A drive in California's Big Sur brings colossal beauty

Marked by precipitous cliffs and hairpin curves that leave drivers (and their passengers) white-knuckled and breathless, the rugged stretch of California's Central Coast called Big Sur has enthralled sightseers for decades with its natural beauty. Yet there comes a point on a leisurely afternoon drive on scenic Hwy. 1 when enough is enough. Could Big Sur get any more stunning?

Each turn along its 90-mile stretch of coastline seems to reveal an increasingly spectacular view of volcanic rock hugging deep-blue ocean. Less than an hour in, I'd already snapped dozens of images with my iPhone — some by leaning precariously over the hillside.

I wasn't the only wild soul. While we rarely encountered bumper-to-bumper traffic during our April visit, expect mini-traffic jams anytime the road widens enough for drivers to pull off for an impromptu photo session. It's especially crowded just north of Bixby Bridge, one of the world's tallest (260 feet) single-span concrete bridges. A stunning piece of architecture that blends seamlessly into the craggy terrain, it's one of the most photographed structures along the Pacific Coast. (Don't expect to Instagram your view in real time, because there's no cell service.)

Before the bridge's construction over a steep-sided valley in 1932, the drive from the Monterey peninsula to Big Sur Valley took three days by wagon because of a 30-mile one-lane dirt "detour" through a thick redwood forest. These days, it's an easy day trip, thanks to the 714-foot-long structure and a concrete highway that hugs the steep, chaparral-covered hillside like a wet shower curtain.

Named one of the world's most scenic drives by multiple publications, Big Sur's highway to heaven is a designated All-American Road. It also has its own postage stamp.

Even if you don't think you know Big Sur you probably do, at least a little: Its rocky coastline has been featured in numerous car commercials and movies. It's also made for some memorable pop-culture moments: It's where Don Draper found spiritual enlightenment in "Mad Men's" season finale, and last spring a vacationing Taylor Swift posted Instagrams from Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park.

In the '50s and '60s, Big Sur became famous as a haven for artists and writers such as Hunter S. Thompson, Jack Kerouac and Henry Miller, whose work and spirit is immortalized in an offbeat memorial library. New Age and bohemian types followed when the fabled spiritual retreat Esalen Institute opened in 1962 to those seeking to "push the envelopes of their own and society's existing limits."

Big Sur is a quirky place; that's part of its charm. The area's most popular beach is almost impossible to find if you don't get directions from a local. Its post office doesn't sell postcard stamps, even though the adjoining general store is full of the touristy items. At the Big Sur River Inn — where guest rooms have neither phones nor TVs — visitors sit in bent willow Adirondack chairs in the Big Sur River to listen to music. And at Esalen, the hot springs don't open to the public for bathing until 1 a.m.

We planned our trip to coincide with one of the running world's premier (and toughest) sporting events, the Big Sur International Marathon. Our leisurely drive along the coast, with a few short hikes and some sunbathing tucked in, was the perfect way to stretch my tired legs afterward.

You can't visit the coast without sticking your toes in the ocean, so Pfeiffer Beach was our first stop when we set off from our rental in Pacific Grove. It's known for its secluded, wide beach and huge rock formations that lie just offshore and we couldn't wait to run barefoot on its purple sand. Yet finding the road to the parking lot is a challenge. Only because we stopped at Big Sur Deli for directions did we know to look for unmarked Sycamore Canyon Road. A narrow dirt road winds 2 miles down a steep hill to the park entrance ($10), then it's a short hike to the beach. The water was too cold for wading, and I wasn't brave or stupid enough to try scaling its giant arch rock, although it was fun to watch others do it.

From there it was 12 miles down Hwy. 1, past Big Sur Coast Gallery (fine art, great coffee) and the famed Nepenthe restaurant (sit outside and order the Ambrosia Burger) to Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park ($10 parking, or on the highway for free). One of the draws here is a cliffside trail overlooking McWay Falls. It cascades 80 feet onto a sandy cove that's maddeningly inaccessible by foot. The half-mile wheelchair-accessible path takes you to the remains of Waterfall House, built in 1924 by Rep. Lathrop Brown of New York and his railroad heiress wife, Helen. (It was one of the first electrified dwellings in Big Sur.)

On the other side of Hwy. 1, the park stretches some 3,000 acres on land carpeted with giant oak and madrone trees, and tangled shrubs and bushes. A mecca for hikers, the park also is home to redwoods, some of which rise 300 feet into the sky and are more than 2,000 years old. Outdoor types can pitch a tent, but campsites are hike-in only and must be reserved (1-800-444-7275; $30/night).

The lighthouse at Point Sur State Historic Park was closed the day we drove by, but if you're there on a Wednesday or weekend and have the time, the three-hour guided walking tours ($12; 1-831-625-4419) are recommended; it's the only complete turn-of-the-century lighthouse open to the public in California. For night owls, there are also Moonlight Tours ($20) twice monthly.

But we still managed to work in a really great view from above at Rocky Point Restaurant, where I'd started my Big Sur adventure the day before just after dawn. As the sun disappeared into the ocean, bathing Bixby Bridge in shades of orange, we toasted our day with glasses of California sauvignon blanc. And vowed our return.