The day in Morro Bay

A relaxing day, the cloudy skies didn't inspire sightseeing, so I showered, did laundry, napped and read for a couple hours. I'm reading Jim Harrison's new book "The Great Leader", and finding it vintage Harrison. I drove into town and got two nice pieces of Opah, and a small charcoal unit. I was tiring of cooking everything stovetop.

The fish market also had a squid salad, made with sesame oil, and mixed with lettuce, it is delicious.

I did take a short walk from the RV place to the beach, and took these pictures of Morro Rock.

If you expand this last picture, surfers are visible.

I'm going to move on tomorrow, perhaps to Pismo Beach or a little further south. I'll be in LA for a week or two, staying with two friends before moving on. I'm finally finding this rhythm, I'm not uncomfortable with simply reading the day away, listening to NPR, or just people watching. We'll see if it lasts.

Big Sur to Moro Bay

I arrived in Moro Bay around noon today, sunny and near 80f when I got here, it's now foggy and 55f. I'm staying in a RV place near the beach that has little to recommend it except it's clean, crowded, and walking distance from the beach. Oh, and pretty good wifi. That's enough for two days.

I stayed yesterday at Limekiln St. Park, a little south of the community of Big Sur. The three places I had stopped in the area of Big Sur were all full, and it was still late morning. This place was not well-marked, and I had to make a sharp braking turn to do down the one lane road. It is located near a high bridge where Highway 1 goes over, and spreads a ways up a canyon with a clear, fast-flowing creek.

But the first picture has to be what I saw a couple miles north, in one of the many pull-outs with views of the coastline.

Yep, it's occupy Big Sur. Forget occupy Wall Street. I talked to the two guys for a bit, the one at the drums is a musician, and had done a gig in Billings. This may be a movement without a clear goal, but damn, it's got legs.

Anyway, on to the campground and it's surroundings.

The view east:

The west:

My campsite:

And the sunset, that drew seemingly every camper in the park.

I had entertaining neighbors on each side last night, to my west were a young couple from San Luis Obispo, the young man a salesman for a garden company, but obviously destined for other things. The young woman a recent graduate from Cal Poly, was "figuring out things, but it's mostly pro bono now." I assured her she'd figure out the angles. The family on the other side was young also (everybody is young, know what I mean?) with three cute kids under 10. Over a bottle of vin ordinaire we talked literature, Hemingway and others.

This morning I was up at my usual 6am, and was driving out to discover the gate locks from 8pm to 8am. I listened to NPR for a bit until a sleepy looking young man let me out. On the way south, past San Simione I saw some nice views, including some elephant seals.

As I was cruising along, I saw a beach with what looked like huge sandbags all over. Elephant Seals. Big suckers.

While posting this, the fog has gotten thicker, visibility is around 100 meters. I'm going to cook a nice piece of Cabezon I got at a harbor fish market. A salad, and the remains of the loaf of bread from Pt. Reyes will be fine.

I'll be here two days, hopefully the fog will lift.

Cheers, people.

Big Sur to Moro Bay

I arrived in Moro Bay around noon today, sunny and near 80f when I got here, it's now foggy and 55f. I'm staying in a RV place near the beach that has little to recommend it except it's clean, crowded, and walking distance from the beach. Oh, and pretty good wifi.

I stayed yesterday at Limekiln St. Park, a little south of the community of Big Sur. The three places I had stopped in the area of Big Sur were all full, and it was still late morning. This place is not well-marked, and I had to make a sharp braking turn to do down the one lane road. It is located near a high bridge where Highway 1 goes over, and spreads a ways up a canyon with a clear, fast-flowing creek.

One of no doubt several inconsequential posts....The Curious Case of the Marin Pine Cone

Ok, I've seen pine cones, on trees and off, all my life. As many of you have, no doubt. Here's the thing...they grow out at the end of boughs, yes? On pines such as this, a coastal pine near Olema.

On closer survey, it has some pine cones growing in the usual areas.

All well and good. Keeping with our structured view of the world, nothing out of the ordinary. Then we look closer, and it appears that the pine cones are growing on the limbs themselves, absent of any nearby needles.

See that?? They've sprouted from the limb itself!!!! What's up with that?? Then I looked further, and was disturbed by my discovery.

Damn things are growing on the trunks! Hell's up with that??

This may have played some part in my decision to stay only two nights here. One never knows. I saw the movie with the pod people that took over the parents, and was taking no chances.

Anyone out there that can explain this, please do. Otherwise, I may never go back to Marin County again.

Sonoma and Marin

I headed west to Highway 1 this morning, down from Jenner through Bodega Bay and on to just past Pt. Reyes.

If you enlarge the pictures, you can see some of the houses built right on the cliff's edge.

From the coast, the narrow winding highway goes past Tomales Bay, and to Inverness.

I went on to Bolinas, a curious little town just across a lagoon and estuary from Stinson Beach, a more well-known locale to Bay Area residents. My family moved here in 1959-60, and I went to school in a two-room schoolhouse for 8th grade. It burned down in the early 80's, but a duplicate was built on the site.

Bolinas was the part-time home to Richard Brautigan, and in his time fabled occurances happened, such as he and Montanan Thomas McGuane having a fly casting contest, and the looser having to walk the length of town sans trousers. It's were he also shot numerous television sets, and himself. It became a legend of sorts in the 60's and early 70's as a haven for hippies and anarchists.

While living here, I was friends with a classmate, Wayne McKenney, 'Mickey', as we called him. He drowned in an unfortunate accident in May, just before we finished 8th grade. I've been back several times over the years to his grave, in a nice graveyard behind the small catholic church just north of town.

I've visited his grave several times over the years, starting in the 1970's. Mickey's parents are long-gone, his only sibling, an older sister lived in Bellingham. I talked to her once on the phone in the late 1980's, and her memories were either dimmed or she didn't want to rouse them. I think I understood, and never called her again. His grave is beneath hundred-plus year old eucalyptus trees, and quiet. It's as good as place as any, I suppose. He missed a lot, though.

I had stopped on the way down at Hog Island Oyster farm, and in Pt. Reyes at the Cowgirl Creamery. And there happened to be a bakery nearby.

Dinner was simple fare....

We vagabonds are simple folk, and a brace of oysters, a local triple-cream and asagio cheese, with a crusty bread will do us fine.

A Little Further

Camping, if this can be called camping, near the mouth of the Russian River, below Guerneville CA. Yesterday I decided I'd had enough of the clouds and fog, and needed a dose of sunshine. I went inland, and along California 128 going east I found a very nice state park. Sunny, and warm even in the shade of the Madrone and Redwood trees. The volunteer ranger in residence said the previous weekend the campground had  been full, last night there were 4 sites occupied out of around 65. Very quiet, except for the acorns dropping from the Oaks, and carooming down through the branches much like a pachinko ball, finally hitting the top of the camper.

On the way, I stopped in Mendocino, a charming town on 101.

Today I drove to Cloverdale, then south on 101 to an exit for Guerneville. I lived for a couple years near here in the early 1980's while in grad school, and know the area fairly well. My buddy from Alaska and I got a house here near a lesbian leather biker bar, and played pool there of an evening. We were tolerated, barely, because they thought we were a couple. Until my cousin Chuck visited and hit on one of the women, but that's another story.

I'm staying tonight in a RV park, nearly empty, which is good because the sites are really crammed together. And they have more than their share of rules, I've been chastised twice already for various infractions. How was I supposed to know they only allow driving on the road?  I may trot out the .45 later, the nearby orderly signs look ready-made for target practice. I'm staying here only because of the wifi, and will trundle along tomorrow.

It was sunny earlier, though cool, but now the fog has rolled in up the river.

Some errata from the trip so far, probably of no interest to anyone:
Miles since leaving Butte..........1975
Average gas mileage.................10.8mpg
Highest transmission temp.........176 f
Onstar used 4 times, once for unlocking truck, 3 times for calls.
Average price for camping spots (state parks and commercial RV) $40..more than I had thought.
Driving music (in response to one of the rare readers)...Neil Young, Greg Brown, Jackson Browne, Jefferson Airplane, Moody Blues, Simon & Garfunkle, Elvis Costello, Dylan,  and a few others.

I recently had a morning where I felt troubled, and gave it some thought. I came to the conclusion that I was getting bored with this, and worked out three possible solutions: Go home. Become one with the boredom, or get some purpose to the trip, e.g. see nat'l monuments, fish, etc. A good friend over the years suggested it might be the weather, it'd been cloudy and foggy for a couple days. She may well have been right, I feel much better after a day with sunshine.

Tomorrow I'm going over to Bodega Bay, and see what they have in the way of bottom fishing. A few rockfish, perch or ling cod would cheer me up considerably.

So the general plan, subject to change, is to spend at least another night or two in the Sonoma/Marin area, then early one morning (4am) up and across the Golden Gate and down 101 to 1.

Yr Obdt Svt
Mike

Redwoods and the Redwood Coast

I'm again staying at a KOA 16 miles north of Fort Bragg, with a babbling brook going by the camper. It's foggy today, at least here. I just walked to the beach, it's about 300 yards away. Yesterday and the day before it was beautiful, sunny and 75f.
The water pump got installed with some difficulty in Eureka, it didn't fit properly so the fellow resorted to a lot of silicone to seal it in. I let it dry yesterday, and filled the tank a bit ago....no leaks, at least so far.

I spent a nice afternoon and evening at a state park in the Redwoods on the Avenue of the Giants.

The Eel River, looking fishy.

My neighbors in the campground were these two fellows who had been roommates at university, both convivial, I'd guess in their late 40's. One turned out to be a remarkable guitar player and good singer. He did some standards, and an excellent rendition of Jefferson Airplane's Embryonic  Dream. The other lad took my last beer with seemingly little guilt.

After a day and a half, I felt the need for sun. The redwoods are so open underneath because very little sunlight filters down to the ground. I went the short distance down 101 to Highway 1, and the 25 winding miles over to the Pacific. A few miles south I found a state campground on a bluff 75 feet over the beach.

From my camper window (below)

The sunset was lovely

I'll stay here a couple days, the beach looks good for some walks, and hopefully the sun will re-emerge.

Hooray for Canadians and Onstar

At one point around 2pm, stuck in a construction traffic jam in Arcata, I started laughing. It may or may not have been hysterical in nature. Surely there can't be anything else go wrong, I thought.

The morning started off just fine, coffee, listening to Humboldt State Public Radio, a long hot shower in the KOA bathrooms, all was great. I packed up and left, got about 5 miles down 101, and remembered I'd put the wet towel and washrag in the dryer at the KOA. So back I went, still in a good humor. No big deal. Starting again, I got about 10 miles down the coast and saw a scenic pullout, with a view of the coastline. Some pictures would be the ticket, I said, pulling over and getting out. I had unlocked the truck, all doors, and left the keys on the seat. With my phone. Standing beside the truck, focusing the camera, the truck beeped it's horn. My razor-sharp mind raced through the possibilities, and ended with "No. It can't be."

Spare key, you ask? Yep, in the truck. I had actually considered this before; this is not the first time I've locked myself out of the truck. My thinking was that surely if I locked myself out, I'd have my phone, and could call Onstar, and they could do their long-distance magic thing, and presto! It'd be open. I was standing there with a god-knows-what-kind-of-look on my face when a rig from Oregon pulled in behind me. The fellow got out to take some pictures, and I asked to used his cell phone. It had no signal, but then he said "Hey, I have Onstar, let's try that." Turns out he's from Alberta, part of a cycling team working the coast route, and was kind enough to wait while I worked this thing through. So hooray for Canadians. Let's all do a chorus of "Oh Canada". 123......

Eventually, after three unsuccessful tries where they unlocked his vehicle instead of mine, it worked. I can't express my relief, and the vague feeling that this high-tech crap I've been dissing for years may actually have it's uses. All this took perhaps an hour. No big deal, I'm on vacation, not in a hurry, no worries, mate. So hooray for Onstar. No song here.

Somehow I missed the turnoffs for the National Redwood Park, and got to the Trinity area. I'ts where I had planned on staying, so I figured I'd get a site at a recommended RV park, and go back. The RV park is just fine, and my site has a partial view of the ocean (see pics below), and has all the hookups, water, electric and wifi.

The water pump in the camper had started making a louder noise yesterday, and I had noticed other RV's hooking a hose directly to the camper. I have just such a hookup on mine, so I thought I'll do that, relieve the pump, and Bob's your uncle. I did just that, only to discover that on the inside, there is no connection betwix the inlet and the water system. It just gushes out beneath the sink. Sopping up water with towels ensued.

The inside dry, I relaxed, turned on the computer. Huh, no external power to the computer. It's plugged in to the wall outlet, the camper is plugged into the site feed. What ho? Must be a fuse. Nope. Circuit breaker, nope. Shit. So off I go to Eureka, 25 miles, to find an RV dealer. Your electrical system is fine, says they, but upon asking about the water pump noise tells me it's dying, and leaking to boot. I make an appointment to replace the water pump in the morning and go back to tell the RV Park their electric outlet at my site isn't working.

It's now 4:40pm, and my mind is saying something about strong drink. In the interest of brevity (cue laugh track here) I haven't included the bit about when I stopped to help a German couple from Cologne who had locked the keys in their rental car, and I got a long lecture from Onstar about not using proper technique to place a call.

If you happen to have read this far, here's the view from my camper:

So, the view is good, and tomorrow bright and early I'll present myself to the RV place who will hopefully fix me and I'll be on my way. Just a hiccup, I'm telling myself.

Crescent City, California

At last, the Pacific Ocean.

I drove down from Portland yesterday, rain all the way to Roseburg. Highway 199 took me from Grants Pass to 101 near Crescent City. My handy guidebook found me a quite nice KOA, first time I've ever stayed in one, I've always looked at them in disdain. Ha. Welcome to the retired world, Mike. The weather cleared up today, and I went to into town and gawked like any tourist.

Tomorrow I'll head further south, bit by bit. The Redwood National Park is next. I could get used to this.

Portland

I've spent a couple days with Henry, he's pretty busy with school (when he's not watching football on a tv the size of Kansas). It's been the same weather as Seattle, grey and rain. I did go to Powells, perhaps the best bookstore in the US, and got several books to occupy me. Henry has a house in a section of North Portland where 20 years ago one would not want to be after dark, now it's a great, family neighborhood, diverse, quiet, green and probably quite beautiful if the sun ever shines.

So tomorrow I head out, and the 'real' road trip begins. The weather on the Oregon Coast is quite unpromising for the next week, and with the rain they've had the rivers will be up and out of shape. My plan is to head down I5 to Grants Pass, and over to Crescent City, CA. At that point, I plan on going into slow motion, and taking a month to get down to LA. I will probably stay on the coast, 101 or Highway 1, find a place I like, and chill, as they say.

The camper has held up admirably, no leaks at all. There is a new small dent in the front from a low-hanging tree on the block, but barely noticeable. I think it must weigh near 2100 pounds with the water and supplies, but the truck purrs along just fine.

Below is a picture taken in Seattle by Michael K., who has posted on my other blog. We had lunch together, and he wanted a 'before' picture, I think. We'll have to see what 'after' looks like in 6 months.

Seattle

One thing that making Seattle my first stop on the trip is giving the camper a good leak test. It's rained all but one day so far, and hearing the rain on the roof is quite relaxing. So far, it's dry inside.

Yesterday the youngest daughter had the day off work, so we went to Alki Beach, which provides a good view of Seattle from the SW. We had lunch at Dukes, great clam chowder.

I'm meeting a colleague from the past today to do a pro bono consult, lunch with a friend, and get some local seafood for dinner. I will probably leave Friday to go south to Portland and hang with the son for a couple days, then onward and further.