Big Sur... is not for surfing.
Can you surf there? Sure. Will you score? Probably not. Chances are, you'll drive around for hours, and see a lot of good waves between Cambria and Carmel, but you won't get any of them. "Keep Out" seems to be the locals' motto, and is posted on a locked gate at the entrance of just about every road with access to the coast. Sheer cliffs inhibit coastal access and wave quality alike along most of highway 1 once you get a little north of San Simeon.
Be prepared to get skunked surfing and get your mind blown by scenery in return. It's a fair trade off if you can get in the right mood for big trees and an unusual costal scene. I'm sure the cliffs along the highway are more stunning than I personally interpreted them to be, most likely because they reminded me of large scale versions of the road I drive to work in the summer (PCH between Zuma Beach and Pt. Mugu), which jaded my perception of their grandeur, and because I was upset at them for not being conducive to production of quality surf-friendly bathymetry.
After checking the Big Sur Rivermouth two days in a row and not finding any surf either day, I was over the mile-long, poison-ivy lined journey it takes just to check it. I did, however, catch two waves in Big Sur, at Pfeiffer Beach. Pfeiffer Beach is run by the forestry service, but your NFS Adventure Pass won't work here. Most parts of the Los Padres NF here are privately managed, so you have to pay an extra fee: kinda lame. Anyways, Pfeiffer Beach is well known for purple sand and rock arches, as well as being a dog friendly beach. I enjoyed strolling along the sand as the dog brad ran free. I gawked at the forces of nature that produced the rock arches just offshore and racked my brain as to what possible elemental-composition and geomorphic-time-proceses came to produce purple sand. It was during this time that I saw a surfable wave sweeping across part of the beach, in between two groups of rocks. I hadn't surfed in two days, and, frustrated and desperate, I locked up the dog and threw on my 5/4. I paddled out and looked over the edge on a few waves, trying to identify any submerged rocks and other dangers lurking below before I committed to going on the first wave. When I did, it was a short ride, just a bottom turn and a short burst down the line before pulling out. The second wave I had was great. A speedy, overhead wall. I held a late bottom turn, went high, got speed, and rushed down the line, past two sections, before pulling out. I was stoked and ready for a good surf.
After that second wave, about halfway through the paddle back out, I saw what I'd say was about a 5 inch fin coming towards me in a back and forth motion. With seven years of ocean lifeguarding under my belt as of now, I've spent literally hundreds of 8 hour days starring out to sea. I've seen enough dolphins to know what "not a dolphin" looks like. So I turned and scratched into the first whitewater mush I could catch and rode it all the way to the beach. I was on the beach starring back out at the water, wondering if it could have really been, you know - a shark, when two people came up to me and asked me "did you get out because of that shark?" I said yes, and went back to my car. Call me whatever you want, I still have two arms and two legs.
Most of my free time after that was spent hiking along the select dog friendly forest service trails, trying to avoid poison ivy and failing to keep my dog out of it. It was great though, once I gave up worrying about it, to stare upward in amazement at the gigantic living creatures that surrounded me for as far as I could see.
I managed to time my trip perfectly: in the middle of a 3 day rain storm. Every afternoon I entered my tent before 4 o'clock, with a book, and enough food, tea, and coffee to last me until the next morning. I would read for hours as the dog slept endlessly. Around 8am the next day, we would emerge, and drive somewhere new, searching for some adventure - anything new. On the very last day, the sun emerged, and I was happy to gaze upon a bright blue sky as I headed back down the coast.
One cool thing though was that I got to tick the "McWay Falls" box on my bucket list. I've seen pictures of the waterfall that flows out right onto the sand and is met by the undulating sea for so long, that when I finally saw it in real life, I stood there for 10 minutes in the rain and just watched it flow. I was smiling ear to ear the whole time as people scurried out for a photo and scurried back to their dry cars.
All in all, I have no burning desire to return to Big Sur. It's a pain to get to. The surf ain't fantastic; there are crazy waves, for sure, don't get it twisted. Surfing them is another story though. The trees are amazing, but there are much more accessible redwood forests in CA. It's an adventure though, that's for sure.
Can you surf there? Sure. Will you score? Probably not. Chances are, you'll drive around for hours, and see a lot of good waves between Cambria and Carmel, but you won't get any of them. "Keep Out" seems to be the locals' motto, and is posted on a locked gate at the entrance of just about every road with access to the coast. Sheer cliffs inhibit coastal access and wave quality alike along most of highway 1 once you get a little north of San Simeon.
Be prepared to get skunked surfing and get your mind blown by scenery in return. It's a fair trade off if you can get in the right mood for big trees and an unusual costal scene. I'm sure the cliffs along the highway are more stunning than I personally interpreted them to be, most likely because they reminded me of large scale versions of the road I drive to work in the summer (PCH between Zuma Beach and Pt. Mugu), which jaded my perception of their grandeur, and because I was upset at them for not being conducive to production of quality surf-friendly bathymetry.
After checking the Big Sur Rivermouth two days in a row and not finding any surf either day, I was over the mile-long, poison-ivy lined journey it takes just to check it. I did, however, catch two waves in Big Sur, at Pfeiffer Beach. Pfeiffer Beach is run by the forestry service, but your NFS Adventure Pass won't work here. Most parts of the Los Padres NF here are privately managed, so you have to pay an extra fee: kinda lame. Anyways, Pfeiffer Beach is well known for purple sand and rock arches, as well as being a dog friendly beach. I enjoyed strolling along the sand as the dog brad ran free. I gawked at the forces of nature that produced the rock arches just offshore and racked my brain as to what possible elemental-composition and geomorphic-time-proceses came to produce purple sand. It was during this time that I saw a surfable wave sweeping across part of the beach, in between two groups of rocks. I hadn't surfed in two days, and, frustrated and desperate, I locked up the dog and threw on my 5/4. I paddled out and looked over the edge on a few waves, trying to identify any submerged rocks and other dangers lurking below before I committed to going on the first wave. When I did, it was a short ride, just a bottom turn and a short burst down the line before pulling out. The second wave I had was great. A speedy, overhead wall. I held a late bottom turn, went high, got speed, and rushed down the line, past two sections, before pulling out. I was stoked and ready for a good surf.
After that second wave, about halfway through the paddle back out, I saw what I'd say was about a 5 inch fin coming towards me in a back and forth motion. With seven years of ocean lifeguarding under my belt as of now, I've spent literally hundreds of 8 hour days starring out to sea. I've seen enough dolphins to know what "not a dolphin" looks like. So I turned and scratched into the first whitewater mush I could catch and rode it all the way to the beach. I was on the beach starring back out at the water, wondering if it could have really been, you know - a shark, when two people came up to me and asked me "did you get out because of that shark?" I said yes, and went back to my car. Call me whatever you want, I still have two arms and two legs.
Most of my free time after that was spent hiking along the select dog friendly forest service trails, trying to avoid poison ivy and failing to keep my dog out of it. It was great though, once I gave up worrying about it, to stare upward in amazement at the gigantic living creatures that surrounded me for as far as I could see.
I managed to time my trip perfectly: in the middle of a 3 day rain storm. Every afternoon I entered my tent before 4 o'clock, with a book, and enough food, tea, and coffee to last me until the next morning. I would read for hours as the dog slept endlessly. Around 8am the next day, we would emerge, and drive somewhere new, searching for some adventure - anything new. On the very last day, the sun emerged, and I was happy to gaze upon a bright blue sky as I headed back down the coast.
One cool thing though was that I got to tick the "McWay Falls" box on my bucket list. I've seen pictures of the waterfall that flows out right onto the sand and is met by the undulating sea for so long, that when I finally saw it in real life, I stood there for 10 minutes in the rain and just watched it flow. I was smiling ear to ear the whole time as people scurried out for a photo and scurried back to their dry cars.
All in all, I have no burning desire to return to Big Sur. It's a pain to get to. The surf ain't fantastic; there are crazy waves, for sure, don't get it twisted. Surfing them is another story though. The trees are amazing, but there are much more accessible redwood forests in CA. It's an adventure though, that's for sure.
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