A tour of King City’s historical sites was full of unexpected twists and turns in the countryside.

Agata Popęda here, still thinking about my last weekend’s trip to King City from where, with the San Antonio Valley Historical Association, I—along with 60 people, not discouraged by rain—did a spring tour, known also as “Shooting the Loop.” And a loop it was.

It was an everybody-drives-their-own-car type of experience. I was accompanied by my fellow staff writer at the Weekly, Celia Jiménez, who was the driver. We met at Hestia Cafe (a lovely place), listened to instructions and were handed the map of the loop, a terrain in between Mexican Land Grants. However, when Jiménez and I stopped listening, thinking we knew it all, another piece of information was announced: Due to rain we would meet as a group not at the former Roy Bray/Baldwin property at the intersection of Highway 25 and Lonoak Road, but in the Tully Hall, an old conference center. “Did you get all of it?” Jiménez asked me and I said, “Yep, I got this.” In consequence, while we were the youngest in the group (most participants, many of them members of the San Antonio Valley Historical Association, were in their 60s), no one did such a bad job as we did.

Should I add that, after leaving town, we completely lost our cell phone and internet connection? Well, we did. Soon, it turned out that the trip was an involuntary treasure hunt type of thing, with frequent stops and turning around. Jiménez was upset that I didn’t listen to the change in the instructions, and I was furious that she would not put the heat on. 

Since it was raining, the landscape was a bit gloomy so it was not a full spring day experience, but it was still jaw-dropping. The fields turned from golden to dark blond, wet and leaning on each other. The blue of the sky was turned off, delicate and melancholic. After getting lost a few times we passed Gill Onions, King City Nursery, King City Transplanting and Rio Farms. As the instructions advised us, we noticed Chalone Peaks in the distance to the left looking north.

We passed the border between Monterey County and San Benito County (several times back and forth) and when we eventually reached the Tully Hall, already in San Benito County, where the presentations, full of anecdotes about pioneer families settling here, had already started. The tour ended with a visit to one of those big family ranches, with many elements preserved for years. We got back to the car and despite following a line of cars of other participants—some of them also got lost, we noticed—we found ourselves once again alone, again crossing the county borders and having no idea where we were. 

“I’m done with it,” the driver said suddenly and made a sharp turn and the car accelerated toward King City and civilization. We were laughing at ourselves the whole way back to Seaside (fine, we stopped in Soledad for shaved ice). It’s crucial to add that Jiménez attended more trips and tours by the San Antonio Valley Historical Association, and she never got lost. But that’s “the Loop” for you, mysterious, gloomy, leading astray.

Only when I woke up the next day did I realize how much fun I had. Highly recommended.

Have a great weekend.

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