5 Scenic California Road Trips You Have to Try

Top Summer Destinations in 5 Scenic California Road Trips You Have to Try

The jagged Pacific coast at sunset, a moment of quiet between crowded viewpoints. Photo by author.

Quick Stats

Best months: June–September (coastal fog clears by late morning)
Daily budget: $120–$180 per person (fuel, food, camping/motel split)
Ideal trip length: 10–14 days for a full loop
Difficulty: Moderate (long drives, some heat exposure)
Avg. temp: 75°F–95°F inland, 60°F–70°F on coast
Best for: Solo wanderers, couples, families with older kids

I am standing at a gas station in Gorda, halfway down the Big Sur coast, and a monarch butterfly is drowning in a puddle of spilled diesel. The air smells of hot asphalt and wet sage. A man in a faded surf shirt is scraping a credit card through a stubborn pump reader, swearing softly. This is not the polished California of postcards. It is better.

I have spent five summers chasing the state’s infinite ribbon of road, and I have learned that the best moments happen when the plan breaks. A blown tire near Bodega Bay. A motel with a flickering neon sign and a pool that smelled faintly of bleach and regret. The $9 bottle of water at a state park kiosk that I bought anyway because my throat was sandpaper.

California’s summer road trips are a paradox: they promise freedom but demand patience. The highways are clogged, the parking lots full, and the good campsites booked by February. But the payoff—the moment the Pacific hits a cove of black rock, the way the light turns the Sierra granite into honey—is worth every bit of gridlock. Here are five routes I keep coming back to, each one a different flavor of summer.

The Essentials at a Glance

• Highway 1: Big Sur to San Luis Obispo – 90 miles of pure drama. Plan for 3 hours without stops, 6 hours with them.
• Eastern Sierra: US 395 from Lone Pine to Bridgeport – High-altitude escape from coastal crowds. Wildflowers peak in July.
• Lost Coast: Ferndale to Shelter Cove – Gravel roads and fog. Bring a spare tire and a hoodie.
• Gold Country: CA 49 from Sonora to Nevada City – Summer heat and historic towns. Swimmable rivers at every turn.
• Desert Dusk: Anza-Borrego to Joshua Tree – Only viable at dawn or dusk in summer. Bring 2 gallons of water per person.

The Complete Summer Guide

Big Sur: The Crowded Cathedral

Highway 1 through Big Sur is the most famous stretch of road in America, and it earns that reputation. But summer brings a specific kind of chaos. By 9 a.m., the pullouts at Bixby Creek Bridge are shoulder-to-shoulder with rental cars. A woman in a white dress is trying to take a wedding photo while a teenager yells from a van, “Move your ass, lady!”

Skip the main viewpoints. Instead, stop at the Pfeiffer Beach turnoff (cash only, $12 entry) and walk the purple sand. The water is too cold for swimming—even in August it stabs your ankles—but the rock arch at sunset is a spectacle of orange and violet light. I once sat there for an hour, ignored by twenty other photographers, watching a sea otter crack abalone against a stone.

For food, avoid the overpriced Nepenthe ($22 for a burger). Drive south to Gorda’s general store and buy a bag of salt-and-vinegar chips, a sweating bottle of lemonade, and eat on the hood of your car. The view is the same, and the price is a quarter of the restaurant’s.

One honest warning: the road can close for hours after a mudslide or a car accident. Keep a full tank and a paperback in the car. I once sat parked for three hours near Ragged Point and finished an entire novel.

Eastern Sierra: The Cool Escape

When the coast is socked in with marine layer, drive east. US 395 runs along the spine of the Sierra Nevada, and summer here is a different planet. The air is thin and dry. The sky is a blue so deep it hurts. At 8,000 feet, the temperature drops twenty degrees—a relief after the valley’s triple digits.

Stop at Mammoth Lakes for a hike to McLeod Lake. The trail is rocky and exposed, and you will be breathing hard, but the water is emerald green and the trout rise in circles. I watched a father teach his daughter to cast a fly rod here. She caught nothing. She laughed the whole time.

The town of Lone Pine feels like a film set—because it is. The Alabama Hills have been the backdrop for hundreds of Westerns. The dirt roads are washboarded and dusty. Drive them at sunset, when the rock formations turn the color of burnt sienna. There is a small museum downtown ($6 entry) with props from Iron Man and Django Unchained. It is dusty and charming.

Book campsites at June Lake Loop months in advance. The walk-in sites at Silver Lake are the best bet for last-minute visitors. I once pitched a tent there in a howling wind, and a man from Reno offered me a beer. That’s the Eastern Sierra in summer: harsh, beautiful, generous.

Lost Coast: The Forgotten Edge

The Lost Coast is the longest stretch of undeveloped coastline in the contiguous United States. It is also the most annoying to drive. The road from Ferndale to Shelter Cove is 22 miles of gravel, potholes, and hairpin turns. You will average 15 miles per hour. Your suspension will complain. You will wonder why you came.

And then you will see the black sand beach at Black Sands Beach, and you will understand. The waves here are violent. The fog is thick even in July. I walked the shoreline for an hour and saw only seabirds and the bleached skull of a sea lion. It felt like the edge of the world.

Shelter Cove has a tiny airstrip and a general store that sells ice cream and fishing tackle. The Inn of the Lost Coast is basic but clean—rooms start around $110 a night in summer. Skip the expensive “ocean view” upgrade. Every room smells of salt and damp wood anyway.

A local told me the best time to visit is during a minus tide in August, when the tide pools reveal anemones and purple starfish. Bring water shoes. The rocks are sharp and the barnacles will cut your feet.

Gold Country: River Swimming and Ghost Towns

CA 49 is a summer furnace. The temperature in Sonora and Columbia often hits 100°F by mid-afternoon. But the rivers—the Stanislaus, the Tuolumne, the Yuba—are cold and deep and green. Every small town has a swimming hole, and every swimming hole has a rope swing.

I spent a Tuesday afternoon at Natural Bridges near Columbia. The water was 62°F. A group of kids was jumping from a limestone ledge into a pool below. A woman in a wide-brimmed hat read a paperback on a rock. The sound of water and laughter. That is all.

The town of Nevada City is a more polished version of Gold Country—yoga studios, farm-to-table restaurants, a bookstore that sells used sci-fi for $2. But the Empire Mine State Historic Park ($7 entry) is worth the stop. The mine tunnels are cool and dark and smell of old rock. A ranger told me the temperature stays at 55°F year-round. I stood there for ten minutes, just cooling down.

Do not eat at the tourist trap restaurants in Columbia. Instead, buy a loaf of sourdough from Twisted Oak Bakery in Angels Camp and a bag of cherries from a roadside stand. Eat them in the shade of a cottonwood tree. It tastes like summer.

Desert Dusk: Anza-Borrego and Joshua Tree

Driving the desert in summer is borderline reckless. The heat is brutal—I once measured 118°F on a trail near Borrego Springs. But if you go at the right time (dawn or dusk), the desert is alive. The ocotillo blooms red. The roadrunners sprint across the asphalt. The light is low and golden.

Anza-Borrego Desert State Park is the largest state park in California, and the roads are mostly unpaved. The Palm Canyon Trail is a 1.5-mile walk that ends at a hidden oasis of fan palms. I did it at 7 a.m. in July. The air was already 90°F. The water in the canyon was barely a trickle. But the palms were ancient and green and swaying.

Joshua Tree is different. It is crowded even in summer, because people want the photos. The Cholla Cactus Garden at sunset is a mob scene. I watched a woman in a silk dress climb a rock for an Instagram shot while her boyfriend yelled, “No, the other foot!” The park is beautiful, but the crowds are a drag. Go on a Tuesday. Enter through the less-used Cottonwood Visitor Center on the south side.

Bring extra water. I ran out once near the Keys View overlook, and had to buy a bottle from a German tourist for $5. I still owe him that favor.

Local Tip: Fog Timing on Highway 1

The marine layer burns off by 11 a.m. in most coastal spots, but Pigeon Point and Point Reyes often stay socked in all day. If you want clear skies, head inland for the afternoon and return to the coast around 5 p.m. for golden hour light.

Summer Traveler's Pro Tips

• Book campsites at 8 a.m. sharp – Many state parks (like Julia Pfeiffer Burns and Kirby Cove) release cancellations exactly 7 days in advance. Set an alarm. I have snagged three cancellations this way.
• Buy a National Parks pass – $80 gets you into every federal site. If you hit Yosemite, Joshua Tree, and Lassen on one trip, it pays for itself.
• Use offline maps – Cell service drops for 30-mile stretches on Highway 1 and US 395. Download Google Maps offline for the whole route before you leave.
• Pack a cooler, but accept defeat – Ice melts in 8 hours in summer. Plan to restock at a grocery store every two days. The Mammoth Mountain Market has the best ice prices on 395.
• Bring a sun umbrella – For desert hikes and beach picnics. The $15 model from a gas station works as well as the $50 one from REI.

Common Summer Travel Mistakes

• Underestimating drive times – Google Maps says Big Sur to Monterey is 1 hour. With traffic and photo stops, plan for 3. I once missed a dinner reservation in Carmel by 90 minutes.
• Skipping reservations – Every popular hotel between Santa Barbara and Mendocino is booked by May. I slept in my car near San Simeon once because I thought I could wing it. Do not wing it.
• Drinking too little water – In the desert and mountains, you need 1 gallon per person per day. Headaches and cramps are the first signs. I have had both.
• Forgetting cash – The Pfeiffer Beach entrance and many small farmers' markets in Gold Country are cash-only. There is no ATM for miles in some spots.

Your Summer Travel Checklist

• 🗂️ Physical copies of reservations (phone screens break)
• 🧴 Sunscreen SPF 50+ (reapply every 2 hours)
• 💧 2 reusable water bottles (1-liter Nalgene works best)
• 🔦 Headlamp or flashlight (campground bathrooms are dark)
• 📱 Offline maps downloaded (Google Maps or Gaia GPS)
• 🛠️ Spare tire and tire repair kit (gravel roads eat rubber)
• 🧥 A fleece or wool sweater (coastal evenings are cold even in August)

Traveler FAQ

Q: What is the best month for a California road trip?

A: September offers the best balance of warm weather, fewer crowds, and minimal fog on the coast. June can be cloudy, July and August are crowded, but September still has summer heat with shorter lines at trailheads.

Q: How many days do I need for a California road trip?

A: For the five routes featured here, plan 10 to 14 days to see highlights without rushing. You can do Big Sur in 2 days, the Eastern Sierra in 3, and the other routes in 1–2 days each, but driving between them takes time.

Q: Is it safe to drive Highway 1 in summer?

A: Yes, but expect delays from construction, mudslides, and heavy tourist traffic. Always check the Caltrans website for closures before you leave. The road is narrow in sections, with sheer drop-offs—drive defensively.

Q: Where should I stay between destinations?

A: Small motels in towns like Cambria, Bishop, and Grass Valley are affordable and often have last-minute vacancies if you book midweek. Chain hotels near freeway exits are reliable but soulless. Look for independent “motor inns” from the 1950s—they have character and cheap rates.

Q: What should I pack for summer in California?

A: Layers are essential: shorts and a T-shirt for midday, a fleece and windbreaker for evenings, a swimsuit for every river and beach. Sturdy hiking shoes, a wide-brimmed hat, and a reusable water bottle are non-negotiable. Leave the fancy clothes at home.

Ready for Your Summer Adventure?

The sun is setting on another California summer. I am sitting on the hood of my dusty Subaru near Lake Tahoe, eating a bruised peach and watching the sky turn from pink to purple to a deep, bruised blue. A mosquito lands on my arm. I do not swat it. I am too tired, and too full.

These roads have given me flat tires, sunburns, and one of the worst meals of my life (a gas station burrito near Barstow that I will not describe). They have also given me the sound of wind in redwood groves, the smell of pine needles after a rare summer rain, and the sight of a pod of dolphins off the coast of Morro Bay. The imperfections make the memories stick.

Go. Drive. Get lost. Buy the overpriced water. Talk to the person at the next pump. California is waiting, and she is not perfect. She is better.

Save this guide — bookmark it, screenshot it, print it. And when you come back with your own stories, drop them in the comments below. I want to hear about the flat tire you fixed, the sunset that made you cry, the diner where the coffee was terrible and the pie was perfect.

Words & photography by a traveler who has smelled too much diesel on the Pacific Coast Highway.