Traveling the Rocky Shores

We began our week in Willits, CA, a small town on HWY 101 in the Redwood Forest of Northern California. It sits on the edge of Mendocino Wine Country. After spending a week there, we added this area to our list of contenders for a place to settle down when we leave the road. We stayed at Mendocino Redwoods RV Resort. Unfortunately, the rain and cold moved in on our first full day, limiting our wandering. If we had had a lot of rigid plans for our stay, this would have been very frustrating. But it was just a mild inconvenience that we could work around. Flexibility was essential this week. But I am getting ahead of myself.

Driving the 101 from Petaluma was a pleasant experience. The land gradually became increasingly rugged, with vineyards clinging to the side of the hills and filling the valleys. Unfortunately, I do not buy $40-$50 wine, so we drove by, looking forward to crossing the Mendocino County Line. Once we crossed the line and Marlene played the song, we saw more ranches than vineyards. We were in a wine country that we could afford! The hills became steeper with more rock outcroppings. We climbed a long grade into Willits, and the Redwoods surrounded us. The valley views were astounding. We entered Willits and found a charming little town nestled among the Redwoods.

 

Our first full day was gloomy and cold, so we declared a Cold Chill and Chore Day. Laundry was first up. Then it was time to look ahead. I discovered that our plans to visit Crater Lake would be hindered by limited road access and the Visitor Center being closed for the 2023 season. This led to another change in itinerary and shifted our track west to spend a week along the 101 in Langlois, OR. This is the 6^th change in sites in a row. We are wandering more than we had planned. Flexibility is becoming more of a skill than an aspiration for this trip. But these four nights allowed us to catch up on chores and get in some reading time. Marlene, being more cold-tolerant than I got out and enjoyed the trail around the park. I spent my time reading, writing, processing photos, and napping. 

When we had a break in the drizzle, we decided it was time to get out and explore. We ended up in Hopland, CA, for a wine tasting. Hopland is a small farming community that used to produce most of the hops for American brewers until a root fungus wiped out the crop. Now it has become a part of wine country and sits about 1,200 feet below Willits. We went to the Graziano Family of Wines. We made the mistake of relying on Google Maps. We ended up at the vineyard offices next door to a shuttered Cannabis processing factory that was closed due to lack of demand. (Figure that!) We found the tasting room in Downtown Hopland. We walked into the tasting room only to be greeted by the quintessential Californian; blonde hair, a self-assured smile, and an easy-going personality. He led us both through the inventory, whites for Marlene and reds for me. His knowledge and salesmanship teamed up on us, and we bought two bottles, but he threw in the tastings for free. I love being "sold to" by a skilled and personable salesperson. Thanks to the Graziano Family for a delightful afternoon.

We stopped by The International Observatory in Ukiah, CA, on the way back to Willits for the evening. Yep, this is it. It is part of Observatory Park. (I posted the picture of the big tree at the other end of the park on FB earlier in the week.) This Observatory was built in 1899 as one of five International Latitude Observatories to measure the wobble of the Earth as it spins on its axis. It is placed on the 39° 08° north latitude with its partners in Uzbekistan, Italy, Maryland, USA, and Japan. The work conducted here and at the other sites became the foundation of all location technologies, including our GPS in Koko and Nakai. It has also contributed to understanding Pacific plates and the movement of the various faults that run along the Pacific Rim. The Observatory closed its doors in 1982 when satellites and radio telescopes took over. But this is impressive for a non-descript white frame building at the back of a small public park in Ukiah, CA.

The next day we headed out to see the Redwoods, up close and personal, at Hendy Woods State Park. I learned the difference between Redwoods and Sequoias. They are both Cypress Trees, similar to the trees I grew up with along the Blanco and San Marcos Rivers in Central Texas. But they are much, much bigger. The Redwoods reach 300 Feet, the length of a football field tall. The Sequoia are not as tall but have much wider trunks that can reach 70 feet across at the base. Imagine two school buses parked end to end. They are both redwoods, but the Sequoia is much more massive by volume. They can live for 2,500 to 3,000 years and serve as stately sentinels in their ancient forests.

 

The floor of the Redwood forest is soft, carpeted by the fallen leaflets of the tree. It muffles many of the ambient sounds. But I could still hear the trees moan and creak as they moved with the wind. Muffle these sounds a bit, and they amp up the mystery and wonder of the forest. Spending time with these magnificent living things filled me with wonder and awe.

 

One of the most enjoyable parts of our week was an afternoon spent on HWY 1 between Navarro Point and Fort Bragg. HWY 1 is the California State Highway that runs, for the most part, right along the coast. It is known for steep, winding roads with frequent landslides and mudslides in the rainy season. This stretch was amazing, even on a cloudy day. The most scenic spot was the mouth of the Russian River pictured above. This river was named for the Russian Fur Traders that used it to ferry their pelts to market. It has a picturesque headland that reaches out into the Pacific. Each river that flows out of the coastal mountain range forms its own cove at its mouth. This cove has Sea Caves with tidal flows that ebb and flow with each ocean swell and is covered by a brilliant tapestry of flowers that thrive in the moist, cool coastal air. The Redwoods tower over the whole setting and add to the magic. I could have lingered here for days, bewitched by this stunningly beautiful holy place.

The following day, we headed out for our last California stop for this trip. (We will be back in the future.) The drive to Crescent City has both beautiful and harrowing. There were places where the Redwoods were right at the side of the road and showed signs of being clipped by passing cars and trucks. The roads were, at times, steep, narrow, and twisting. Sometimes the roads were all three at once. This is not my favorite combination, especially when I am driving Koko. But, along the way, we stopped at the prettiest Rest Stop I have ever seen. The picture above will give you an idea.

While waiting for Marlene to return to Koko, I watched a woman walk her dog. The dog, like all animals, was very present in the moment. There was something that kept capturing his attention, and he would stop and look around. The woman would have none of that and gave the leash a gentle tug so the dog would get on with his business. She was not in the moment and likely was thinking about getting on down the road. That dog taught me something fundamental about wandering. It is not about what is down the road. I need more presence in the moment and less "leash" for the road ahead of me. I needed to get out from behind the wheel and take a walk through that beautiful Rest Area. The picture is from that stroll. After that bit of Travel Academy with professor dog, I enjoyed the last bit of the road to our campsite. Twists, narrow lanes, and downhill slopes became part of the moment as we wandered to our next home for the week.

When we arrived at Village Camper Inn RV Park in Crescent City, CA, it was gloomy and threatening to rain. We were able to get set up just before the first showers started. They continued all night. But we were safe and dry in a beautiful campsite that revealed its beauty the next day when the sun came out. We were looking forward to wandering around this area of Redwoods, Lighthouses, Elk, and many other wonders awaiting our wandering attention.

We found the Del Norte Historical Society Museum in Crescent City the next day. We learned a great deal about this community. The local Chamber of Commerce could have curated most of the local museums we visit. They advertise how wonderful the land and people have always been. But we occasionally find one that tells a much more complete story, and this stop was one of those. It did talk about the heroic efforts to rescue people from ships that became stranded or sunk on the rocks of their harbor. It offered an informative narrative of hard-working, industrious people building their lives on this remote part of the California coastline. But it also spoke of the expulsion of the Chinese workers and their families who, according to the local "fraternal organizations," had stayed too long after their labor was no longer needed. The first time they loaded them up into four ships, one of which sank on its way to San Francisco, where the survivors were dumped at the SF Harbor. However, the sawmill bosses needed more workers and snuck more Chinese in. But the same organizations promptly ran these people off, as well. Very few county historical societies have the intestinal fortitude to tell the whole story of their communities. The De Norte Historical Society did so with sensitivity, honesty, and (I am sure) over the objection of some powerful voices in their community. Thank you!

 

We spent a good part of the rest of the afternoon doing some reconnaissance for an evening shoot of a Pacific Sunset. We settled on an overlook that had sea stacks behind us, birds all around us, and a classic setting for the setting sun before us. The image is of the sunset that evening. The large rocks are called Sea Stacks. They are the core of hard rock that remains after the ocean waves have washed away the softer rock and soil that initially surrounded them. These rocks were once the foundation of the headlands beneath our feet, but time, storms, and a daily pounding by the surf have stranded them in the cold Pacific surf. They have become shelters for birds, sea lions, elephant seals, and fish who live in the coves. The giant sea stack in the distance is known as Castle Rock and is a vital link in the life of the California coastline. We stood on our coastal perch for over an hour in the cold wind and shot hundreds of pictures. Please check my page on FB and Flickr pages for more of these shots. While waiting for the sun to set, we listened to the symphony of Black Oyster Catchers, California Gulls, Glaucous0winged Gulls, and other sea birds settling in for the night. Gradually, the sun, clouds, and water painted a glorious canvas in the sky that reminded me why we chose the life of wanderers. It is all about those moments of magic when we allow ourselves to be flexible enough to be there when they happen. This was a magical way to end our week.

 

As I sat down to think about this week and its lessons on flexibility and wandering, I kept hearing Tevye singing in my head. 

 

Tevye is a character from the show "Fiddler on the Roof" that tells of the expulsion of the Jews from the Steppe in Russia before the revolution. Tevye, a poor milkman, has five daughters, three of whom need husbands. But cultural change is sweeping through the land, and his daughter's engagements challenge the social norms of his orthodox Jewish village. The first daughter marries the man she loves rather than the Matchmaker's match. The second marries a communist radical who, while unconventional, is still on the radar screen of orthodoxy. The third, however, marries an Orthodox Russian Catholic soldier in the service of the Czar. The following quote offers up Tevye's reaction to this impossible situation.

 

'"On the other hand, how can I turn my back on my faith, my people? If I try and bend that far, I'll break. On the other hand… No! There is no other hand."' 

"Fiddler in the Roof" (by Sheldon Harnick and Jerry Brock) 

 

Despite the waves of change that sweep through his life, Tevye holds fast and refuses to recognize this marriage. But at the end of the show, the family is packing their lives onto a small cart to be pulled through the mud on their trek that will lead them to the United States. The third daughter and her husband come by to say goodbye with their new child in hand. At that moment, the tidal wave of change finally stranded Tevye on the cold and rocky shoreline of history. Tevye looks in his daughter's direction and offers a slight gesture of acknowledgment for her and her new family. Change can be resisted, but it will triumph in the end. We do well to listen when those winds of change begin to blow. One of the big lessons from our second excursion into full-time living is the need to accommodate change in our lives. Tevye did not break. He, like many in his generation of immigrants, thrived. The road continues to teach me how to be present in moments of change with flexibility. But I must confess that I am a grateful, if reluctant, student.

 

Good travels, my friend. Stay open to the moment!

 

Bob