One Final Adventure for 2012: The Coast Post

I truly believe the West Coast is the Best Coast.
And on New Years Eve, Betsy, Angela, Margaret, Ellen and I headed out on Highway 1 to soak it all in.
Squeezing just one more adventure into 2012.
We loaded up Betsy's mom's Swagger Wagon and got to adventuring.

We had a loose agenda, a few things we had done before, and a few that we had yet to try.
It was as if the coast knew we'd be showing up with one big camera and several iPhones, as she was dressed to blue sky, green grass, and yellow wildflower perfection.

And after we took an unholy amount of photos in this incredible field, we headed southbound on Highway 1.

The sky was as blue as it comes. The clouds were wispy and white. The Pacific was dressed in it's New Year's Eve sparkles. And everything around us was lush and clean and green from all the recent rains.

And then this happened.

And then this.

And with the help of the self timer, this too.

And can we talk about this?!!?
Or maybe not, because seriously, I have no words. Well, maybe one. REFLECTIONS!!

All of this, and we hadn't even had lunch yet.
The day had just begun.

And then there was lunch.
And it was good.

And after lunch.
There were goats.
And goat cheese.
And a goat farm.
So much goaty goodness.

Local honey, cheese, olive oil.

It was all so pretty.

And then I got a text, "come upstairs ASAP"
To which I found Betsy and Margaret in the cutest little banquet room.
It was so dark, and I hardly got any pictures.
But all of us were day dreaming hipster dinner parties, with live music, twinkle lights, fresh flowers, and plenty of cheese.

And it overlooked what we came for, the goats!
So we headed down to see the little nannies.

And stood there standing and watching goats.
For a lot longer than was probably necessary.
But, GOATS.
So, you know. We stared.
And tried to make it interesting.

After the goat farm, we headed back to highway one, but not without another awesome photoshoot location detour.
Because, how beautiful are these backdrops.

And since the days are so short, the sun was already getting lower, the clouds were getting wispier, shadows longer, and the glow was this beautiful creamy yellow.

The sea was foamy.
And the waves were crashing the rocks, while the spray met us up on the bluff.

And we kept going.
Little by little, down the coastline.
A mile here, a mile there.
And next stop, we were at a strawberry farm.

With an honor system bakery and gift shop.
A little till left on the counter, where you make your own change, and generosity is encouraged.

There is a 10% discount for those who come by bicycle AND are wearing a helmet. (Safety first!)
A little seating area welcomes you to stay for a while, play vintage board games, play with old timey toys, and flip through yellow paged books.
All things kitschy. All things magical.

The day was nearly done.
We continued all the way to Santa Cruz. With berry filled bellies.
Walked a little bit of the downtown, did some window shopping, and as the sun dipped below the horizon, we returned home.

Countless adventures on the books. Closing out 2012 with seabreezes and ocean air.
I think every year should be closed out this way. Every day, if it were possible.

Later that night, back in town, we rang in the new year with old friends, a shiny disco ball, festive hats, and smokey party poppers.

A day like this was most definitely the best way to say goodbye twenty-twelve, and hello twenty-thirteen.