Tuesday, November 23, 2004

The Oregon Trail--Part IX--Lewis and Clark





Saturday
October 16


It was about 6:30am and I was at the Panini, a coffee shop and bakery just a block from the Nye Beach Inn, and was well into a large cuppa joe and a fresh scone while perusing the Oregonian newspaper. There were only about four or five small tables, and locals kept coming in and grabbing a cup of caffiene, chatting a bit with the gal at the counter, and then were off to their day's activity properly drugged and raring to go. I overheard "April's" mentioned and from the conversation realized that the gal on the cappachino machine had been serving meals the night before into the wee hours of the evening at the restaurant where we had dined. She seemed to be doing well, but I surmised that by mid morning she would probably be burning up caffiene at a fairly high rate.

Nancy soon turned up with her journal and ordered her normal double cappachino. We decided that we would do a bit of touring and visit the old waterfront area which was the other interesting part of town, which, in fact probably got most of the summer tourist traffic. Believe it or not, there was an elaborate Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum in the waterfront area which had to be a big draw with the summer crowd. Since it was the off season, and fairly early in the morning, it wasn't open. The building it was in was painted in an off-pink color which seemed garish, and out of place in the middle of an old harbor front filled with fishing boats, sea lions, and seafood restaurants. Some of the old buildings had large murals of dolphins or killer whales painted in large scale on their facades. And, of course, the original Moe's Seafood restaurant was right in the middle of it all. (There is a chain of them along the coast).

There wasn't much activity on the street since it was still before 10 am, but we walked out on a pier to confer with the sea lions below who were very vocal vieing for a good position to catch anything we might toss over the edge. They must have been in a hangover from all the stuff the summer crowd had thrown their way. The poor things would probably have to swim out somewhere into the bay to actually catch some fish on their own to get through the winter months.

There were a couple old fishermen on the pier, and as usual, I walked over to check out what was going on. One of them had an empty bucket, and the other had 3 dungeness crabs in the bottom of his. It was the crab season and I knew that crabbers were out in boats in the bays, but I was surprised to see them being netted right "downtown".

After walking both sides of the street, wondering what was in Ripley's, and checking out the catch at the fish market, we waved goodby to the sea lions, and headed north again on 101.

Today was going to be our longest drive leg up the coast, estimated to be about 5 hours. Just north of Newport was the Heteca Lighthouse, which was a National Historic site managed by the National Park Service. There was beautiful visitor's center and a $5 admission fee. We had to stop and check it out since I was a lighthouse nut. We stopped at the visitor's center and looked at the exhibits, and then headed out to the lighthouse which was located about a 1/4 mile out on a point. It was a cloudy windy day, threatening rain. At the lighthouse there was a tour guide standing outside by a sign indicating that the next tour was in about 10 minutes. Oh boy!! I love guided tours! We walked around the lighthouse and out to an observation deck overlooking the whitecapped ocean below. and then wandered back for the tour. There were about 10-12 other hardy tourists we joined "in line". As we were standing there, I mentioned to the tour guide that it must be a typical "balmy" day along the Oregon coast. He said the only thing missing was a bit of rain, but said that it should start spitting shortly.

He finally led us into the first floor of the lighthouse and started the tour with an introductory "lecture". He said that it was built in 1835, and the original lamp was lit by burning pig fat, which was heated on a stove in a room on the bottom floor and carried in buckets by the keepers and their families up the circular staircase of the 94 ft tall lighthouse 24 hours a day to keep the light always burning. In the late 1800's fuel oil was a big step forward, and then in the 1930's electricity really simplified the maintenance of the light. The lens of the light was built in France and is the original lens. As with most old lighthouses, the guide told a story of a drunken keeper who fell and died and still is seen within the stairwell from time to time! Nancy got a bit claustraphobic going up the stairs and suffered a bit of vertigo going down. I made a donation of $1 and got her a button indicating that she had, however, reached the summit sucessfully. We all got to climb the small steps to the light and stick our head up to see it actually click on and off.

As we exited we walked into some good old Oregon rain, and had to make a run for the parking lot!

We headed north on 101, which stayed two lane and became more rural and as it went inland off the coast. We started seeing more agriculture, especially dairy cows along with the smell that went with them, which was an indication that we were nearing Tillamook, a small city with a large presence in the cheese industry. Tillamook cheese is a major brand marketed nationally, and the cheese "factory" is a major tourist attraction drawing a zillion tourists annually. Even on this off season rainy day the big parking lot was full of cars, and there were hundreds of people touring the cheese making plant, buying cheeses in the huge store, and standing in line for some of the ice cream concoctions at the big ice cream counter. We were going to get an ice cream, but after looking at the length of the line, just shook out heads and went back to the parking lot. It was worth a visit--you know how I like tourist traps. I couldn't imagine what it must have been like in the middle of July! One thing I did learn, was that the Tillamook "factory" is a farmer's cooperative, which presumes that it is owned by the member dairy farmers who supply the endless stream of raw milk which is needed to produce the tons of ice cream and cheddar cheese flowing out the finished product end of the "assembly line".

They had very nice rest rooms!!

We were back on the road, and since it was getting late in the day, Nancy was checking her guidebook for some lodging options in Astoria. She settled on the Grandview B&B, which looked favorably priced and was within walking distance of the downtown area. We called on the cell phone and there was a room at the Inn which we reserved. With that done we could take our time, since I had one more tourist stop to make before we reached the Columbia River. Fort Clatsop was a National Park and had a replica of the winter quarters of the Lewis and Clarke expedition which once existed on the site. We couldn't miss that!! We pulled into the fort just after 4 pm. It was almost getting "dusky". As with most of the good National Park sites, our tax dollars seemed well spent on a very nice visitor's center, where Nancy bought a couple of post cards for Matt, and we looked at the exhibits of the Lewis and Clarke expedition tracing their long trek through the newly acquired "unknown lands to the west". It was still doing an Oregon drizzle so we walked under the umbrella for the 200 yards to the old log "fort" and through the rooms in the "barracks". It seemed to me to be a very small place for an expedition
to hole up for a winter. There was a docent, dressed for the part, giving a lecture on writing materials from that era to a small group in one of the rooms. We stopped for a few minutes in the flickering light and imagined Lewis writing in his daily log by candlelight. I guess it must have been cozy enough! Pacific Northwest winters are not so severe. And the Indians were friendly. What great tourists they were! An adventure to match any other!

As we left the park we saw a fairly large herd of Elk sharing a pasture with some dairy cows. There were two or three big bulls with large racks. I wondered if they ever got confused and became amorous with any of the Guernseys.

We got into Astoria about 5 pm, and drove around a bit looking for the Grandview. It was a big old Victorian up the hill overlooking the town and the Columbia River. We parked in front and went to check in. There was an elderly lady at a desk by the front door talking on the phone, presumably taking reservations. She looked the part of a victorian innkeeper, and soon had us on the way up the stairs with our bags. Our room was pretty frilly for a guy, but it was Ok and the bed was comfortable, so we were set! Everyone else was checking in at about the same time and it looked like a full house. We were glad we had called ahead and reserved a room!

Astoria is probably the oldest settlement in the Pacific Northwest, and perhaps west of the Mississippi. As I remember it was originally a fur trading post and then developed into a large port for lumber and other goods going up and down the river and off to other ports to all points of the compass. It was apparent by the size of some of the homes, that business had been very good at one time, and money had flowed through the port. We walked downtown to check out the restaurants, and see the sights. There were three big ocean going tankers anchored just offshore in the river, and I found later that they were hanging out until a backup of ships could be unloaded in Seattle to open up room for them to dock and deliver their cargo in that port facility. So now Astoria was just a holding tank!

Alot of the old Victorian homes had been renovated or were in the process of renovation, which was a good sign. It seems that tourism was a good part of the economy. Just like us, Hwy 101 fed people into Astoria as a starting point to drive through the scenic area of the Columbia Gorge, or to cross the old bridge to Washington State and on up the coast.

We had dinner in a pretty good touristy restaurant right on the riverbank. I wanted to get a table facing the river, but even at 6 pm, the restaurant was filled with a busload of elderly tourists on a river tour. I was a bit "ornery" about that, so ordered the biggest steak on the menu, which along with some wine, seemed to settle me down a bit. As the bus riders were leaving I asked where they were from, and found them all to be Wisconsinites--and since I knew that Wisconsin had won their football game that day, gave them a hearty "Go Badgers", which seemed to be received favorably!! Hey, when you are old, you need all the encouragement you can get!

After dinner, and since it was early, we stopped at a nice bar and grill, and ordered an after dinner drink. The baseball playoffs were on so we rooted for Boston for awhile and then headed back to the B&B in a slight Oregon drizzle. Our next day would be down the Gorge and would be a day filled with waterfalls.

I drifted off to sleep in our frilly bed to the sound of rain on the Victorian windows.










Friday, November 19, 2004

The Oregon Trail--Part VIII--Bandon






October 15
Friday

I got up at about 6 am. It was still dark when I quietly slipped out the door to look for a morning paper and head over to the coffee house. I walked a couple of blocks looking for a paper stand and found one near a resturant filled with locals obviously having an early breakfast before going off to work. If I had felt like an omelet or heavy breakfast it looked like the place to go. After walking a couple more blocks I was standing at the counter ordering a large coffee at the caffiene cafe. It was a small place with large bags filled with coffee beans stacked on the floor next to a big industrial sized coffee grinder. They must have ground a bag or two earlier in the morning before opening. A deep breath of the aroma was enough to prop my eyes open a bit wider.

There was a group of about 7 people sitting at a couple of tables they had pushed together in the middle of the room, and two or three other solitary drinkers were sipping on their brews at other small tables lining the wall. It was a bigger crowd than I expected at 6:15 in the morning. I found a spot near the larger group, and found myself a bit too near a spirited political conversation about taxes and investments in tax shelters. I thought that a bit strange from guys dressed in jeans and work shirts, but I guessed that they were some of the cranberry farming crowd and were probably loaded( with cranberry $$$, or maybe fermented juice?). Being rural they were probably Bush backers too, so I tried to remain as inconspicuious as possible and just kept my face in my paper. I was relieved when they broke up and left to go back to the bogs.

Nancy came just after 7 am and ordered her customary double cappachino, and we split some kind of breakfast muffin. She wrote secrets in her journal, and I did the crossword and we were ready to pack up and get out of town.

On the way out we decided to drive the "beach loop", just to see some of the rest of town, and so spent 20 minutes driving by some developments of very nice homes along the beach area on the west side of town. There were a few new areas being developed and it appeared that alot of the homes might have been second homes for people who lived inland, in Eugene perhaps. It was a cloudy, blustery day, and I hoped that the summers were sunny and the beach inviting to all those who chose to build near the shore. (Ahh, we are so spoiled in sunny San Diego!)

Just five miles north of Bandon is one of the great new golf resorts of the world, Bandon Dunes! I had thought of making a golf stop there, but decided it was too expensive. Instead, we just made a stop at the resort to see what it was like. People come from all over the world to play the two courses, Bandon Dunes and Pacific Dunes, and they have another course in development which should be completed within a year. It is in a pretty setting along the ocean bluffs/dunes with some of the terrain treed, and a good portion of it open to the ocean "breezes". By mid-morning when we got there, the sun had been trying to peak out through scudding clouds and those golfers with the 10 am tee times were lined up at the clubhouse to hit the links. The courses looked very interesting, with the wind a constant factor in the flight of the ball. Another feature I noted was that there are no golf carts allowed and, in fact, no cart paths anywhere on the courses.

There is a big lodge at the Bandon Dunes course with all the amenities one would normally find at a first class country club. Each course has its own small pro shop and there is a shuttle that transports golfers around the resort. Most of the accommadations are two or three unit condo type buildings scattered throughout the wooded area of the resort. It is a wild and remote setting, which must appeal to the many wealthy golfers who come from all over the world to get away from distractions and just play golf. I think the nearest airport is probably in Eugene, which is about a 1-2 hour drive up the coast to Florence and another hour or so inland.

Since there were no golf carts on either course, most of the golfers took caddies to carry their bags and help them find their way around the course. As we walked up to the proshop, there were a few young caddies hanging loose waiting for their golfers to turn up. That's a sight one doesn't see on the public courses where I play golf!!

We watched a foursome tee off on the first tee. With the four golfers and their caddies it looked like an army as they headed down the fairway!!

Back to 101 and we headed north again. We stopped at a viewpoint overlooking the mouth of the Umpqua river. There were alot of dunes, a long jetty and of course, a lighthouse that still was operational. For some reason, I have a fascination with lighthouses. Perhaps it is because most all of them were built in the 19th century, and, even with all the new technologies like LORAN and especially GPS, many of them are still operational. I used to think that the lights were to keep ships from crashing into the rocks, since most of them were built high on a craggy point. But not so. The series of lights down the coasts of both the Atlantic and Pacific were there for navigation. Each light could be identified by its distinctive flashes, and generally could be seen up to about 20-30 miles at sea . They were spaced to provide a method of determining a ship's exact position along the coast. If a ship could see two lights they could triangulate their exact position on a chart. Umpqua lighthouse still has a compound with housing provided for the Coast Guard contingent assigned to the Umpqua river area.

Florence was next up the road, and Nancy had a quilt shop noted on her itinerary so we made a short stop there. The town of about 7-8000 seemed to be mostly businesses spread along the road, with a major intersection with a highway east to Eugene, although I am sure there are probably some nice residential areas tucked away off 101 somewhere. There was a very good golf course there that I wanted to check out but, since golf was off the agenda due to the weather, I didn't even bother to look for it.

We pulled into Newport in mid afternoon. Nancy had a map in her guidebook and a couple of good ideas for inns or B&Bs. After a few wrong turns we finally found ourselves in the Nye Beach area of town and parked in front of a couple old resort hotels/inns. Our first pick was full, but the second, the Nye Beach Inn, had a rm with a vu, so we unhitched and settled in.

Nye Beach was an old resort area and had a very nice and wide protected beach covered with fine sand. The small business section had beachy boutiques, a good ice cream place, a few resturants, and a pretty good coffee/ expresso joint!! everything that we needed! We walked around and checked it all out, and after reading the menus at a few places decided that April's was the place for dinner. It was just down the street from our Inn. After driving so much, we both loved to find places to stay where we could walk to everything!! I went back to the room to relax and watch a bit of TV with a glass of wine, and Nancy decided she would take a walk out on the beach.

I have an impression that dinner at April's was OK, but I don't remember what I had. After dinner we had an ice cream, and were going to stop at a funky outdoor "nightclub" that had a band, but just walked by and peeked in and headed back to our room. One thing I do remember about April's was that one of the waitresses must not have had much sleep that night. We were done with dinner and in bed by 10 pm, and up and at the coffee house before 7am. The waitress from April's was running the counter and making cappachino's before we got there.
I hope she got a nap sometime before her evening shift!

Our next day would put us at the mouth of the Columbia River in Astoria.


Tuesday, November 16, 2004

The Oregon Trail--Part VII--The Oregon Coast




Thursday
October 14

It was an exciting day, our first actual day in Oregon! As usual I was up with the sun and had the coffee brewing and almost ready when Nancy got up. We ate the rest of everything we had in the cooler for breakfast, did the dishes, took the tent down, and packed up the car. We were on our way out of the park at about 9 am. And to tell the truth, after three nights in a tent, I was ready for a TV and at least a queen size bed again.

We headed north on 101. The scenery was about the same, mountains and lots of trees, with a bridge over a river now and then. There is not much else between Arcata and the Oregon border. Oh Ya! There is one last tourist stop a few miles north! We had to stop there because there were giant statues of Paul Bunyan and his Blue Ox Babe. I always thought that Bemidji, Minnesota was the official home of Paul and his Ox. My dad took me fishing in that area when I was a small child and we stopped to see them. I bet they were in Bemidji first! Anyway, The California editions were beautiful statues. They were part of the wonder at the "Trees of Mystery" which included a very nice large gift shop, rest room facilities, and a tour of the "Trees of Mystery" which was a hike among some very interesting redwoods, and which also included a short "chairlift" ride in the more steeper part of the trail. We didn't take the hike because we didn't think we had the extra time, plus as "natives" we had seen our share of redwoods. We did stop at the gift shop, strolled through their museum of indian "artifacts" and art objects for sale, bought Matt a couple of post cards, and used the rest rooms. I also asked a gal in the shop how Paul and his Ox had gotten all the way out here from Minnesota. It was apparent that she was no expert on Paul. She thought he had probably walked out to California after he cut down all the trees in Minnesota and was looking for something bigger for his axe. I thought she had a point! I love tourist traps, and the "Trees of Mystery" is one not to be missed. Next time I will take the hike!

We were again on our way and it wasn't long before we saw a sign which said "Welcome to Oregon". I noticed immediate differences as we passed the border. Hwy 101 became a two lane road and pretty much stayed that way except for passing lanes on some hills. There was a sign with a picture of a seat belt placed along Oregon's hwys which said, "Click it up or tick et up!". Price signs at gas stations indicated that gas was much less expensive. My last fill up in California had been 2.59/gal, and the first station I saw in Oregon was 2.05/gal. Wow! All due to taxes and differences in emmisions requirements. Also, it was against the law to pump your own gas in Oregon, so there was always an attendant to do it for you. Now that seemed a bit behind the times, since California has been all self serve for a long time!! The topper was that Oregon has no sales tax. It took a bit of time to get used to! When something was priced at $10, it was just $10, and not $10.75 as it would have been back in San Diego! That was cool!!

Hwy 101 turned back to the coast as we entered Oregon and the ocean was again in sight far below as the hwy wound around the bluffs along the coast. A few miles past the border we stopped at a tourist trap which had some "Seal Caves". There was a nice gift shop. Admission to the caves far below was 10-12 dollars, and there was an elevator to take you down. But the attendant said the seals were not there at the moment. We see alot of seals in San Diego, so we bought a couple of post cards and jumped back in the car.

A few miles more and there was a scenic overview that looked interesting so I whipped across the hwy to the parking area. There was a short pathway down to an overlook and a great view of a couple of large natural stone bridges over a small inlet with a blowhole which shot water up in the air 10-20 ft with each surge of the waves. The Natural Bridges was a great stop!!

We stopped for lunch at Coos Bay. It is the largest city on the southern Oregon Coast, and in the late 19th and early 20th Century was a busy port due to the lumber industry. At that time there were not any roads or railroads leading to the outside in that part of the state due to the rugged terrain. So everything came up and down rivers to Coos Bay and out to San Francisco to the South and as far as Portland and Seattle to the North. It still has some port facilities, but with roads and railroads it is not so active. It did have a quilt store however. And it still has a large lumber mill on the south end of the bay.

We walked around a bit in the old downtown, and stopped at a friendly cafe which had a number of soup and sandwich combos for lunch. The menu and the decor had an "African" theme, which I thought was very odd for a place like Coos Bay. The menu was strictly American deli, but had sandwiches with names drawn from African themes. (B'wana's favorite wild pastrami on rye?) There was African art even hanging on the walls! I talked to the waitress a bit (between her hot flashes? She had to take off her sweater!) and it turned out that the owner was from South Africa, had immigrated, and ended up in Coos Bay running a deli cafe. She was in the kitchen cooking!!(Making Water Buffulo Stew no doubt!)

After lunch, I left Nancy at the quilt shop and headed off to walk around town a bit. I found a couple antique shops to walk through. It is interesting how antiques sometimes reflect the area they are in. One of the shops was filled with nautical stuff as well as old ship building tools which probably were collected in the Coos Bay area.

I went back to pick Nancy up, but she was not at the shop. I walked through and knew why. It was a walk in and walk out! Nothing interesting there for her! So I sat on a bench on the corner and 15 minutes later she turned up. She had found a nice crafts and art gallery and had spent some time talking with the owner--and of course had bought a little something as well.

We headed north towards Bandon. Most of the area was rural, and it was interesting to note that there were shops here and there along the road selling things carved and made out off Myrtle wood, which seemed to be the local "special" tourist staple, and that the area's main agricultural product were cranberry's grown in bogs somewhere out there off the hwy!

We were soon in Bandon and drove through the business district until we reached the "Olde" touristy part of town, which was by the marina. It had many renovated buildings with cafes, galleries, and gift shops catering to "people like us"(tourists)! Nancy's guide book provided some direction regarding places to stay, and as we drove the waterfront we espied the Sea Star Inn, which her guide book described as part "hostel" and part "hotel". It looked like our kind of place--and we got a room overlooking the marina that had a queen size bed with cable TV, and a bathroom with a shower. Perfect!

We settled in and went for a walk. The weather had changed and had become more "brisk". It was Oregon weather and just to Nancy's liking.

We went exploring and here was a quilt store a block away! Nancy walked in and out of this one too! We walked into a boutique and I struck up a conversation with the slightly elderly shopkeeper. She had lived in encinitas years ago and had owned a shop in Luecadia which her son now had as his business. Nancy knew the shop and thought she knew her son!! Small world! I told her we would say hello to him when we got home. I wonder if we will remember. We checked out the two or three resturants in the area and decided to make reservations at a small French oriented cafe where they brewed their own beer and ale. Down the street just behind our inn we found the best coffee place in town. They opened at 6 am and ground their own beans daily! So we were set for the morning. We bought a cheap bottle of wine and went back to the room to have "cocktails" while we dressed for dinner. The dinner was pretty good and the beer was fair, but then it was hard to compete with Nancy's gourmet camp dinners.

The bed was real comfortable compared to my air mattress! As usual, I fell asleep while Nancy was still watching TV.

Friday, November 12, 2004

The Oregon Trail--Part VI--A Day in Arcata




October 13, 2004
Wednesday

The trick in making an air mattress comfortable and stable is not to fill it up with so much air, so it will conform to the body's contours a bit. Then, instead of trying to balance on top of it, you can sink into it. Just make sure there is enough air to keep you off the ground. It had been to long since I had been camping. But it seemed that I had adjusted, since the second night was more comfortable and I slept more, even though I made my customary late night hike to the loo. The weather was still summerlike when I woke in the morning, and with the same routine, started the stove and the coffee pot going. Nancy was soon up and the frying pan was again a'sizzling.

Today was our day to spend roaming around Arcata and the vicinity. If we had time we would get to a beach for a couple of hours so I could check out the surf for fish.

By around 9:30 am we were ready to head off on our adventures for the day. We stopped at the Post office in Trinidad to mail Matt some postcards, and then headed towards Arcata. Nancy also wanted to check out the small town of McKinleyville which was just north of Arcata and on our way from Trinidad, so we took the exit off 101 when it came up. She said there was a quilt store there. I thought that McKinleyville would be a bump in the road, but as we approached it was apparent that there was alot going on with newer shopping centers and housing construction all along the road. It seemed to be a pretty busy place, with a fairly sizeable high school, and alot of businesses along the main drag! Nancy didn't know where the Quilt shop was, but it seemed to be a place where we did not want to stop, so we just drove through and back on 101 into Arcata.

Arcata is a college town. Humbolt State University is located there and has a very positive cultural impact on a town which is not much bigger in population that the student body of the school. Because of its location, the University has excellent cirriculums in Forestry Management and in Marine Biology as specialty areas of study. Nancy likes college towns and it was on her list of possible retirement communities.

We stopped in the middle of town and parked at the central square. The square was a full city block, around which all the old business section of the town had been originally built. Many of the early buildings had been renovated and restored and were still in use. The biggest building was an old hotel, which had been restored and still entertaned guests. In the center of the square was a suitably handsome statute of President William McKinley, in a presidential pose high upon a pedestal, blessing all within his view. It was commissioned by a weathy resident who had met him in 1901 and admired him as the "first modern President". In 1905 he commissioned a San Francisco artist to produce the statue for the kingly sum of $15000. Unfortunately The statue was almost lost in the great 1906 earthquake, but was rescued from the foundry by some passersby just before the foundry burned to the ground. It was shipped to Eureka in May of 1906, trucked to Arcata and installed in the square on July 4, 1906 with over 2000 visitors in attendance. Humbolt State campus is walking distance to the Square, and the statue is a rallying point for all the Humbolt State University students to stage protests against the latest "injustice de jour".

Just off the square was a quilt fabric shop! While Nancy spent her time sorting through all the colors, I walked around town a bit, hit the bank's ATM for some cash, and spent time sitting on a bench in the square having a silent conversation with President "Bill".

I went back to pick up Nancy, took some pictures of her and the Quilt Girls and we were off to explore the town and area a bit. I wanted to check out the golf courses and she wanted to check out the University. We drove through the south part of town where the "country club" was located. It was a nice area with lots of trees. The country club had been built as a draw by the developer. I stopped and got the material for membership. It seemed expensive for what it was. I was not impressed. We headed over to the University. It was just on the North side of 101 just a few blocks from the downtown area. There was a pedestrian bridge over Hwy 101 so students could walk from the school to the downtown area in safety, plus it probably helped the merchants alot with student business. The University was built on a wooded hillside. There were not alot of roads we could take to drive around the campus much, and after 10 minutes of making u-turns at the end of a number of cul de sacs we decided we had seen enough and headed north towards Trinidad again. There was another public course north of town, and of course, I had to stop there to check it out. It was short, under 6000 yards, and wasn't very appealing, althogh it was getting good play for early afternoon. All in all, the golf experiece potential in the area left alot to be desired.

Nancy wasn't giving up on McKinleyville, and we took another road into town past the small airport, but it was to no avail. The lost quilt shop did not appear and we ended up at the same busy shopping center.

I had stopped earlier at a local fishing bait shop in Trinidad and bought some shrimp for bait, and got a recommendation for a beach to try up north of where we were camped, so we decided to head for the surf. It was a pretty drive, and about 7-8 miles on 101 north of Pete's Point State Park (where we were camped) there was the sign pointing to a small county park with great access to a broad beach of black sand, obviously washed down rivers from volcanic sources like Mt. Shasta far inland.

The road into the park was about 1/2 mile long, and on the way we saw a small herd of Roosevelt Elk sharing a pasture with two horses. There were two big males with very large racks, so we stopped and looked through the binoculars for a few minutes. (It was a big day for presidents--both McKinley and Roosevelt left impressions all in one day!)

While it was a balmy day for the area, the wind was still brisk off the ocean. It was jacket weather out on the beach. We hauled our beach chairs and my fishing equipment a ways down the beach to a likely spot and set up shop. The beach dropped into the surf quite abruptly, and the waves hitting the beach were heavy and looked angry. It did not look like a friendly beach where one could wade into the surf without taking the chance of being dragged out to sea. It was very different than the shallow beaches of Southern California where one can usually wade out 20 ft or so into the surf to fish. So I stayed on the beach, and heaved my line as best I could into the stiff breeze. It didn't get out into the surf very far, but sometimes surf perch are right in close to shore. I kept losing bait even though I tied it on the hook. On occassion I thought perhaps I lost it to a "strike", but maybe that was just the optimism one must have to "go fishin". More likely, the surf just sucked it off!

Nancy thought the beach was beautiful and took off on a long walk to the north. An hour went by, with me baiting up and fighting the surf, and I was tapped out for the day. Surf fishing in the north is a tougher proposition than in the gentle climes of the south. We packed up, took a look at the the two big bull elk on the way out, and headed back to camp.

Most of the California State Parks have loos with showers and hot water. They are coin operated and a nice long shower with hot water can be had for about 50 cents. Both of us were ready for that and headed for the shower when we got back to camp. Who was it that said "You should change underwear at least twice a week!". We came out feeling all fresh with clean undies and were ready for another of Nancy's gourmet camp dinners, and of course, a couple glasses of wine to mellow us out in the woods. This was our last day in California, and in the morning we would again head north towards Bandon and our first day on the Oregon coast.

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

The Oregon Trail--Part V--Trinidad & Ferndale






October 12, 2004
Tuesday

I was awake early. I never did get completely comfortable on the air mattress, which seemed a bit small for me. I kept rolling off the edge of it and it was hard to get the sleeping bag properly situated. So as it became a bit light outside, I rolled out and got dressed, grabbed my toilet kit and headed off to the loo. No one else in the campground seemed to be up as of yet. The Sun was not yet above the horizon, or at least was still far below the crests of the mountains to the east, so the light was grey and not very inviting to early risers I guess. I finished shaving in cold water and headed back to our campsite. It was my early morning job to get the Coleman stove going and start a pot of coffee perking. Once the blurp" of the perculator started and the smell of coffee started towards the tent, I heard Nancy making wakeful noises, and soon her head popped out of the tent looking for some caffiene. I got all the breakfast goodies and cooking stuff out of the trunk, and as soon as Nancy had a shot of caffiene, she had bacon and eggs going in a frying pan. I was reviewing all the information about the area from the brouchures we picked up at the visiter's center so we could set our itinerary for the day.

We needed to do laundry. We had noticed a laundramat in Trinidad, so after breakfast that's where we headed. There was a great little quilt store in Trinidad as well. How handy!! Tinidad was a very small village of maybe 200 people tops, but Nancy thought the quilt store there was very nice. She measures quilt stores not by their size, but by the creativity of the owners, and their selection of fabrics in their inventory. There were a few stores that she just walked in and out of on our trip. This one got her attention, however, and she spent some time there picking out some fabrics for her "collection", and talking with the owner and other quilters looking for the "right stuff". I overheard a scandinavian accent from one of the women, and thought to myself that quilter's sure will go a long way for the "right stuff"!

While she was was doing her thing, I had time to wander down the block to take some pictures of the "replica" of the Trinidad lighthouse light and a small memorial to those who had lost their lives at sea off the Trinidad coast. The real light was still in operation out on the point, but was not accessable by the public. It was a clear sunny day and the view down the coast towards Arcata and Eureka was a blue sparkle accented by white surf rolling against blackish sand beaches.

Across the street there was an old cottage with a sign on it that said "Gallery". There was a tall, lanky man with a pork pie hat covering his longish white hair doing gardening in the front yard. He paused in his weeding and greeted me as I approached the white picket gate. I chatted with him and found out a bit about Trinidad, most notably that it was at the same laditude as Chicago, but that the Trinidad weather was much more agreeable. He said he had been to Alaska, Africa, and all over the West, and Trinidad was just the best place to be. As I wandered through the rooms of the cottage, I noticed that the back rooms were living quarters and the front three rooms were the "Gallery". The art portrayed wild animals of the western states, with a few from Africa. They were all in oil, and most were simply framed. It was apparent from my earlier conversation with him that the artist was out front weeding. His signature was on all of the canvases. Prices ranged from around $100 up to about $1000 for the largest effort. They were not really good, but seemed fairly priced for their quality. I think he liked his home and business in this little village and I wondered whether he still painted, ever sold anything, or was content to weed his garden and have a chat now and then with a guy waiting for his "quilter" to finish shopping across the street! I bid him a good day and walked back across the street to check on Nancy's progress. She was almost done, and I took a picture of her with the store owner, and another in front of the store, and we headed south on 101.

Today was a touring day, and from the small village of Trinidad, we decided to visit the small victorian village of Ferndale. Ferndale was about 20 minutes south of Eureka and 5 miles east of 101 in a valley mostly noted for dairy farms and cheese. As a town it was a nationally designated landmark because of the restoration effort that had been made to preserve all of the victorian buildings on the 2-3 blocks of the main street, as well as a couple beautiful old churches and homes scattered throughout the few streets in town. Because of that, it got a pretty good flow of tourists off 101 in the summer, had a little seasonal theater, an old fairgrounds out by the High School, a couple of restored Victorian B&Bs, and of course a cute quilt store and knit store!!

It was the off season, so the town was quiet. I was the only one walking around with a camera hanging over my shoulder, or standing in the middle of main street taking pictures. The first thing we did was find the best coffee place so Nancy could get a double cappachino. The perked coffee made on the coleman stove that morning proved not to be an adequate dose of caffiene to last her the day! We walked the two or three blocks of the main street, and came to the quilt store, where Nancy decided to browse. The store was located in a building which was shared by a gallery with art and jewelry, a specialty knit store, an artist who made some interesting craft art, and an artist's exhibit/museum of funky vehicles which had been made for an annual well known "race" from Arcata to Eureka. After walking through the shops, I sat on a bench in the foyer to wait for Nancy. All the women who were manning the shop counters were in a lunch mode and had ordered pizza together. There was a common table just outside the quilt store in the foyer which was the center of the pizza eating and yakking activity. They all could sit there and yet keep an eye on anyone who came in to their shops. One of the gals had brought in a new litter of puppies who were part this and that, and was making an effort to find them all a home. She said she was giving the mother a break. They couldn't have been more that a few days old, and, of course, were very cute and got carried around and cooed over alot by everyone who dropped in. (Who knows what they will grow up to be!) It was a pretty comfortable place to be!

Nancy finished both shops and we headed back to the car. We drove some of the streets around town, and I was reminded of the small Minnesota farm community where I grew up, Bricelyn, Minn., Pop. 600! Four or five blocks in any direction from the center of town, and you were out in a field!

We headed back towards Eureka and decided to stop and walk around the old historic section of the town, which had been admirably restored. We stopped at the Maritime Museum near the bay, made a suggested donation, and found out all about the logging operations which made Eureka the major port of Northern California in the late 1800's and early 1900's. The museum was in a early 20th century building with old wooden floors. There was an elderly gentleman in charge of the guest book who I thought might have been old enough to be considered one of the museum exhibits himself! Following a walking tour around a few blocks we needed a treat! We looked for an ice cream shop without luck, so finally had to stop and ask a local who directed us back to a shop which we had passed earlier, that had an ice cream "bar" that wasn't apparent from the outside. They had good stuff, and Nancy's other favorite craving was satisfied for the day.

We decided to head back to camp with a stop in Arcata for goodies for a camp dinner that night, and hoped to get back to camp in time for a short hike along the bluff to watch the sun go down and sssssst off into the Pacific. We arrived in camp a bit late but started off on our hike. We walked on the path just south of the campground and came to a small clearing on the edge overlooking the ocean and the sunset. Another couple about our age were all settled in their reclining camp chairs, sipping wine, munching snacks, and enjoying the spectacle when we got there. We chatted a bit until the last of the Sun disappeared and headed back to camp to cook while there was still some light. Another of Nancy's gourmet camp meals, a walk around the campground in the dark looking at the stars so bright in the darkness, and I was ready to try my luck with the air mattress for another night!

Tomorrow I hoped to have a a couple of hours to do some surf fishing somewhere along the coast!


Friday, November 05, 2004

The Oregon Trail--Part IV--Ft. Bragg to Arcata



October 11, 2004

Breakfast at the Rhondevous B&B was not served until 9am. I guess the chef had to recover from cooking the very expensive meal from the night before. Usually we were on the road by 9 am, but breakfast was included with the room, and we expected the chef to do something nice, so we were going to hang around to see what it would be. However, we were up by 7 am and could not wait for caffiene. We had all ready checked out the best coffee house in town the afternoon of our arrival, so we headed over there for Nancy's double cappachino and my coffee with the morning newspaper. While everthing else in town was still in hibernation status, the coffee house was jumping. There were cars and pickups parked on both side of the small street, and we had to park around the corner and walk a half a block. There was a line of 2 customers at the order counter (long for Ft Bragg), and the tables were all full of early risers slurping caffienne and eating a variety of muffins and other baked goods, before they set out to open up the rest of the town. We ended up sitting at the "bar" counter at the front window. I went towards the back of the room to look for a "used" paper that someone had read and left for a cheapskate like me, and wasn't having much luck. As I passed by a reader peering at his sport page, he looked up and said, "I'm not going to read the rest of this, do you want it?" Wow! Small town friendliness!! I even got the sport page later when he was done with it!!

We headed back towards our upcoming breakfast with the idea that we would get all packed up, pay our bill, and be ready to eat and then run out to see a few things around the town before heading north to Arcata. Our expensive waiter from the the night before, had told us that his significant other owned the local quilt and fabric store, and Nancy had told him that she would visit it before we left. So that was one stop that we had to make.

Ft. Bragg's big claim to fame was the "Skunk Train", an old line that ran from Ft. Bragg easterly through the forest for about 30 miles on the same "scenic" route we had weaved in on. It was originally a line built to haul logs and lumber to the coast for shipping out of Ft Bragg south to San Francisco, and north to Eureka. One of the old Steam Engines was still on line and pulled old restored passenger cars round trip twice daily during the summer. So, we had to at least check out the schedule for the train while we we there. (Arcata was only 2-3 hours so we had time).

Breakfast turned out to be a fancy "fritata" with spinich and bacon, home made muffins, and coffee and Orange juice. It was OK but not that "memorable". There we only four of us eating breakfast, so I suppose the chef didn't feel that he had to impress!

We packed up the car, said goodbye to the chef (and his cat), and headed for the quilt store. Nancy found that the significant other was expecting her to turn up and would probably have been disappointed if she had not dropped in, bought a couple of pieces, and brought news from the big city far to the south. While Nancy was doing that I wandered through a couple of antique stores looking at prices, and, of course seeing if I could find a treasure that was priced too cheap!! Unfortunately, most people who own antique stores know more about it than I do, and I have yet to find something desireable that is miss-priced in my favor!

We headed over to check out the train, and found that the steam engine ran only in the summer, and there was only one train ride a day in the off season. It was pulled by a diesel engine. That ride would not be memorable. We looked through the small train museum, and then decided that there was nothing left in Ft Bragg to keep us from heading north again, so we were off!

We were soon back on Hwy 101 cruising towards Eureka. Just south of Eureka was the turnoff to Ferndale, a small village that has taken great pains to preserve and restore its Victorian main street, and because of that gets a pretty good flow of tourists in the summer. It was on our itinerary while we were in the area, and we thought we would get back to it. Eureka is an old logging port on a large shallow bay. It is the largest city in the northern part of California with a population of 60-70000 people. It is also the center of commercial activity for the area, so as we entered the city, 101 became cluttered with signs, motels, fast food joints, and businesses of all types from construction to sports bars. We didn't stop, but did take a turn around the restored historic area of downtown, and decided it would be worthwhile to come back and spend a bit of time there if we had the time.

We had decided we were going to camp out for a couple of days, but had not yet decided where. Just outside Arcata there was a sign for a visitors center, so we pulled in for advice. Pete's Point State Park was highly recommended by the visitor's center staff. It was about 5 miles north of Trinidad (about 15 minutes north of Arcata). It was on a bluff high above the ocean with lots of trees. We went into Arcata to stock up the cooler for goodies for dinner, breakfast and snacks! And , of course, some vino for "happy hour" in the woods!! Nancy knew right where to shop. It was in her guidebook!!

We headed for camp and pulled in about 4 pm. The Sun was still bright and the weather was unusually warm for the season--great camping weather!!

Since it was off season there were alot of open camp spaces, and as usual when we go camping, we had to drive around the camp three times before we picked what we thought to be the "best" spot to pitch out tent. (it had to be level, quiet, and not to far from the "loo".)

So we unloaded, set up the tent, and went into campout mode. We needed wood for a fire, so I headed out to the camp visitor center to buy a couple of bundles. I got there at 5:07--and it was closed (5:00 pm--bummer!) We needed wood! So I drove the 5 miles to Trinidad to get some. When I got back to camp, Nancy found that she did not have any butter, which was an essential ingrediant for the dinner she was preparing. Back to Trinidad for butter. I guess we should have picked a camp closer to a "store". Nancy is a great camp cook, however, and we had some really good foil dinners cooked over the fire.

The State Park campground was on a beautiful site. We walked a bit on the bluff trail and watched the sun sink into the ocean.

We decided to camp for three nights since the weather was so good. Nancy had a long itinerary planned for the area, including a couple of quilt shops, a drive to Ferndale, checking out Humbolt State University in Arcata, and driving through the McKinleyville area just outside of Arcata.

I woke up in the middle of the night to walk to the "loo" and heard sea lions barking at each other on the rocks far below the camp. It sure beat waking to the ever present russssssh of freeway noise in southern California.

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

The Oregon Trail--Part III--Healdsburg & Ft. Bragg


October 10, 2004

It was Sunday morning about 6 am when I popped out of bed. It was still dark and the apartment was quiet. I dressed and slipped out and headed over to the Coffeetopia for some caffeine and the morning paper, expecting Nancy to join me in about an hour. We had decided to head north to Ft. Bragg at about nine, so we had time to luxuriate over breakfast a bit. We figured that it would be a 4 to 5 hour drive, since our route would take us on 101 through San Francisco and across the Golden Gate Bridge, through the Napa and Sonoma wine producing areas and into Mendocino County where we would cut over west and be back to the beach.

Nancy turned up a bit earlier than I thought she would, and by eight thirty we were all packed and ready to go--so we got an early start. It turned into a sunny day, and since it was Sunday, the traffic was light and it didn't take long to cruise past San Jose and hit the outskirts of San Francisco. The 101 route through San Francisco joins old route 1 on the west side near the beach. Sunday morning traffic was leisure bound, and heaviest around Golden Gate Park near the Haight district. We passed through the canopy of leaves in Presidio Park and found ourselves on the Golden Gate Bridge, which on this bright day provided a panorama of sails in the Bay, great views of Alcatraz and Angel Islands, each with a wisp of fog hanging over them , and the skyline of the City. In the distant background was the Bay Bridge, which was like an echo of the Golden Gate, and connected the City to the rest of the world to the east.

The Golden Gate Bridge on Sundays becomes a park, with bicyclists in their tight shorts and bright shirts pedaling across the west side pathway to Sausalito and back, and hikers and joggers on the east pedestrian walkway, weaving through tourists who had the time to park at the Presidio and walk out on the Bridge a ways to take pictures of it all.

We drove past Mill Valley, San Rafael, Novato, Petaluma, and hills covered with manicured vines, barren of grapes, but with leaves turned yellow from the autumn frosts, and finally past Santa Rosa to a stop in Healdsburg for gas and Sunday "brunch"!

Healdsburg is the center of the Sonoma wine region , and while a small town of a few thousand people, it reflects the richness of the area, and caters to the wine lovers who come to tour the many wineries in the area. Once sated with the grape, the wine enthusiasts spend lots of money in one or more of the many art galleries, upscale boutiques and shops, or the many fine restaurants located in the quaint downtown area.

A small square in the middle of the downtown business district, with trees, benches, and grass provided space for R&R. It was early Sunday afternoon and the local knitting store was sponsering a "knit out" right in the park, with a dozen or so knitters busily clicking needles together making scarves, socks or perhaps something more complicated, like a sweater. Nancy was excited to see that group and spent some time talking to the "leader" of the pack, who was sitting at a small table with a "troubleshooter" sign on it . Nancy got direction to the local kitting and fabric shop, and of course spent some time sorting through and picking out something to carry away in a bag, while I hung around outside watching the rhythm of the street. A young guy and his girl friend drove up and parked a completely refurbished 1959 2-door Chevrolet hardtop right in front of me, left it unlocked with the windows down and went off somewhere. It was that kind of town!

We had brunch of eggs and pancakes and toast at a very family oriented restaurant across from the park. Lots of kids, carbs, and more coffee! And we were off northward up 101!

Another 60 miles or so, past Ukiah, we exited 101 to take Rte 20 to Ft Bragg. It was designated a "scenic" route, which I soon decided meant, "a very curvy road up and down and around mountains surrounded by trees." It was 36 miles to Ft Bragg on this road, which basically was a series of "S" turns winding through the coastal range. It was "scenic" however!

We got into Ft Bragg about 4 pm. It was "dead" on Sunday afternoon. We had a couple recommendations for B&Bs from Nancy's guide books, and found an old, slightly beat up, but very large "Rendevous Inn B&B" right at the end of the main street (Old Rte 1). We were ready to park so we swung in the back lot. The owner's cat greeted us at the back door, and reminded Nancy that she all ready missed her cat, Hallie! So this cat got the benefit of her attention before we went in to check out the place. Since it was past the tourist season, there was a room at the inn.

The owner of the Inn was a chef that had been trained in France, and had cooked at some very nice restaurants here and there. He and his wife had bought the Inn as a "project" a few years ago, and had opened a restraurant in the Inn which was well known in the area. It seemed to me that the Inn still had a lot of "project" left in it, and I wondered about the restaurant! But it was getting late, we were newly arrived, nor did we know where to go for dinner that night. Looking at the menu, it looked interesting, but surprisingly expensive!! I hoped that the owner was much better in the kitchen than he was at working on the "project" Inn, which, while an interesting house, was still pretty threadworn in most rooms.

Ah well, we were on vacation!! So we decided to splurge and dine downstairs. The meal was very good, the wine was nice, and the service was ok. But for a small town the meal with wine and tip had a big town price, $125!! We decided that if the weather was good, we would try to camp out for the next couple of nights, and eat out in nature!!

Monday, November 01, 2004

The Oregon Trail--Part II--Santa Cruz

October 8, 2004

It was 4:15 am on Friday when the alarm went off reminding us that we were on vacation, and demanding that we start having fun! Our first day of fun would be a 7 hour drive to Santa Cruz, interupted by a stop in about 3 hrs at Santa Barbara to get Nancy a double cappachino at the Santa Barbara Brewing company, and then a big plate of carbs at Esau's cafe just across the way on south State St. That was our routine whenever we drove 101 north. It was built into the timetable!!

I drove. It was familiar. Early morning traffic allowed a smooth drive up the I-5 and the I-405 through the heart of L.A. before the rush to work would clog the freeways with the 7 to 9 commuter crowd. The weather was nice, but with a fog bank off the coast north of L.A. reaching up towards Santa Barbara, shrouding the line of oil rigs from north of Zuma up towards the Channel Islands. As we drove 101 past Oxnard and the Sun cleared the Santa Monica mountains it pushed the fog bank further west, and the oil rigs emerged from the sea like giant alien structures far offshore.

Besides our Santa Barbara stop, there was one more stop for gas, and we rolled into Santa Cruz in the early afternoon. Sara and her two roommates, rent an apartment a couple of blocks from the beach in Capitola on the east side of town. One of her roomies was home--so we settled in, and went out for a walk to the beach. Surf was up and there were a bunch of surfers trying to share waves. (I'm told that Santa Cruz was where the modern wetsuit was "invented", primarily for surfers to use in the colder water of Santa Cruz winter season.

We love Santa Cruz and planned on taking Sara's bed away from her for two nights! She is always willing to sleep on the couch. We bribe her by taking her out to dinner and shopping while we are there.

While Sara and Nancy went shopping downtown, I went fishing off the pier in Capitola for a couple hours--didn't catch anything but a bit of sun and some local color. I didn't see anyone else catch anything either. I think people fish there just to get outside, watch the gulls, and the sea lions.

Sara and her roommates had a color TV which was very inadequate. They did have cable, but the TV was only a 12" and didn't have a remote. So to change the channel one had to get up and go turn the knob. It was like living in the dark ages of TV dom. Not only that, I couldn't read any of the scores because the screen was so small. I promised them that on our return trip I was going to buy a new TV first thing so I wouldn't miss the World series and football games scheduled in two weeks. I considered that part of the bribe for welcoming us back there on our return. While I was there I also fixed Sara's bedroom lamp with a new plug and switch, and glued and refastened the trim that was loose on her Volvo. I also replaced a bulb in their outdoor light. It is nice to have a man around the house!!!

Oh yes, there was a good coffee house called Coffeetopia within walking distance that opened at 6 am, so I could get up early and drive over and read the paper. And Nancy could walk over later for her double Cappachino. Between the surf just a couple blocks in one direction and the coffeehouse in the other, Sara's apartment was all together a great place to spend the first couple of days of our trek to the Oregon Trail!

We planned to get an early start on Sunday morning with a double cappachino to go, and a goal of reaching Ft. Bragg on the Medocino Coast by mid afternoon.