Locals squabble with the state over the Big Sur Coastal Trail planning process.

Several wads of toilet paper litter a shady cypress grove overlooking the Pacific in Garrapata State Park. My trail guide, Lee Otter of the Coastal Commission, jokingly identifies them as “Kleenex flowers.”

Continuing along the subtly marked dirt path, Otter points out gravel indicating that the old county road once snaked through here. Within arm’s reach, butterflies flit through buckwheat blossoms in rusty orange, fuchsia, blush and white. Farther up, we round a curve where the trail crumbles precariously under our feet, the slope dropping hundreds of feet into the sea. “Instability makes for great scenery,” Otter says with a grin.

Our stroll through Soberanes Point in Big Sur illustrates both the potential and the challenges in building a continuous trail along California’s coast. Today, hikers traversing the route encounter inconsistent lengths of trail, some breathtaking and others anticlimactic, broken up by sketchy stretches along the shoulder of Highway 1 as it snakes 75 miles from the Carmel River to San Carpoforo Creek.

After years of talk, the California Coastal Conservancy has finally secured $75,000 in federal money and $100,000 of its own funds to draft a plan for the trail’s Big Sur segment.

Even as the long-delayed trail plan finds its financial footing, it’s already generating resistance from a group of Big Sur locals who feel they’re being left out the process. While most support the trail effort, they say it won’t work without the solid backing of the historically cantankerous locals. The Conservancy counters that professional consultants are needed to work out the trail’s tricky technical features.

To understand the squabble and how to resolve it, Otter says, it’s important to understand Big Sur’s history. As we hike, he describes the coastal trail as a concept that has faded in and out of the public’s vision, like Big Sur’s myriad paths, for 150 years.