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!
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!
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