Spring Surf Trip: San Luis Obispo to Santa Barbara
Commissioned by AAA to document a surf trip between San Luis Obispo and Santa Barbara. Article + Imagery
Before I moved to the city, I lived in SLO. It’s been a while since my last visit, and with spring in full chorus, I jumped at the chance to kick-off the warm season with a three-day surf trip from SLO to Santa Barbara. With a film camera, short board, and tent in tow, I headed south to the central coast.
The central coast of California is special — it’s more remote than you’d think, and for the first leg of my drive, my windshield was a carousel of rolling green landscapes, sea cliffs, and wild flowers. I like to let the scene go by, but when I can’t stand it any longer I pull over and put my Olympus point-and-shoot to work.
Morro Bay
I started at 'The Rock,' a natural landmark 20 minutes west of SLO. Its sharp and varied face, home to gulls and Peregrine falcons, cuts into Morro Bay from the beach. “Lisamu” is the local Chumash name for the Rock. Climbing is prohibited because it is sacred.
My search for waves began from a popular lot that sits at the base of the Rock. Through the morning fog, I spotted waist-high waves already carrying college kids and the seasoned community-types down their breaks. Time was of the essence, so I suited up and headed out. At high tide, the waves were gentle and glassy. I love surfing on a Sunday — especially that Sunday — when the water was warm, the line-up was sparse, and there were rights and lefts breaking everywhere.
Two hours later, I backtracked and headed north on Highway 1 to Morro Strand State Campground. Eager to move south, I knew the 6-mile beach north of the Rock claimed a stretch of lesser-known surf, so I wanted to camp close by to suss out the breaks in the morning.
Arriving in SLO
Each visit feels like a homecoming. A Cal Poly mustang myself, I miss the outdoor breweries and coffee shops that always seem busy, and I envy the locals who busy them.
I came to town to visit one of my old haunts: High Street Deli. I dream of this sandwich shop. On a quiet block, not far from the beach, the deli is a hole-in-the wall cult-favorite. I ordered the Italian and ate it on the patio in the sun.
Heading South
Refueled and eager to find more surf, I left SLO for Pismo Beach. Perhaps more famed for tourist shops, the waves adjacent to the pier are always worth a look. This time, conditions didn’t merit donning my still-damp wetsuit, so I walked along the pier with my camera to capture the more eager surfers below.
Satisfied, I started south again toward Santa Barbara. Along the way, I photographed the oak trees, back roads, and farm stands where I bought berries which I ate as I turned off the 101 for Los Olivos.
Los Olivos is one of those time-stuck small towns that make up most of the central coast. With poppy-lined streets and wine tasters chatting in lawn chairs, these are the Californian scenes that are unknown to most visitors. Much of California is this quiet, rural, East of Eden type of slow, green friendliness. I live in San Francisco now, and sometimes I forget. I walked around the main street to stretch my legs and spent time chatting with two store owners about their grape-growing businesses.
Jalama
My dad is a native too. He knows the central coast well and told me that Jalama Beach is good for surf, and it’d be a mistake to miss it. He is one of those seasoned, community-types who has the kind of lifestyle that lets him surf empty breaks on a Tuesday. He surfs and lives up north now, but Jalama was one of his favorites.
Jalama’s allure goes beyond its beaches. Surrounded by live oaks and wild mustard, Jalama Road is a Californian backcountry display. I forgot I was there to discover surf, not just sight-see.
At the road’s end, I drove along the coast toward what looked like a makeshift town. The entrance sign read “Jalama Beach County Park,” indicating I reached my destination. I parked and wandered the campground to find out why it was so popular despite its remoteness. I found my answers in the form of a homey diner, warm showers, and an expansive beach.
The surf beckoned with a sparse lineup, likely due to wind, but I got the feeling that even on the best day there would be plenty of peaks to go around. I made a mental note to book a week-long campsite there for next time.
End of the Road
The final leg of my trip to Santa Barbara was easy. I cruised down Highway 1, sticking to the right lane to hug the coast as closely as possible. The stretch between Jalama and Santa Barbara usually pumps smaller breaks so I wanted to keep my eyes peeled for anything surfable.
I had my last surf at a small pullout somewhere near Refugio Beach. I didn’t know the name of the wave, but I added a map pin to my swath of growing breaks.
I drove into Santa Barbara tired and content. My mind flipped through the last few days as I walked around town looking for dinner. I settled on a taco shop and took my goods to the beach for one final sunset bite before I headed north, and back to the city.
