Surfer babes and bros in LA know it as the PCH. In sandy-chic Carmel, the realm Dirty Harry once ruled, it’s called the Big Sur Coast Highway. To Santa Crustaceans in Banana Slug country, it’s the Cabrillo Highway or — when they’re trolling, and they always are — Mission Street. Meanwhile, Mendocino’s clandestine Parnassian pot growers prefer the Shoreline Highway.

But to the greater universe, it’s lovingly “the One.” As in Highway 1.

Stretching from the SoCal town of Dana Point in the OC to the rugged redwoods of Leggett in Northern California’s Mendocino County, it’s fitting that the polyonymous strip to the stars has more AKAs than Kanye West, who used to live right off of it in Malibu.

But California’s longest state route is considerably more low-key than it, having been created over the last century (at times, by cheap prison labor from San Quentin) in slow-moving, piecemeal fashion as a scenic, sexier alternative to US Route 101, often connecting otherwise unreachable coastal towns to the rest of the state (to the chagrin of some).

Highway 1’s problem child is its Big Sur leg, home to the most celebrated star of “Big Little Lies” after Reese Witherspoon: the Bixby Bridge.

Abusive Mother Nature — in the form of rainstorm-fueled rockslides, landslides, mudslides, basically all the slides that aren’t electric — closed the 90-mile stretch between Carmel and Cambria for the last three years.

And that’s not out of character. Points along that way literally include Paul’s Slide, Dolan Point Slide and Regent’s Slide.

Drivers had to be tragically detoured through the Salinas Valley on the 101. Never forget.

But hooray, in mid-January of this year, it reopened … until a month later in mid-February when, womp womp, after several thunderstorms, a 6.8-mile stretch of it near Regent’s Slide between the Esalen Institute and Lucia closed again due to mudslides and cleanup, only to be partially re-re-opened with one-way traffic.

And on and on it goes. Perils of that Central Coast grind. Remember: Traffic and weather on the 8s is not a lost art if you have a car radio.

Highway 1 has a bit of dissociative identity disorder, as well. Mostly, it runs west of US 101 along the coast (where possible) — but in Santa Barbara and Ventura counties, not to mention over the Golden Gate Bridge between San Francisco and Marin County, it runs concurrently with its heated rival, that same 101.

Just know that the 656-mile-long twisting, turning thoroughfare rolls through, or right by, every California city every non-Californian has heard of (save for San Diego, apologies).

Highway 1 is also a little fuzzy when it comes to its age. Its construction commenced in the 1910s, but it wasn’t dubbed SR 1 until the ‘30s, so have fun with whatever math suits your bar’s trivia night. Just know, fistfights may ensue.

And that’s before you even get started with the name.

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Way to go: The sexiest HWY 1 off-ramps

Santa Monica

Ahem, a foul odor has “ranked” this celebutopolis’s beach as one of the grossest in California because of bird poop — but its stinky pier is still way better than its “Falling Down”-starring next-door sibling in Venice.

At the highest point on its Pacific Wheel, you’ll be 130 feet above the ocean (and the funk). The Ferris wheel is quite like the one in Atlantic City, except solar-powered.

San Simeon

While William Randolph Hearst was ready to “furnish the war” if the US furnished his pictures, he didn’t need any help decking out Hearst Castle (aka Xanadu in “Citizen Kane”).

The 107-year-old estate is now a national and state historical landmark in San Luis Obispo County; $35, $18 for kiddos.

Monterey

And you thought Taylor Swift was only a fan of watching playful beasts behind glass inside an Arrowhead Stadium VIP suite.

In last year’s “The Official Release Party of a Showgirl” promo flick, she ditched her Travis Kelce jersey for a vintage ‘90s sweatshirt depicting the beloved Monterey Bay Aquarium sea otters.

Her costume change netted $2.3 million for the 322,000-square-foot pride of Cannery Row of John Steinbeck fame.

Pebble Beach

Seventeen is a prime number in math, even more so in real estate.

Take a self-guided tour of Pebble Beach’s mansion- and golf course-lined 17-Mile Drive for $12.25 per vehicle, and you’ll see why.

Come for the Lone Cypress, stay for Bill Murray sightings at the annual AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am.

Pacifica

The best resto in NorCal isn’t some Michelin-starred show-off in Napa — it’s a Taco Bell off 1 in San Mateo County.

This rare beachfront Cantina breed of the species squats on one of the region’s most coveted sites (once upon a time, it was an A&W).

Beyond the burritos and bowls, it fully serves booze in yard-long sizes (and now has a proper bar) and sells merch you’ll even see worn overseas. The communal seating outside to watch the surfers is always cramped, but for good reason.

Marshall

There’s only one place on Marin County’s Tomales Bay to buy your bivalves, and that’s Hog Island Oyster Co., the famed family-owned microchain’s HQ.

Bench up under their tent and watch as staffers shuck that suckable succulence you shelled out for.

Mendocino

Cats and books go hand in paw — both are best enjoyed curled up. In the unincorporated namesake of Mendocino County, its storied Gallery Bookshop has a black cat logo, and a calico-ish black-and-white one IRL as its official bookstore mascot, the Great Catsby.

He’s living his best life among the shelves, stacks, and card racks and “can usually be found sitting in the window, warming himself in a patch of sunlight” and is even on the ‘gram.