Or, a weekend adventure in Central Coast California.
(Warning: This is a long travelblogue post)
We left the Bay Area sometime shortly after midnight Thursday (technically Friday, but I’ve never been one to relent to the nextdayness of post-midnight hours). We drove straight through down U.S. Highway 101 from San Francisco to Paso Robles, a distance of 204 miles. We took the first exit in PR and meandered some back roads, eventually heading back toward 101 to a motel parking lot, where we parked and did our best to sleep.
Next morning (now, admittedly, Friday) we had breakfast at Denny’s. We got mistaken there for a couple who had come to the “restaurant” months ago and left upon feeling altogether ignored by the Denny’s staff. Nope, not us.
After our “meal” (read: pancakes with piles of “strawberry” goo), we headed down state Highway 46 eastdound to Firestone winery, a modernish estate with few visitors at 10:30 a.m.
A very friendly worker treated us (and they allowed Gida to come inside) to a nice, $5 tasting of five-plus wines. We left with a bottle of Cabernet Franc Rosé and Riesling.
After a short pause to sober up completely, it was time to head west on 46 to Eagle Castle.
The woman pouring our wine here was less than enthusiastic, yawning and just barely looking us in the eye. Maybe it had something to do with her glittery “Wine Princess” shirt. The wines were mediocre, but they did offer a nice late harvest Viognier that we picked up. And, I mean, it’s a castle. WIth a moat.
Hunt Cellars was our anamoly winery. The only reason we stopped off here was the namesake factor. Unlike most other area wineries, Hunt had shade trees, and it was hot, so we cooled off a bit before tasting.
Oddly, the tasting room’s decor smacked of my parents’ house in Texas:
More mediocre wines, but I felt compelled to buy some member of my family a bottle, so I left with their “Moonlight Sonata” Chardonnay. Interestingly, Hunt’s winemaker, David Hunt, is blind. That doesn’t stop him from being photographed for multiple chamber of commerce-type photos, sans protective shades.
It was here that the first celebrity mistaken-identity incident took place. “You look like, ah god, who is it?” “Andy Dick,” I replied, without hesitation. “That’s it!” he said. “And she looks like someone, too.” “Angelina?” “Yes!!! What’s up, Brad?”
From Hunt Cellars, we drove farther west on 46 to what was billed as “punk rock wine,” Four Vines. I wasn’t disappointed. First of all, they let Gida in and gave her treats. Nice. Secondly, upon entering the tiny tasting room, a very loud winery worker launched into how much I looked like Andy Dick. Wow, I thought, is my hair that curly today? “I hope I’m just not half as annoying as that guy,” I said, spending my stock response all at once.
Four Vines was great. Very down-to-earth, both in wine and people. We ended up buying a bottle of their “Loco” Tempranillo blend, but tasting “Naked” chardonnay, “Maverick” zinfindel, and, honestly, I forget what else. And we were graced with Four Vines tattoos.
Then we continued down a beautiful stretch of road to Cayucos, a non-sleepy coastal town. To change into beach clothes, we stopped into the Cayucos Saloon, whose motto is “Liquor in the front, poker in the rear.” I know, original, eh? I’m bummed I forgot to get a T-shirt or hoodie from that place.
Wine tasting finished for the day, we plopped over to the beach and did a little relaxing and a little wading. Well, not wading exactly. The water was still so cold, I only allowed my ankles such a privilege.
We finished the trek to San Luis Obispo, driving past Morro Rock, which had just begun to be enveloped in fog, and some lovely smoke stacks.
Down the road from our motel was the famous Madonna Inn. I’ll let photo tell the story.
We ended up having decent-enough Mexican food at Vallarta in SLO.
Next morning, we presciently choose IHOP over Applebee’s for breakfast, then made our way to Tolosa winery. Tolosa had great wines and a very modern design. Here, we did a spot of vineyard frolicking, then took off with our Chardonnays and bottles of Pinot Gris in tow.
On to Edna Valley vineyard, with its crowds and excellent views.
In the parking lot at Edna Valley, we saw a stretch-limo version of the ZZ Top car.
It was basically a newly made, old-timey car, and tiny as hell inside. But what eye candy.
Our last winery, Talley, was the best. It came recommended by a friend, and though the tasting room itself was nothing to write home about, the wines were superb. We left with a 2005 Riesling and a 2005 late harvest Riesling. From the Bishop’s Peak Vineyard, with whom Talley partners, we got a Paso Robles rosé, a 2004 petite sirah [sic], and 2005 “Stone Cold” Chardonnay, easily the best late harvest Chardonnay I’ve ever had.
After a quick stop for lunch in Arroyo Grande, which ended up being a failed attempt to find paninis, we ended the trip with a stop at Avila Beach. Avila had been billed as having the warmest waters in the region, and what sage advice that was. It was a nice, long beach, and surprisingly, the hundreds of people out enjoying the warm weather didn’t bother me. What did was the fact that Avila doesn’t allow dogs on its beach before 5 p.m. What???
The water is warm there because its mostly protected from the current by a jut of land out into the ocean. Nice work, earth. We got in up to our waists, a rarity in the Pacific.
On the three-hour trip back home, we decided all the warm weather and beach dwelling inspired a seafood dinner, and so we went to PJ’s Oyster Bed in San Francisco.
All in all, it was a highly recommended easy weekend getaway from San Francisco or Los Angeles. And, as with every trip I’ve taken since I moved to SF seven years ago, I was happy to be home, even if it was cold and foggy.
