Weekend Escape: Big Sur : The scenery is priceless, the riverside cabins affordable in this rugged ‘habitat of the rich’

The name evokes a last frontier, a place that remained wild into the 20th Century and lured iconoclasts such as Henry Miller and Jack Kerouac, who survived on abundant talent and not much money. Well, sort of. According to scornful old-timers, Kerouac arrived in a taxicab from Monterey and Miller made a very tidy living off his European royalties.

Others, however, did live a self-reliant life on this rugged, glorious stretch of coast below Carmel, and their names endure in the geography--Pfeiffer beaches and parks, Post ranch, Molera State Park. California 1 wasn’t completed until 1937, electricity came in 1949 and dial phone service in 1956. Alas, “Big Sur today does not live up to its legendary reputation,” writes Rosalind Sharpe Wall in her perceptive anecdotal history, “A Wild Coast and Lonely.” “Artists, writers and latter-day hippies do exist and there are even marijuana growers there, but they are rare and not very flashy. It is mainly the habitat of the very rich, plus a dwindling handful of old-timers.”

Those very rich who are without their own cliff-side vacation retreat can stay, for up to $500 a night, in the luxurious digs of the Ventana Inn and its newer luxe competitor, the Post Ranch Inn. The rest of you, go pitch a tent. Well, not quite. In Big Sur Canyon, nestled not right along the coast but next to the Big Sur River, are a few places for travelers who like the outdoors but not well enough to sleep in it.

My husband, Rob, and I headed north to our favorite, the Ripplewood Inn, a few weeks ago for a long four-day weekend. We’re attracted to its individual, heated redwood cabins that hug the riverbank, most with kitchens and fireplaces. The biggest--with separate living rooms or second bedrooms and decks--go for a modest $80 a night. There are other similarly priced places nearby--the cabins of Big Sur State Park and the motel units of the River Inn among them--but we like the kitchens and the location of the Ripplewood.

One drawback is that Ripplewood kitchens come with a teakettle and nothing else. Zero. Not even a frying pan. But it’s not that hard to pack a serviceable kitchen in a liquor box and a couple of bags. If you’d rather not cook at all, the Ripplewood has a home-style restaurant that does especially good breakfasts, and next door is the upscale Glen Oaks restaurant where chef Marilee Childs does inventive things with fresh, local ingredients, especially seafood and vegetarian dishes.

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To feed the mind, the quirky little Big Sur Library (limited hours) is on the Ripplewood grounds.

The 300-mile drive to Big Sur is a reward itself, especially after departing U.S. 101 at San Luis Obispo, where you may want to stop at the last big supermarket for groceries.

We arrived at the Ripplewood near sunset on a Saturday and spent one night at a comfortable cabin above the highway because the bigger riverside cabins were all taken. (You need to reserve way ahead for these, especially in summer; units begin at $45 plus tax.) The next day we moved to Cabin No. 1, with its spacious living area, tiled kitchen, two queen beds and huge river-stone fireplace. The deck overhung the Big Sur River and only one window looked out on the tumbledown trailer on the next property. And the sense of space and isolation was priceless.

For dinner on arrival night we were joined by our photographer friend, Thea, and her companion, Ray, who were on the last day of their own mini-vacation. We made a risotto with shiitake mushrooms and some Aidell’s hot-pepper sausage we’d bought from our Larchmont butcher. We steamed a double batch of mixed vegetables--squash, carrots, asparagus--and put aside half. Dessert was sharp Cheddar and tart apples. We washed it all down with a $10 Chardonnay.

For the next two days we hiked, exploring the canyons that contain the real history of Big Sur . . . up Partington Ridge, where Henry Miller lived, through deep and sacred redwood and tanbark oak forests, to the deserted and decaying Tin House, built all of sheet metal by Franklin Roosevelt’s buddy, Lathrop Brown . . . around Andrew Molera State Park, at the mouth of the Big Sur River, with its easy two-mile bluff-top walk to a wild, windy and usually unpeopled beach. There we huddled in the lee of a cliff and ate our bagels, sausage and fruit while a flock of pelicans labored overhead against the gale.

We went through the tamed and paved but ecologically priceless Point Lobos, where patience is almost always rewarded with the spotting of a sea otter, the cutest of oceangoing mammals. In spring and early summer, the roaring sea lions out on Seal Rock can be heard for miles.

For our second dinner, we made an easy frittata with the leftover vegetables and sausage, supplemented with some sauteed peppers and onions. After dinner, we savored tea and a glass of brandy in front of the fireplace and fell dreamless into nine undisturbed hours of sleep, a grand luxury.

Shoppers are not entirely bereft in Big Sur. The gift shops at Nepenthe (a legendary eatery with a great burger and better view), Big Sur Center and the River Inn have quirky arts and crafts, including some locally made soaps, jewelry and crafts. The Coast Gallery has lovely wood and stone crafts, and prints and paintings by Henry Miller, who was as much an artist as a writer. Carmel, 20 miles north, boasts dozens of galleries and a truly exhausting number of “shoppes.” The Miller library, just south of Nepenthe, sells books, prints and local arts.

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The most-banned author in the English language, Henry Miller lived a quiet life in Big Sur, even by his own account (in “Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch”) and greatly admired the long-timers in the canyons around him.

For a taste of that older life, drive the unpaved 10-mile Coast Road, whose southern end is across from the entrance to Andrew Molera State Park, or drive Palo Colorado Road a few miles farther north. Both are narrow, bumpy and sometimes dark as they pass through the redwoods, but they are rewarding in both history and scenery.

For more temporal sustenance, the Ripplewood, the River Inn and Big Sur Center all sell basic foodstuffs; there’s a terrific greengrocer, Pezzini Farms, and fish market in the shopping center at Highway 1 and Crossroads Boulevard in Carmel, about 20 miles north. So even the fussiest eater can fill in the gaps locally.

For our final evening, Rob and I combed our hair and walked a hundred yards to the Glen Oaks. Our fresh local squid with wild rice was terrific; the strawberries and ice cream crepe was a sin. The bill, even with wine (vintages by the glass), was a not-bad $60.

On Tuesday, headed homeward, we stopped to watch as a very low fog crept in and coated the surf far below the cliffs, then we headed onto an alternate route to U.S. 101, over Nacimiento-Fergusson Road at the southern end of Big Sur, just past the settlement of Lucia. (It was settled by the Dani family, one of whose handsome sons drove a Pfeiffer daughter to suicide by falling in love with her younger sister. Who said those settlers lived placid lives?)

Budget for Two

Gas for 4x4 Pathfinder: $42.05

Ripplewood Resort, three nights: 264.00

Lunch: 11.00

Groceries and wine: 79.05

Dinner, Glen Oaks; 70.83

State park entrance fees: 10.00

Lunches on the road: 22.24

FINAL TAB: $499.17

Ripplewood Inn, Route 1, Big Sur, Calif. 93920; tel. (408) 667-2242.