Jade Cove Poem by Jay Bates

I fairly flew down the lightly traveled road, through the mist and scattered rain, among the resident literary ghosts imagined, going down Big Sur.

Visions of Jeffers, Kerouac, and Miller swirled; over the Bixby Bridge, beneath the forever circling giant condors; an interlude at Pitkins Curve Bridge and the massive construction of Rain Rocks rock shed.

'And here the heavy future hangs like a cloud; the enormous scene; the enormous games preparing. Weigh on the water and strain the rock; the stage is here, the play is conceived; the players are not found.' visions of Jeffers unbound

The fog bore down on the pendent cliffs, as if whispering follow me, follow me into the breaking surf, but the mountains stood firm with their aerie crests, but for an occasional rolling rock; and I drove on.

Rounding a curve, I passed a plain sign, 'Jade Cove' I had arrived. Slowly circling I found my assigned camping spot and backed in, found my friends and headed for the cliffs.

So here I was at Jade Cove and soon clambering down the cliffs on a juted frayed rope, tempting the jostling waves, fearing a rouge wave; digging and moving rock in the tidal zone.

Tiny bits of apple green jade glistened among the sand fleas, and lots of pretender serpentine and jasper among the flotsam and jetsam. Is this jade, Harry? No way, keep looking Jay.

Soon storm clouds moved in and we beat a hasty retreat up the slippery sliding cliff face and back to our vehicles and prepared for the long oncoming stormy night.

Around midnight, I awoke to the heavy tattooing of hard-driven rain on the rooftop of my battered Jeep. I tried the earplugs, without much success. I laid there in the total darkness remembering;

Boy he must of gone crazy out there. Ah but they've never seen the northern lights, they have never seen a wild grizzly, They've never seen a giant condor on wing, They've never seen the sights atop Mount Rainier.

Slowly the dawn burned bright and the mountain tops glistened with fresh fallen snow. Is this not a special place with snowy peaks and thundering breakers on towering cliffs? I must be crazy to keep going outback. I hope it doesn't show.

We drove beneath one of the numerous bridges on Route One built when men dared to gouge a road from the mountainside above the surf. Now they work painfully slow, to keep the sea and mountain at bay so we mortals can fly down the wild coast.

Out into the tidal zone, ever vigilant for rouge waves, we walked among the boulder stack looking for diopside with streaks of jade, I found some jade. My eyes were calibrated at last. A few precious pieces to remember another trip outback.

Back in camp I met a local jade diver who showed us some beautiful blue jade and some outlaw gold dredgers who had their dredge destroyed by a jade diver from Carmel. Yes, the play conceived, the actors found, and conflict unbound.

The breakers bore in, the mountains continue their slow rise and crumbling into the sea inordinately on conflicting tectonic plates, oblivious to the puny plays and conflicts of man.

Sand fleas in an enormous game. Another momentous trip into the outback, and some jade at last.