I left San Diego a little before eight on Saturday morning. The drive up was uneventful. I used to psych myself into enjoying the drive, Steinbeck's California unfolding before my eyes or something, but it really is dull scenery. The odors are interesting, but ultimately unpleasant. My hatred of SUVs was reinforced by many incidents on the trip. Left lane is the slow lane, right lane is the passing lane, get it through your thick Saudi-enriching heads. I think if they are going to be classified as light trucks and exempt from fuel efficency rules, then they should have to follow all the rules of trucks, and be limited to the same lanes the semis are limited to. I did have some good music for the drive, dominated by Randy Newman, Bad Love and Sail Away. I also listened to a Dusty Springfield collection I inherited from my father, consisting of Stay Awhile--I Only Want to Be With You and Dusty. It pre-dates "Son of a Preacher Man," but is excellent nonetheless, with Burt Bacharach well-represented. I also listened to the White Stripes' "Elephant." Have you seen the video of his finger surgery? It was on their web page, but I can't find it now. Oh, well. I took a few stops along the way, including one at the Water Information Center I'm always seeing a sign for. It was interesting, and didn't take too much time.
I made fairly good time, arriving in San Jose around four. Eric was at a bachelor party, so it was mostly me and Michelle. Her old roomate Amy was playing with her kid in Michelle's pool. It was a nice pool, for an above-ground type. The previous owner had used it for dog rehabilitation. It was my first time seeing the house, and also my first time seeing the dogs, Ebbi and Scout, a Corgi and Beagle, respectively. Ebbi was alright, but kind of a weird shape for my taste. Scout was adorable, though. He made Tanner seem morbidly obese. Very friendly dog. I loved them both. Mom seems to think the dogs have horribly under-priviledged lives compared to Tanner, but really they just have normal dog lives. Though they're forced to do that whole "training" thing. I agree with Bart Simpson: I don't wanna teach and Tanner don't wanna learn. Michelle and I had sushi at a place Michelle likes, and I concurred was quite good. The eel wasn't gritty in the least. Then we hung around her house, watched a "Weird Al" Yankovich concert video, and Michelle told me about Kevin from high school's involvement in some "Unsolved Mysteries" story about a dead body found in a trunk some ten years ago.
Their guest room out back was being occupied, so I got the guest bedroom of the main house, which consists of Michelle's childhood bed, and is about as comfortable as you might imagine. Actually, not uncomfortable, just makes noise every time you move. Their house is old, and the bathtub is as one might expect, but actually functions well, and is more charming than annoying. I can't remember when I last used a free-standing tub. I would really appreciate it after trying to take a shower in my Eureka hotel room.
Sunday we took the dogs to their favorite dog park. They had a lot of fun, got in a lot of mud. Not as bad as a labrador that was rolling around in it like a pig, but bad enough that they needed baths when they got home. Ebbi was a little difficult, but it was Scout who really gave 'em hell. Afterwards, we got in the pool until it was time for lunch. Eric barbequed some chicken fajita stuff he got from a local Mexican grocery. Quite excellent. Some version of said meat has been turning up here, from Henry's, I think, at barbeques I have attended last summer, but can't compete with the real thing. Of course, San Diego has plenty of Mexican markets of its own, but I wouldn't know which ones were good. And don't barbeque much. In fact, I barely cook anymore. After lunch we sat around for awhile, then Michelle and I went at it on the playstation, with Super Puzzle Fighter II Turbo. She won the vast majority, but as she had much more practice than I, I though my three wins out of twenty or so matches was not too shameful.
Around 5:30, it was time to leave for the Randy Newman concert. I will post my comments from the RandyGroup in a separate post. Suffice it to say, it was an enjoyable evening.
The next day, I had thought I would leave early, but Michelle and Eric suggested I not hurry up just to wait in San Francisco traffic. So I took a leisurely pace through the morning, and left around ten. Traffic was not bad at all. I hadn't been to San Francisco in a long time. Enjoyed seeing and crossing the Golden Gate Bridge. Would have liked to stay longer, seen Presidio Park and other things I remember from childhood visits. But I did see the bridge and Alcatraz, and stood roughly where Jimmy Stewart pulled Kim Novak out of the water in Vertigo, so that was nice. The drive north was much more interesting than the drive to San Jose, and I made several stops and saw quite a few sights. Even before I really got into the heart of redwood country, despite finding the drive-through tree a disappointment, I was convinced the trip would be worthwhile. The Avenue of the Giants confirmed my impression. I didn't do a lot of long hiking, since I was eager to check into my hotel and relax, but I did take some short little loops and saw some amazing trees. At one point, I saw some fur cought on a branch. I went over to see if I could identify the fur, but upon further inspection, saw the fur was actually attached to a rib cage. A mountain lion had apparently stripped the deer's carcass clean. I briefly considered taking a picture before nixing the idea and feeling guilty for considering it. It was an incongruous sight so close to a major road. An early reminder that I was no longer assured of my position at the top of the food chain. I was enjoying the dirve, but antsy to check out my room, so I decided to save the northern end of the Avenue of the Giants for the drive home. I arrived in Eureka a bit after five.
Eureka was a disappointment. Run-down, sleazy. The people by and large seemed like they did something wrong to end up there. I stopped off for some fast food, because I didn't really feel like eating, and was confronted by a panhandler inside the restaurant. Always a sign you're not in the best neighborhood. Overall, it just was bigger and dirtier than I imagined. Fortunately, the Eureka Inn, where I was staying, was in a nice neighborhood in the heart of downtown Eureka. The hotel, judging from the outside and the common areas, was quite nice. The rate was also reasonable. The room itself was showing its age. Turning on the hot water faucet, I was greeted with air, and eventually water. When I took a shower that evening, I discovered it almost impossible to get a shower at a pleasant temperature. The bathroom is a big deal for me in selecting hotels, and so this was a major disappointment. I would later resign myself to taking baths, and decided the water pressure wasn't enough to single-handedly ruin my vacation. The bed was reasonably comfortable. When I went to check out my view, I was taken back to discover my room looked out onto a building I hadn't noticed driving in, the Eureka Theater. Unfortunately, it was not open during my stay, for I would have love to have seen inside. But I did take a peek at the lobby, and it looked quite charming.
My first night in Eureka was uneventful, I relaxed and watched T.V. The hotel had real cable, with Cartoon Network and Comedy Central (I'm used to Vegas, where they don't give you too many channels, lest you actually spend time in your room), so my evening routine was not disturbed much by my vacation. I also spent the evening running through vistor's brochures I'd picked up, and a book on hiking Humbolt County I had purchased at the drive-through tree's gift shop, planning my itinerary. My plan was to get in as many of the short trails as possible, and spend the second day mainly in hiking to Fern Canyon.
The drive from Eureka to the southern end of the Redwoods State and National Parks was about thirty minutes. Again, a beautiful drive, I didn't consider one minute of the commute from my hotel to the parks a chore. Ry Cooder's Paradise and Lunch was my soundtrack for almost all of my time in Humbolt County. It seemed appropriate for lots of reasons, none of which I could pin down. I skipped Trinidad and Patrick's Point, figuring to save them for the drive home. I stopped several times for sight-seeing and photography, but my first major stop was Lost Man Creek. The guide book recommended turning back around the one-mile point; the trail as a whole was ten miles one way. As I had no intention of making this stop an all-day hike, I figured I'd go a bit further than a mile and then turn around. The first mile was quite beautiful, and so I was eager to go on beyond the third bridge, despite the book's suggestion, and the steepening of the trail. Beyond the first mile, the trail in fact became quite steep. I removed my jacket but was still sweating like a pig, the fog recently having burned off and thus not offering any relief on the strenuous hike. The views were still impressive, and I encountered the first of many banana slugs. But I refused to turn around without reaching something that could be considered an achievement, a reasonable turning point. Finally, a bit past two miles, the trail leveled off, and I figured that was turning point enough for me, and headed back. So that was about a four-mile loop with about a thousand feet of elevation gain and loss. (all distances, by the way, are approximations. I never turned on my GPS unit, though past experience suggests the canopy of trees would have rendered it useless, anyway)
I made some more stops, checking out some Roosevelt Elk that were largely obstructed by the overgrown grass they were eating. Around one, I arrived at Prarie Creek Redwoods State Park's visitor's center. I spend a half-hour or so there, and then began plotting what to do next. I had intended to start my big hike here tomorrow, but the path I planned to take, at a bit under 10 miles, really didn't require a full day. I decided to do that hike today, and instead spend tomorrow on shorter hikes and car touring. I believe it was a wise decision, though it would have been nice to have a full day for Fern Canyon, for it was the most amazing thing I saw on my trip. But I had plenty of time, especially considering how late it gets dark in Northern California versus back home.
I took the James Irvine trail down to Gold Bluffs Beach. Few words are needed to describe what one sees on the trail; trees and ferns. But it was really amazing. The redwoods really are tall, and can be quite massive in girth as well. Trees can grow from seeds, or from burls of other trees. You see trees in a circle around an older tree, and know they grew from the older tree. Yet the children themselves are massive. Many times, the founder tree is rotting away, or fallen over and covered in moss and ferns. But sometimes there is no evidence that the founding tree was ever there. Just an empty space. Strange how such a massive thing can be gone. I had seen a lot of trees by this points, and ferns, for that matter, but it was the ferns that really impressed me. The Lost World was filmed here, and I could appreciate why. The whole place looked primeval. I have pictures that will eventually end up here, but you really need to see the area for yourself. It was also quiet and solitary. I'd encounter just enough people that I didn't have to worry I'd fall and break my leg and never be seen again, but still felt like I had the place to myself. Early on, I encountered a burned-out tree (many of the oldest trees had been scarred by fire long ago, and yet were still alive), and could only see blackness inside. I was about to take a picture, chuckling to myself at the idea of my flash illuminating a mountain lion or something looking back at me, when I became convinced that that was exactly what was about to happen. In fact, couldn't I see him now? What was that? Clearly, my keen night vision from my days in a dank projection booth had just allowed me to see a mountain lion ready to prounce (actually, it looked a lot like a cheetah, probably because I'm more familiar with the look of a cheetah than a mountain lion). Forgetting my picture, I took off at double-time, my pulse racing. I started seeing creatures stalking me in every possible location. Eventually I realized I was being ridiculous, but it actually made the journey more exciting.
The largest gathering of roosevelt elk I saw were at Gold Bluffs Beach, at the end of the trail. In addition to the hike I took, one could also drive to this point, so it lacked the seclusion I was enjoying up to this point. I got some good elk pictures, and enjoyed watching them, though they basically just sit there. I had been looking forward to the elk, and so found this a bit of a disappointment.
From here, I walked the Fern Canyon loop. It is a very short trail, and one of the most striking things I've seen, yet few people on the beach took the effort to explore it. The walls of the canyon at this point were probably about fourty feet tall (though I'm a horrible judge of such things...had I not read the informative placard that the tallest trees are around 400 feet, I would have guessed they were about a thousand feet tall) and covered in ferns, except where waterfalls of a sort rolled down the canyon. They were waterfalls, but there were also points where the water didn't seem to originate from any point in particular, no rivers or anything. They looked like it was just water that had gathered in the moist environment, condensed fog or something, that had to go somewhere, so went down. My pictures certainly didn't do this place justice.
To return, I took the Irvine trail back partway, until cutting over to the Miner's Ridge trail, which follows the other wall of the canyon. Similar scenery as the Irvine trail; this area did not have a broad variety of sights, really just three main categories, redwoods, ferns, and beach. But it would be very difficult to get bored with scenery this striking. If memory serves, I completed the hike around five or so (I had forgotten to wear my watch), and figured I should start heading back to Eureka. I stopped a few times on the way, but basically went straight to the hotel.
Before I mention dinner, I should back up and mention breakfast. Every morning I spent in Eureka, I had breakfast at Old Town Coffe & Chocolates. The coffee was pretty good. I especially enjoyed the mexican mocha. But what kept me coming back were their waffles. The best waffles I have ever had, bar none. I do not hesitate in the slightest. Well, okay, I hesitate slightly, because I can imagine a scenario in which I would have a truly scrumcious waffle, and yet the vagaries of time take their toll, and I lose the memory of that taste sensation. But I really have to believe if I had eaten a waffle as light and flaky as these, it would have left an indelible impression. So I stick my by declaration: Best waffles bar none. I ordered them with strawberries and whipped cream, which was not the best, as it overpowered the waffle. This waffle didn't need much help. The best combination I had was the waffle with bananas, pecans and maple syrup. I'm not a huge pecan guy, but this was perfect. And I may never have them again. Life is so uncertain.
For dinner on Tuesday, I went to the (I gathered) recently restored Hotel Vance. The Saffire Rose Cafe is now located in the hotel lobby. Aside from a couple having drinks at the bar, I was the only patron. The restaurant was quite charming, especially since very little had been done to transform it from its original appearance. The bar appeared to be the hotel registration desk. And the kitchen was where, I imagine, the concierge once presided. The food was good, the salad with a nice strawberry vinigrette, and some tasty garlic toast appetizers. I had the smoked salmon pasta, and was surprised by how generous they were with the fish. The dill sauce was quite good, and actually went very nicely with the portabello mushrooms. And the prices were quite reasonable, my meal, with a cocktail, was easily under $20. This is what I was hoping for from Eureka. I still had my qualms about Eureka, but places like the Hotel Vance and Old Town Coffe & Chocolates was giving me something to appreciate the town for.
Since I had been planning to spend Wednesday in Fern Canyon, I had to come up with something else. I figure I hiked about 15 miles on Tuesday, and was a bit sore and tired, so figured I should take it easy. I didn't have too much of a plan, but hoped to get at least far enough north to see the Klamack River. My first stop was Trinidad, where I took a short trail to the beach, via a hundred very steep steps. The beach was stunning, well worth the eventual hike back up the stairs. I enjoyed the view for awhile, read for awhile, and then explored the area a bit more before moving north to Patrick's Point. Another short, steep trail to another secluded beach, which this time I had completely to myself. I could see sea lions in the distance, but though they sounded close, they were quite far away. I enjoyed this park, and should have spent more time here, but I convinced myself time was a premium, even though I had no real plan for this day, so I drove instead of hiked to the other end of the park, to see Agate Beach. What was most striking to me, except for the beach consisting of agates instead of sand, and the redwoods instead of Torry Pines, this beach looked quite like Torrey Pines State Park, back home.
After this, I headed north, stopping from time to time for short hikes or picture-taking. I had lunch at Rolf's, in (or immediately adjacent to) Prarie Creek Redwoods State Park, which I wouldn't recommend. Expensive, and underwhelming. The side salad was interesting, containing a radish and fruit, with a ranch-type dressing which wasn't ranch (wasn't even dairy, I heard the waitress telling another table. Eventually I made it to the Klamack River. I stopped at the old bridge over the river (washed out in a flood aorund '62, if I remember), and again at the mouth of the river. I saw several sea lions swimming, but they were too fast for me to get a picture. I saw one just sitting there, so I got a picture of him at a distance, and then, since he seemed not to be spooked by nearby people, moved closer for a better picture. But then I overheard people talking, and looking at him I realized he was seriously injured. It looked like what happens to manatees when they run into outboard motors. I heard someone say a ranger was coming. Unsure if he was coming to help or just put the poor guy out of his misery, I decided to move on. In the interest of good taste, I took a moment to delete the picture I'd taken from my camera.
I took the scenic costal drive from the mouth of the river, which was nice, but not a highlight of the trip. I was happy to have seen the Klamack River, though; now when I read about water wars and fighting over rights to the river, I'll have a visual point of reference.
Having seen ads for Jack in the Box, and knowing a friend of mine collects their antannae balls (or at least sells them on eBay), I figured I should go there to get him a Raiders ball. Turns out they had a choice; when asked if I wanted the Raiders or 49ers ball, I paniced. I decided to go with the 49ers ball, then immediately decided I'd made the wrong choice, but didn't want to say I'd changed my mind, since then I'd look like I'd given far too much thought to the matter. I decided I would stop at a Jack in the Box on the way back and get the Raiders ball.
My final morning in Eureka, I had waffles and a mexican mocha, of course, then decided to do some shopping. The local running store was having a sale, and I needed shorts, but didn't see any that appealed to me. I managed to spend about $50 total at two used book stores, and also bought some fudge at the coffee shop for my sister, and some chocolates at Patrick's Chocolates for my mother. I hit the road around eleven, and drove the north end of the Avenue of the Giants. Founder's Grove was quite impressive. Other than that, the drive was uneventful. I failed to log my musical selections, though I think Lyle Lovett was well-represented.
I saved shopping in Eureka for the last day to kill time, so I would get a late enough start not to hit San Francisco at the peak of trafffic. So, I hit San Francisco at five. Traffic was a bit heavy, but well-managed. I got through town at a very reasonable time. Had I gotten there later, as I had planned, I probably would have been in trouble, as there was an accident just past the toll booths, I heard on the radio. Oh, yes, in addition to music, I spent much of the drive listening to NPR, getting up-to-date on the world. I got off the freeway to use the restroom, and was unable to figure out how to get back on. I eventually managed to make my way back, and in the process stumbled upon a Jack in the Box and got the Raiders ball, so it worked out nice. I arrived in San Jose around 6:30.
Michelle was in Canada on business, so it was just Eric and myself in San Jose. I showed him my pictures and told him about the trip, and before long it was time for him to go to bed. I read a little and then went to bed myself.
I had hoped to leave early, around seven or so, since the Labor Day weekend traffic would make L.A. not a fun place to be. Instead, I got up around seven, and didn't leave until close to nine. Again, I forgot to log my musical choices, but again, I believe Lyle Lovett was in the mix, and the last half of the trip consisted of me listening to the Randy Newman Guilty boxed set. I hit L.A. a bit before three, and as I thought, traffic was bad. For a holiday weekend, though, it wasn't as bad as I thought. It was always moving, more or less. It let up a bit past L.A. into Irvine, then was heavy again through San Clemente. But overall, I cannot complain about the traffic, especially since this was the only day traffic really was an issue at all. I made it home before six.
So that was my trip. Nice to get away, relax, see the sights, see Randy Newman. I would love to go up to Northern California again soon. Take two weeks or so, see everything. Or at least more than I could in three days or so.
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