Changes on the San Luis Obispo Coast

M. L. Fischer

Published in New Times of S.L. Obispo County

Changes on San Luis Obispo's north coast are slow and subtle, so many residents may not notice. As a regular, but infrequent, visitor, I'm aware of the little changes.

By any standard, the Hearst Ranch coastal area is still painfully beautiful. Each time I drive from San Carpoforo to San Simeon I'm nearly brought to tears. On my recent visit the high fog hung in the distant hills like strands of gray taffy. The ocean was dull metallic and as still as glass, the soft crash of tiny waves the only sound. Wide open and serene, this golden land takes me back to the days when Father Serra first walked the coastal hills.

That a deal is in the works that will protect this priceless resource from the cookie cutter developments that have diminished much of our coast is promising. At the cost of allowing a few houses, future generations will be able to experience some of the emotions I've recently enjoyed.

However, like everywhere else, the march of progress has chipped away at paradise. A decade ago I could pull off at any wide patch of dirt along the highway. In those days, campers and vans were common on almost any summer evening, and some people would hop the fence to pitch a tent on the beach. Most of us would just stop for a night, enjoy the solitude, watch the sunset and sleep. Perhaps it was the few who thought they could set up permanent vehicle housekeeping who have ruined it for the rest of us.

The signs appeared here and there at first, and now I find they are almost everywhere. I spent the night at my favorite pull out, the only one left without a prohibitive sign. It appears that I was the only one for miles. It was the most peaceful night's sleep I've had in years.

While I'm happy to see the elephant seals making their home on the beach, I miss the days when there was just a pull out there, and nothing on the beach but a few gulls. I'd stretch out in the back of my van and watch the Piedras Blancas light flash through the evening fog.

The road's been improved, and it's enough. I hope I don't see the day when it's a four lane causeway with stop lights, official state parking areas, kiosks, and snack bars. The openness is an integral part of the area's charm.

That 18 miles of beaches are now really open to the public is a big plus. There are few places on the west coast with beaches anywhere near as lovely. One of the most unforgettable of these is at San Carpoforo creek. Now that it's in the hands of the Forest Service, there is official public access. Hopefully that will not be rescinded.

It seems that the unrepentant swine among us have failed to pack out their trash, and the Forest Service, rather than see the beach destroyed, might opt to close it. To help prevent this loss to the public, I'm working with the Ventana Wilderness Alliance to place a trash container at the entrance. Nathan at the Farran Gallery across the road from the beach has volunteered to empty the trash once a container is in place.

Hopefully all of us who love this unspoiled piece of coast will do our part to care and advocate for it and to educate others about its fragile beauty. If so, our great grandchildren will be left awestruck as they explore this land.