If it took a 1,400 mile trip down the West Coast to get some alone time with my husband, Ian, I was willing to drive the entire time.
Happily, Ian was willing to share the wheel during our first big solo trip after getting married and having our first kid. Neither of us had taken the quintessential road trip down California 1 and U.S. 101, which just happened to connect people we hadn't seen in a while.
 ADDIE BROYLES/Cox Newspapers The redwood trees in Northern California are even bigger than you imagine them to be.
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In fact, most people make travel plans around family and friends they want to visit. We stayed with both on this trip, starting with friends in Portland, then dropping in on friends' parents just outside Bandon, a small coastal town in Southern Oregon, and then with relatives in Southern California.
It's dangerous for Texans to go to Portland in July, where the summers aren't blistering hot. We slept with the windows open and marveled at the lush gardens in a city that we could easily call home, especially because we could pedal to the nearest pub.
Innovative bites at Saraveza included pickled cherries and pasties, or meat pies, and funky beers from all over this microbrewing-obsessed region. Oregon wines are getting a lot of attention these days, but it's hard to pass up a good Portland beer on tap.
Staying with friends meant that we didn't have to pay for a hotel room, and we got to see their side of the City of Roses — where it seemed like there were more bicycles than residents. Running errands with our hosts (on bicycles of course), like picking up a basket of vegetables from community-supported agriculture program, we got a glimpse of the city as locals instead of tourists.
We had errands of our own. My husband, who is a musician, wanted to buy a cheap guitar at a pawn shop. We made the decision not to camp on this trip because we were staying with a handful of people we knew, but if we had planned to camp, we would have shopped for inexpensive supplies at Army surplus or pawn shops.
After getting around on our hosts' bikes the first day, we picked up our rental car and got on the road. One-way rentals can be expensive, but Hertz had the best fare — without hitting up for a drop fee — on Expedia for a compact car that we'd return in San Diego.
With the keys to our silver Chevrolet Cobalt, we headed south, the road ahead and the beach on our right, as it would be for the next nine days.
When staying with my friends' parents outside Bandon, we got to see what life would be like if we lived in a house on top of a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Inside their custom-built home, shielded from the constant, blustery wind, we spied through a telescope to find seals on the rocks below and golfers on the Bandon Dunes Golf Resort next door.
Our hosts' hospitality was wonderful, but for many travelers, including us, time away from the familiar is what we were ultimately seeking. We found that as soon as we crossed into Northern California, where the trees got taller by the mile as we headed south along U.S. 101.
The Redwood National Park is free, but the Redwood state parks and beaches and their wind-wiped dunes usually require day use and camping fees. A hike along trails in the national park was a good place to stretch our legs and look up at the trees so long that our necks hurt.
Without stopping, Portland to San Diego is a 30-hour journey, so, like most serious road trips, it requires a few long days in the car, as our jaunt from Bandon to Fort Bragg was. But as it is all along the coast, we broke it up by pulling over and soaking up the view at the many turnouts along the highway.
The famed California 1 forks off U.S. 101 in Leggett, a few hours south of Eureka. We shouldn't have believed the Google map that told us it will take 31 minutes to go the 21 miles to Hardy. The introduction to one of the most scenic roads in America isn't for those with weak stomachs, not because of the cliffside curves (those were a few more miles down the road) but because of the windy road that carves a narrow path through a thick foggy forest.
Fort Bragg, the home of North Coast Brewing Co., greeted us when we got back to the beach. Birthplace of the Old Rasputin Imperial Stout, the brewpub made the city a cozy spot in an otherwise windy and chilly section of the state for us to stop for the night.
Even in July, temperatures were barely in the 60s most of the time, and our next stop, Berkeley, wasn't much different. Lunch at Chez Panisse was the only thing that drew us off the freeway in the Bay Area. (We skipped San Francisco mainly because we didn't have a friend to stay with and we didn't want to blow our budget on a city we'd both visited before.)
Credit the recession, but we didn't have any problem finding affordable hotels along the middle coast, even on the weekend. The impersonal accommodations were counterbalanced by what felt like personal interaction with sea creatures at the Monterey Bay Aquarium. The up-close views of neon-colored jellyfish and delicate coral were worth the $29.95 ticket. (We should have known to avoid going on a weekend day, when we got up-close and personal with more than sea animals.)
Past Big Sur, in the little town of Cambria we found our next destination: Bridge Street Inn, a quaint family-friendly hostel tucked away from the beach and nested near Main Street. At $78 a night, it was the least expensive and most enjoyable accommodation we paid for on the trip, and it came with tea to sip with the new friends we made in the common room. A light breakfast also was included.
The hostel is within walking distance of several fine restaurants, including Linn's and The Sow's Ear, but I wished we would have taken advantage of the beautiful little kitchen in the hostel. After a week on the road, we were itching for comfort food only we can make.
Cambria is a nice jumping-off point for both the Hearst Castle — which we didn't have time to visit — and the Paso Robles wine region. We skipped the well-established (and higher end) wineries in the Sonoma, Mendocino and Napa regions and waited to sip until we got to this arid and relatively young and up-and-coming winemaking region.
Paso Robles is like the Austin of the California winemakers. Rebellious vintners have a reputation for marching to the beat of their own wine barrels, and they have to come up with interesting ways to deal with the dry heat that their better-known northern neighbors don't have to contend with.
We tasted some classically complex California cabernets at a winery called Pomar Junction just east of the city of Paso Robles, but most of the wineries are west of U.S. 101, which is just 30 or so miles inland from Cambria.
Santa Barbara, another wine-soaked area of the state, is just a few hours south of Paso Robles. We stayed at a cabin in the mountains where my cousin lives, but he was out of the country, so we had the place to ourselves. Our budget restricted us from spending too much time on the glittery State Street, which is lined with high-end boutiques, but with the weather finally warm enough to don a swimsuit, it was time to hit the beach with the pawn shop guitar and a good book.
Our 10-day adventure was quickly coming to an end, so we only had an afternoon to spend in Los Angeles, which was more than enough time to get a feel for the city and get back on the road.
We timed our brief stop in L.A. so we could attend a donation-only Wednesday night meditation with "Dharma Punx" author and Buddhist teacher Noah Levine at his community space on Melrose Avenue. Just a few miles from Hollywood Boulevard, with its gawking tourists and buzzing paparazzi, we rediscovered the peaceful solace of the redwood forests in the congested and sprawling City of Angels.
As soon as the meditation was through, we hit the road for our last leg of the trip to San Diego, but not before a late-night stop at In-N-Out Burger.
The last 36 hours in San Diego were like a trip home for me. I lived with my aunt and uncle there when I was in college, but it had been five years since my last visit. It was fun to drive around to all my old stomping grounds, the zoo, Ocean Beach, the seal-covered children's beach in La Jolla and wine bars in Hillcrest, but long mornings over coffee and the newspaper and longer evenings over dinner with family were what we were after.
So many hours in the car, so many miles of sweeping coastal views. Ian and I needed this second honeymoon to spend uninterrupted time together. But the breathtaking scenery didn't hurt.
Addie Broyles writes for the Austin American-Statesman. E-mail: abroyles(at)statesman.com.
