Pfeiffer Beach was almost my last stop in Big Sur (I couldn't help stopping at one or two more turnouts on my way north.) It was gorgeous and digging under the first layer of sand revealed purple sand. Not almost purplish but actual purple sand. God is amazing! I would not think to make purple sand.
I could have stayed there for hours on that wide quiet beach. Actually, I could have stayed at Big Sur for a week with a bunch of good books and a friend, of course. A girl can only listen to crazy beetniks for so long.
I'm not going to lie to you. I thought this rock was a little unsightly.
I was here.
See it's purple!
Heading north again.
Bixby Bridge, 1932.
Next stop...San Francisco!