|Does anyone see the gnome climbing out of the fallen log?|
The campground is decidedly different than most state park campgrounds. Space is at a premium, and sites are very close to each other as if planners were trying to stuff as many spaces as possible in the limited flat ground. This is a clue to the heritage of the park; it was once privately owned (one hiking guide calls it "Big Sur funky"). Limekiln only became a state park in 1995.
We had a sweet little experience on our visit. We were foolishly vagabonding, hoping to catch an empty camping spot on the Big Sur Coast...in the summer. Talk about a hopeless quest! The hosts at the camps farther south laughed when we asked about open spaces or cancellations. The young man at the Limekiln station looked at our small car, and suggested we check campsite 26 1/2, a campsite that doesn't actually exist, much like Harry Potter's King's Cross train station gate 9 3/4. There was no parking, and barely enough space for the Taj MaHayes tent, but it worked and we had a delightful night. Such a crowded campground has a potential for much noise and mayhem, but the night was quiet, and one of the darkest I can ever remember experiencing. During a late-night stroll, the only light in the whole camp was a single candle on a table, and the dim light flickered mysteriously in the trees up above.
Havasu Falls in Grand Canyon.