When you drive westbound on Hwy 17 leaving San Jose and the Silicon Valley behind, you enter the coastal mountain range. Depending on your driving ability the Monterey bay and Santa Cruz will appear on the horizon in about 15 minutes.

If you have nerves of steel and a car that corners well the drive can create in you a sense of adventure and exhilaration. This drive offers a sort of rush that European road racers might feel and once passing the summit mark you get the sense of being an Olympic downhill snow skier on a slalom course.

Whatever be your experience the ride is memorable, the view breathtaking and the destination worth every bit of your effort. When your determination begins to wane remember that a glass of house Chardonnay at Stagnaro’s on the wharf will help you overcome any lingering trepidations after you pass the finish line called Hwy 1.

This is what Santa Cruz is to me. Still, in my 50 years she remains my destination of choice for de-stressing. My heart’s real home, thanks old girl for always being you. Now a languid haven for old arthritic hippies, 80s new agers, and those that are pierced, punked, dark or startling. You have willingly gathered us all in over the years and still welcome us back no matter what. We are all your children created in misty salt air, sticky sugar sand and lush mountains of warm seaweed along your shore. You are our true and eternal earth mother and your roller coaster isn’t too shabby either.