On this Sunday morning, the 22nd of June, 2015, I’m thinking about life, about that magical journey up to Big Sur, California. In 1972 I was 17. My big brother Paul took me camping. We stayed at Big Sur Campgrounds. That trip, so long ago, has inspired so many trips back. I thought I’d just put down my thoughts, a type of document, legal or illegal, on what to do with my ashes.
So let’s take a little trip: Head north of Santa Barbara on Highway 1 past Hearst Castle, another 65 miles, about 1.5 to 2 hours.
First stop, Henry Miller Library. When I was there last, it was so inspiring. I really love this area. I’ve had some great times with friends at Rivers Inn, although back in 1996 I took a road trip by myself for the weekend. Highly recommended. At the time, I was driving my 1984 Buritz Cadillac white convertible, red leather seats. I loved that car.
In the back of the Rivers Inn, sitting in a chair on the grass made of tree branches, I finished reading a book Tropic of Cancer, by Henry Miller. As I read the final notes about the book, it said Henry finished the re-write of Tropic of Cancer in Big Sur in 1957. That gave me a sense of a warm connection. Maybe a reason for the whole trip! Beautiful and lonely in a poetic way, it was a breakthrough road trip. Maybe that’s the magic of Big Sur. You can go up with scattered questions and come back with an answer.
If I were to choose a location for my ashes, “Scatter What’s Left of Me In Big Sur California!” Hey! Sounds like a country song.
