Loganberry, a variety of blackberry, and youngberry, itself a hybrid of various varieties of raspberries.

The southern Oregon coast was gorgeous. As we drove 170 miles along the Oregon Coast Highway (US101), there were many overlooks, beach access points and state parks. The stretch to Shell Island at Simpson Reef in the Cape Arago State Park was specked with lighthouses and seals. Our favorite stop was at Cape Blanco. There we experienced our first sighting of whales from land. Four humpbacks spouted and breached around a large kelp field, close enough to shore that they could be seen without binoculars.  Certainly a trip highlight!

Besides whales, there were more things we never see back home. There are cannabis shops everywhere. The only thing more numerous were drive-through coffee shops. Imagine my shock when I stopped to re-fuel our rental car only to have a uniformed young man run toward screaming to at me to stop just as I had inserted the nozzle into my tank. It seems that pumping one’s own gas in Oregon is against the law. Back east, gas station attendants are almost as rare as cannabis shops!

We watched a beautiful sunset as we said goodbye to Oregon and crossed into California. Before resuming our southward tour of the coast the following day, we spent the night in Crescent City. My late mother taught me that if I had nothing good to say about a person, or in this case: a place, I should simply say nothing.

The northern California coast was a continuation of what of we had seen in Oregon, though we found it more difficult to view and access.  Our first major stop was actually a bit inland from the sea, in the Redwoods National and State Park. We walked the Lady Bird Johnson Grove in the morning cool. These trees are centuries old, some as much as two millennia. Majestic and peaceful, inspiring and intimidating.  We learned that only 2% of these old growth redwood forests remain from what dominated this part of the west when the European settlers first arrived. Sad, but these preserved park lands provide hope for the long-term.

We had read about the large herds of Roosevelt Elk that roam in this part of California and that the best place to see them is around the small town of Orick. We slowly drove the roads that were recommended and spent an hour walking around the optimistically-named Elk Meadows area. The closest we got to any elk was some still-fresh scat. Several hours later and many miles further south, Allie pointed out a small group of elk munching away the afternoon in a field just a few yards away from the coastal highway! Serendipity trumps planning!

Mendocino was our next overnight destination. We stayed there three days, and both agreed it was our favorite coastal town. It is a laidback, welcoming and walkable village situated on dramatic headlands with constantly changing views as the marine fogs come and go.  Our B&B was adorable, and we enjoyed the food and beverage options. We agreed this is a place well deserving of a return visit (once Allie’s travel bucket list is completed!)

Leaving Mendocino on the final day of our journey we looked forward to returning to more familiar territory: Marin County and San Francisco.  The driving was demanding in this stretch--more steep mountains, more switchbacks and more traffic. Also more construction; it seemed as if California’s coastal roads are in need of lots of TLC.

We made a brief stop in Bodega Bay to pick up some of what our friends proclaim the best New England Clam Chowder in the west, at Spud Point Crab. No argument from us on that claim! During a later stop in Point Reyes, we watched the aerial bombardment of a wildfire that had just broken out on the hills above the town. Our experiences on this trip showed us just how omnipresent the threat of wildfires is in the west every summer.

With nothing more than a long flight home left of this quickly conceived trip, as we approached the majestic Golden Gate we decided to treat ourselves to an early dinner in San Francisco. We dropped in to one of the city’s many wonderful restaurants, Spruce, in Presidio Heights, a Michelin star spot that welcomed us on short notice. Given the hour, we took seats in the bar area with no intention of testing the limits of chef Mark Sullivan’s inventive California cooking. Don’t judge us, we shared a hamburger and a salad. But what a salad and what a burger! Besides being perhaps the most expensive burger we’ve ever ordered ($27?) it was near or at the top of the tastiest. Three of the four couples seated with us ordered the same shared burger.

We headed to SFO with our appetites sated, another slice of our country conquered, and a few dear friends visited. A great success for a trip thrown together in just a few days! What’s next?