Pacific Coast Cruising.
Between my trip last year and the one I'm on now, I have officially traveled the entire Pacific Coast Highway, a.k.a. the "PCH." Route one starts just north of San Diego and takes you alongside many popular, overcrowded, but beautiful beaches and extravagant homes in Los Angeles and continues up the coast in the form of a narrow and winding two lane highway. Driving along the side of the curvy cliffs, sometimes above the clouds, last summer was simply beautiful and wandering through tiny towns like Cayucos and more popular and slightly larger ones like Carmel-by-the-Sea, I knew I wanted to finish the northern end of the drive.
From San Francisco we headed north and had to skip a small portion of the PCH that was closed due to landslides before stopping at Point Reyes National Seashore. Our stepdad, Jay, had given me many recommendations before taking this trip, having traveled a bit around the country himself, and this was one of them. He was right. The drive through the small town of Inverness, California, past a very cool shipwreck, lead us to an open stretch where the bright blue ocean surrounded us. I leaned up out of my seat multiple times to try and look over the rocky edge in the distance to see the crashing waves peaking through. It was breathtaking and the elephant seals we drove through the seashore to track down were a rare find. They lazily lounged on a beach protected by cliffs from the wind, elements and tourists, onlookers only able to see them from afar. The wind howled as it threatened to knock me over and I was ready to walk back to the car in my disappointment, unsure if they were ever going to move. Finally, rocking back and forth and sliding its massive body like an accordion towards the water's edge, it began to swim around. It looked like it was yawning in the water when it started making an incredibly loud noise. I'm not even sure how to describe the sound so I'll let you google it to hear for yourself. Hoping to see more of these creatures, we stopped at the lighthouse at the end of the coastline which is also, fun fact, the windiest place on the Pacific Coast and the second foggiest place on this continent. With gusts averaging 40 mph, the parks service is often forced to close off the stairs down to the lighthouse for safety precautions. Closed when we were there, we admired from a distance and headed back to Bertha, watching the coastal grasslands dancing with the wind like they were waving to us, reminiscent of the water rippling down below.
Driving along the coast at sunset was mesmerizing. It took a lot of will power not to stop at every turnout to see the sun casting light and shadows from a new angle, but we made it pretty far and decided to car camp for the night right there on the side of the PCH. Contrary to what you may think, no, I have not had to sleep in Bertha yet. The end of sunset off in the distance and the a turnout hidden by a wall of soil and plants, it was the perfect spot. Having driven it last year I knew car camping was allowed, it just had to be in a spot that didn't have a "no camping" sign. Laying one of my back seats flat and pushing everything we had over to the other side, I made a bed for myself while Thatcher slept in the front seat, determined that it was indeed the most comfortable place to sleep. After waking up with a few aches and pains, I don't know if he agreed with his earlier assessment, either way, Bertha was a great bed for the night.
We headed farther north up the coast and stopped at the small and adorable town of Mendocino, strolled through their half-a-block long farmer's market and used book shop, grabbed a postcard or two and continued on our way. Glass Beach is where we were headed and it's right in Fort Bragg. Should you drive the northern side of the PCH, it is a site not to be missed. I could see why Thatcher's friend warned us that there may not be anymore glass, it's so tempting to take. I am sorry, but not sorry, to say that I gave in to the temptation just a little bit. How could you not though? Formerly a city trash dump site, although you would never know now by its beauty, and tucked about ten feet down the sea side cliff was a small beach that from above looked like regular sand with a handful of people shelling on it. Getting down there and looking more closely, the smoothed edges of sea glass, some translucent, others opaque in reds, greens, white, and the occasional deep blue, made up this unique beach. Everything from cans and bottles to appliances and car parts were dumped into the ocean, apparently this was a normal thing for seaside cities back in the day, and the ocean as you can imagine, was not a fan. Tumbling and tossing in the salty sea for thirty years or more turned these pieces of glass into the smooth, sometimes frosted, colorful, coin size gems that I got to experience. I made sure to take my shoes off and walk along the glass beach, it's surprisingly comfortable bed of “sand” not letting me sink in too far. Hopefully there will still be some glass left for everyone to see and walk barefoot on, it is truly one of a kind.
The Avenue of the Giants, the 31 mile scenic byway that runs alongside the 101 for a stretch is an excellent detour. It was here that we discovered an ancient forest in all its grandeur. A detour well worth the extra thirty minutes, if you ask me. Did you know that Redwoods are the tallest trees? Sequoias, yes are the largest, but their height doesn’t even come close to the Redwoods. Tall enough to live in three climate zones, the base in one, the stem in another and the crown in yet another, some are even taller than the Statue of Liberty. They are also some of the oldest living things. The oldest Redwood ever recorded was found here in Humbolt Redwoods State Park and was found to be 2,200 years old. Thank goodness they are protected by our parks and recreation system. Strolling through the short loop of skyscrapers before moving on to new sights, we found many fallen trees as well. These downed giants are essential to the health of these forests, they give a home to close to 4,000 species once strewn across the floor. Up until it fell on March 24, 1991, the Dyerville tree was recognized as a “Champion” Coast Redwood standing at close to 370 feet tall. By comparison, that’s 200 feet taller than Niagara Falls, and it probably weighs over one million pounds. A week before it fell, a tree nearby also fell which caused a domino effect of a few trees which knocked into this ancient relic and caused it to crash after going strong for about 1,600 years. No one actually saw the giant fall, but a park neighbor a mile away heard a large crash they mistook for a train wreck.
Yes, in case you missed it, if a tree falls in the woods and no one is there to hear it, it still makes a sound.
On our way to the last and in no way least stop in California, Fern Canyon, we stayed in Eureka for a night. Eureka is a coastal city that boasts the rather beautiful and impressive Sequoia Park in the center of it where we walked FitzGerald. His owners, Macie and Garhett, are who we spent the night with while there. They reminded me a lot of my mom and stepdad with their projects around the house and excitement for game night. Thank you again for the hospitality and for teaching us Cribbage! Refreshed and full of delicious home cooking, we set out for Redwood National Park. Inside the National Park there are also state parks that, lucky for us, honored our annual park pass for entrance. We had read about Fern Canyon’s short hike online and seen photos that looked too good to be real and decided we had to see for ourselves. The few mile winding gravel road off of the main national park byway was so dusty that the plants surrounding us were completely covered in grey soot. The eerie drive through the forest, or ghost forest as we kept calling it, let out to sunshine and Gold Bluff’s Beach. Turning right and heading to the farthest parking lot, we found what we were looking for. Fern Canyon is where part of the second Jurassic Park was filmed which makes sense since some of the trees date back to the Triassic period. That has nothing to do with anything other than the fact that it's a cool little bit of trivia, by the way. Stepping into the canyon, I noticed the rocky ground below my feet, the trickle of water coming from further up and the sweeping branches above. The entryway for the canyon practically called out to us as we advanced along the wooden planks set down as small bridges. Walking into the lush canyon farther we came to tall walls covered in bright green ferns begging you to reach out and run your hand across them. Barely any of the walls were without foliage, except for the spots where water trickled like mini waterfalls to the stream down below zig zagging along the canyon floor. Rather large downed trees and other onlookers in our path, we navigated our way through what is undoubtedly one of my favorite, not too hidden, secrets. We climbed over and under the massive tree, discovered an area with far less people, and headed up the stairs and the rest of the loop trail marked closed. We had spoken to a ranger who assured us we'd be fine so we went on ahead. Not quite as fern covered as the other half, we walked up above the canyon walls and were rewarded with a pair of banana slugs slowly engaging in a cuddle session. They were so fascinating and their slimy exterior had some pretty amazing details along it. Having stepped on a slug barefoot by accident when I was a kid, I have never loved the slippery little suckers. These guys, however, I liked. I would have never expected to find a jungle in the Redwood National Park but boy, am I glad we did
We've been in Oregon for a little less than a week now. So much has been seen and I can't wait to share it all with you!
- G.
The Photo:
Pacific Coast Highway.
California Coast.
7/20/17.
