That title comes from an amazing and hilarious book on Big Bur by Rosalind Sharpe Wall. She died some time ago, but was born in Big Sur in the early 1920s and lived there until the late 1990s. Starting at the age of 11, she'd hike up into the wilderness and interview ancient pioneers and crazy artists, and she writes about the coast long before the hippies and billionaires arrived, back when it was a haven for bootleggers, criminals and naturalists. It was wild as hell and her book is such a great look into why all of these crazy and wonderful people fought tooth and nail to make this magical place their home.
Here's my favorite quote from the book:
"As a child I never felt alone: I was always being watched; the land itself or something within it was always aware of me, always watching men. Often I wished it wouldn't. I had no secret or private thoughts. I was transparent as glass. But as the late Frank Post wrote in his diary, "Many a time, in the deep woods, my Great Protector was with me, always watching me, standing guard over me."
