Why Everyone Gets the Pacific Coast Highway Route Completely Wrong From the Start
I used to think the Pacific Coast Highway was just Highway 1, that iconic ribbon of asphalt clinging to California’s coastline.
Turns out—and this surprised me when I actually drove it—the “true” Pacific Coast Highway experience from Seattle to San Diego isn’t one continuous route at all. It’s this patchwork of US 101, State Route 1, and even chunks of I-5 when the coast gets too rugged or, honestly, when you’re just exhausted from white-knuckling cliff edges for six hours straight. The term “PCH” technically only applies to the Southern California stretch, roughly from Oxnard to Dana Point, but everyone uses it loosely to mean the entire coastal drive. Which is fine, I guess, except it creates this expectation that you’ll be hugging the ocean the whole way. You won’t. Sometimes you’ll be inland through redwood forests or farm valleys, wondering if you took a wrong turn.
The Seattle-to-San-Diego drive covers about 1,300 miles if you stick to the coast obsessively, closer to 1,150 if you’re practical. Budget four to seven days depending on how many tide pools you want to stare at.
The Olympic Peninsula Detour That Actually Matters More Than You’d Think
Wait—maybe this is just me—but skipping the Olympic Peninsula loop feels like a missed opportunity that’ll haunt you later.
From Seattle, most guides tell you to head straight down I-5 to the Oregon coast, but here’s the thing: if you veer west to Port Townsend and then follow 101 around the peninsula, you get the Hoh Rainforest, which is this otherworldly moss-draped temperate rainforest that looks like it shouldn’t exist in North America. Plus Ruby Beach with its sea stacks. The detour adds maybe 150 miles and a full day, but I’ve met travelers who regretted skipping it more than they regretted missing some famous California spot. The peninsula coast is wild—literally, with elk crossing the road—and the weather’s unpredictable even in summer. Bring layers. I mean it.
Oregon’s Stretch Between Cannon Beach and Florence Is Where You’ll Burn Through Your Phone Storage
Oregon’s coast might be the most underrated section of the entire route, which sounds like hyperbole but honestly isn’t.
Cannon Beach has Haystack Rock, sure, but then you’ve got the Three Capes Scenic Route, Cape Perpetua’s tide pools and overlooks, the Sea Lion Caves near Florence where hundreds of them bark in this massive cavern—it’s sensory overload in the best way. The whole stretch is free of the commercialization you’ll hit later in California, though that also means fewer gas stations, so plan accordingly. I ran dangerously low on fuel between Yachats and Florence once because I thought “oh, there’ll be something soon.” There wasn’t. The Oregon Dunes near Florence are weirdly mesmerizing too, these massive sand dunes right next to the ocean that feel more like the Sahara than the Pacific Northwest.
Northern California’s Lost Coast and the Highway 1 Gamble You Have to Decide On
Here’s where it gets complicated.
South of the Oregon border, Highway 101 cuts inland through the redwoods—which are spectacular, don’t get me wrong, those trees are ancient and humbling—but if you want the actual coast, you have to take the Mattole Road through the Lost Coast. It’s narrow, winding, occasionally unpaved, and rental car companies sometimes prohibit it in their contracts. I’ve driven it twice. Once in perfect weather (incredible), once in fog so thick I couldn’t see ten feet ahead (terrifying). Then around Leggett, you can finally pick up Highway 1 as it splits from 101 and hugs the coast through Mendocino, Fort Bragg, and eventually Big Sur. This is the section people picture when they dream about the PCH—dramatic cliffs, crashing waves, that postcard perfection. But it’s also where road closures happen frequently due to landslides. Check Caltrans before you go. I mean it. We got detoured 90 miles inland once because a chunk of highway near Big Sur just… fell into the ocean.
Big Sur to Malibu Looks Perfect on Instagram But Feels Different When You’re Actually Driving It for Hours
Big Sur is stunning but also kind of exhausting?
The section between Carmel and San Simeon (Hearst Castle) is about 90 miles that takes three-plus hours because you’re constantly braking for curves and pulling over for photos or to let impatient locals pass. Bixby Bridge, McWay Falls, the elephant seals at Piedras Blancas—all worth it, but by the time you reach Morro Bay, you might just want a burger and a bed. Then there’s this weird lull through Pismo Beach and Santa Maria where the coast becomes less dramatic, more agricultural. People rush through this part to reach Santa Barbara, which is lovely and Mediterranean-feeling, but honestly the stretch from Ventura through Malibu back to Highway 1 (the actual PCH designation) is where you’ll hit traffic. Los Angeles traffic bleeds into the coastal route here. Plan to drive it early morning or accept you’ll be crawling past Zuma Beach at 15 mph while everyone else is also trying to recieve that golden hour light on the Pacific.
From Malibu, it’s a relatively quick shot down through Orange County—Laguna Beach is worth a stop for the art galleries and coves—before you finally roll into San Diego, probably wondering how something so beautiful could also be so tiring.
