When we left on Thursday afternoon it was warm but not uncomfortable. By the time we got over the grapevine - a stretch to the south of Bakersfield - it was a wall of heat. I turned on the a/c. Nothing. I turned up the a/c. Nothing. OMG! It was a late summer heat wave and we had no a/c. I called the rental agency and they said we should swap the car out at the nearest airport, which by then was Fresno and another 2 hours away in the blistering heat, making sure they could accommodate our need of a large SUV. One speeding ticket later on some back farm road and they were changing our contract at the rental place only to find out the car they promised had been sold and unavailable for rental. They stuffed us into a much smaller crossover SUV but we had functional and cold a/c. This inconvenient set back put us way behind schedule and we were forced to bed down for the night in the Sacramento area.
It was dark when we pulled off the highway in search of a quaint, affordable spot to sleep. We pulled into the lane way of one place only to be chased off by some nefarious looking fellows. In the next stop Damon met a woman in the lobby who informed him that this part of town, South Sac, was known as hooker row. Onward we go. As luck would have it our next exit in Old Sac was the right one - perfect location, clean room, good value. We crashed after an exhausting day excited to do a little exploring the next day.
Sacramento is the California State Capitol and until this trip I'd only ever driven through on the way to somewhere else so in the few hours we had I wanted to maximize our conquests. Tours of the Capitol are conducted every day of the year. It's brief and informative including a stint in a legislative session for a few minutes. The vicinity surrounding the building is beautiful as well and hosts many shops and restaurants as well as gardens, the Governor's mansion, cathedrals and other government buildings. We spent some time in the Federal Courthouse which has a gorgeous granite "chair" installation in the lobby inscribed with proverbs and anecdotes from various famous and infamous people. Amazing city/river views can be seen from the top floor.
Just a short walk under the railroad tracks toward the river and you're back in time about a century landing in the Old West. Labor Day Weekend is "Gold Rush Days" in Old Sac and tons of dirt is trucked in to line the old streets as do horses, wagons and civil war soldiers. Old Sac was proclaimed a historic site and many of the buildings in the district are original to the gold rush era. The city is set at the convergence of the Sacramento and American rivers and was subjected to routine flooding. In the mid-1800's the city was reconstructed at a higher elevation and today part of the old city can still be seen underground. Even the Capitol was moved to higher ground from its original location. We meandered along the riverwalk awestruck by the vertical lift "Tower Bridge" and up and down the old streets until our whistles needed whetted before heading back on the road. Ten 22 was just the kind of saloon we needed with another 5 hours ahead of us to Lake Shasta at the tippy tippy top of California.
This stretch of CA is pretty boring. It's arid, fairly flat, often windy and putrid given the copious agricultural plots. We pulled up to our campground at Shasta around 6pm and met Daren and the kids at the dock where they were waiting with the boat. It was still about 90 degrees so being on the water was perfectly refreshing. After a little BBQ, I hung my hammock up between two trees and hopped up for beddy-bye under the stars. If the train passing through all night hadn't awoken me I may have been able to bear the cold but it was not to be. Into the tent I went, from the cocoon of my hammock to the cocoon of my down comforter and featherbed. We spent the weekend boatin
g and skiing celebrating the summer.We set off on Monday morning not having any idea which direction we'd head or where we'd wind up. It was a beautiful lush drive through the mountains as we meandered along the Trinity River which was still flowing wildly from the extraordinary snow fall earlier in the year. And it was hot, dang hot. We found a perfect spot to pull off the highway and take a dip. It was a small but steep hike down the canyon side to the river's edge. I could see how the current was swirling in the eddies at the bend in the river but given the heat it was so inviting. I'm not a strong swimmer so after a moment's contemplation I dove in. I literally lost my breath it was so frigid. The water was moving very fast but I kept close to the edge. Damon, a close relative to the fish, splashed around and played for a long while as I sat on the rocks watching gigantic Steelhead trout and salmon, practically the size of small seals, jump and play right alongside him. It was breathtaking all around.
As adventuresome as traveling without a plan is it can also be a bit harrowing when
you don't know the lay of the land. We emerged from the mountains with just enough time for a brief visit in Eureka, the largest of Northern California's coastal towns. We went from 100 degree temps inland to needing our winter coats at the beach. This variance in temperature creates the visibility of pea soup so we didn't get to see much of the rugged coastline. The town sits on the bay and has a devout Victorian architectural influence. I'm pretty sure the prudish era's influence ends there given Humboldt's reputation as Mary Jane's backyard. It is definitely hippy trippy up there and I loved it. Fuel prices were almost $5/gallon and the coffee was about as strong as fuel. We drove awestruck through the Avenue of the Giants (redwood trees) that make up the bulk of the landscape. The late summer light was waning and we still had to set up camp and cook. We found a beautiful remote spot in the Humboldt Redwoods State Park. We were one of nine occupied camp sites in a park teeming with vacationers only the night before. And lucky to get in too - they were closing for t
he season the next day because of state budgetary constraints. The park is in the middle of a forest so dense with redwoods that the sun barely gets through. It's laced with hiking trails of every level of difficulty and terrific amenities including super hot showers. Firewood is for sale on site.The Shoreline Highway, also known as Hwy 1, is well-traveled by cyclists commanding the 2000 ish mile ride from BC to Baja. We shared this glorious day with them and the cows. And the, double-take, reindeer. A poet I am not but I enjoyed the juxtaposition so here's my rhyme.
By the side of the road Dasher and Dancer roam
Their sleigh and driver nowhere in sight
Under sunny skies and over 5000 miles from home
Majestic beauty before us to our utter surprise and sheer delight
Quaint town after town line the jagged coast and we stopped in just about every one of them. We talked with shopkeepers, travelers and cyclists. At one turn, as our warmth and visibility went from 9 to 2 respectively as we neared the coast, we noticed a few guys in wet suits and what appeared to be weight belts clawing their way up the steep cliff lugging bags behind them. They were reticent to talk to us thinking perhaps we were fish and game wardens since they'd been abalone diving. It is a highly regulated practice and hefty fines are doled out if you breach. They had their "license" (effectively a punch card with hanging chads) and some decent catch. They explained the laws regarding size and quantity limits but also that you can only get what you can get while snorkeling with a weight belt and that you have to use a certain tool and method to extract it from it's habitat. We also learned about preparing them for eating as well which sounds about as laborious as collecting them to begin with. Fascinating. So much so that when we stopped for a picnic lunch at the shore, we collected handfuls of the gorgeous iridescent abalone shells washed up on the beach. We've made jewelry from some pieces.
There's so much to do on the Northern coast - kayaking and whale watching among the most popular activities. We took it a little easier this go around opting instead to visit lighthouses and watch the oodles of sea lions lazily occupying the rocky surf. Each night we had to make sure to secure our accomm
odations before dark - although we witnessed many who didn't and had to set up in the pitch black. It was positively freezing after the fire died down and the only respite was to go to bed. Your instincts tell you to layer up to keep warm but in reality you're warmer if you strip down and snuggle up naked given our bodies are a toasty 98.6 degrees. Paradoxically, it's a rather strange and vulnerable feeling to be in nature's territory in such a "natural" way.One day we only clocked 30 miles on the odometer. We had a wedding to attend on the weekend so we couldn't lollygag the way we might otherwise have. I was hoping to make it to Yosemite since Ive never been in the park before but we were still on the other side of the state. We'd been places and seen things we hadn't seen before and were fully relaxed - just as a vacation should be. As we pushed further down the coast night was falling as we came into Sonoma county so we decided to set up camp on the Bodega sand dunes. This was quite a different experience from the other nights in forests among the shelter of trees. Late in the day the fog rolls in thick and misty leaving the soft grainy sand a wet mess. Following a rigorous hike to the beach through this quick sand and dodging deer poop we were enjoying a big, hot blazing fire. As we sat there talking we see a shadowy figure approaching our camp. All evening long we'd spotted bright curious eyes staring at us through the ambers but they were innocuous (deer are abundant throughout the area). This creature was not you're usual expectant masked beggar. No, this was the kind that could put the kibosh on your holiday right quick. Looking for a snack, a skunk was traipsing right through our camp not 2 feet from where we sat. Any startling
maneuvers and we most assuredly could have been the recipients of that offensive and most potent of defense odors. Our heartbeats no sooner returned to normal when two more came snooping around. Time for bed.At sunrise I was still holding out hope for a trek across the state to Yosemite but Damon learned we were just an hour from San Fransisco so it will have to wait. All the ensuing events that followed were kismet and we spent the last night of our holiday in SF (see another post) capping off an incredible week of adventure.
