BIG SUR RIVER
My son Jeffrey Cobb and I rode my motorcycle down to Big Sur from Santa Cruz planning to camp one night in 1987. Pfeiffer was full and Fernwood too funky, so we just spent the day in the park and rode home that night.
I sketched this as he swam.
I sketched this as he swam.
Three years later, I'd drive down alone and spend the day on the river mourning his passing.
