Today I took one of the most famous drives in the country, the Pacific Coast Highway, from Leggette to Olema, California, virtually the entire leg north of San Francisco. It took most of the day, starting out of Klamath at 9:30, and arriving in Olema shortly before 8 p.m. It didn’t fail to impress, although let’s just say California is a much bigger state than I had in mind.
When I woke up this morning, it was crystal clear and on the cold side for the first time since I arrived. Its perfect weather, but I decided not to change plans and hang around. This reminds me of the time my friend Kimberly went to Hawaii and it rained every single day, and then on the ride to the airport to go home the skies cleared for the first time and she left in beautiful sunshine.
The first part of the drive, along US 101, is through something I read is called the “Lost Coast.” This is the Northern California coast between the Oregon border and the PCH. I understand for the most part why its lost. Its pretty remote from any sizable towns, and difficult to reach from the main highways. The first town you hit, Arcata, is a pit, as previously mentioned. It didn’t fail to disappoint as I drove through, with bad smells, ugly inlets, various urban type debris, and the like. Its as if though an entire town consisted of the stretch of US 59 between downtown Houston and the airport. Think of it; an entire town that looked like East Mount Houston drive. Yikes!
But shortly thereafter one goes through the Gold Rush port of Eureka. This is a somewhat larger near-city, that has a nicely preserved old downtown, several Victorian buildings, including the extremely ornate and attractive Ingomar Club. The more modern sections are relatively clean and the town appears much more prosperous and lively than anything I’ve seen the last few days. Driving further south one passes through the Humboldt Redwoods State Park. This appears to be more sizable than the park where I visited the last couple of days, although in reality its slightly smaller. More seems to be accessible from the highway, however. If one lives in the Bay Area, this park might be a little easier to visit. You could drive up the 101, visit the park, spend the night in Eureka, then come back the next morning and take another turn through the park on your way home. Or come home via the PCH.
Eventually, you reach Leggette, which is just a couple of stores and a gas station, where Route 1 begins. The first part of the PCH actually runs the some really attractive woods, making very twisting, tight turns for about 25 miles as it winds its way to the coastline. The mix of redwoods, eucalyptus, and cypress trees plays havoc with the light and shadows on a brilliant sunny day like today. It spills into the coast around Rockport where it basically heads south all the way to Muir Beach. The first town of any consequence is Fort Bragg, a fairly non-descript town with a few interesting pubs and shops along the highway, where a number of Mendocino workers and artisans live. Fort Bragg has its share of hitchhikers, panhandlers and vagrants, however, and has at least a touch of Arcata to it.
Shortly Fort Bragg, the fog has rolled in and driven out the sunny day I’d been enjoying up to that point. As I learned however, the fog and sun would battle one another all day, all the way down to Point Reyes. It would roll in and look like the Irish coast for about 10 miles, then just as suddenly I’d drive right into a clear sunny day. These changes were generally quite abrupt, occurring all along the way. You can even see ahead or behind where the fog has taken over but not reached your location yet. It was quite a show.
Several factors make the PCH quite a difficult drive. The road is fairly narrow and in most places the lane nearest the coast has almost no clearance; a steep drop is waiting on the other side of the road. It makes numerous hairpin turns, and if you’re going even slightly too fast, you could veer off a cliff, or into oncoming vehicles. Dozens of cyclists are also on the road, and if you go over a crest too quickly you could hit them before you knew it. Passing them often requires going into the oncoming lane, making any passes on curves out of the question. The scenery is nearly always spectacular, but enjoying it for any appreciable length of time risks veering out of your lane. Finally, the road runs through any number of small towns and hamlets, so pedestrians can come out of nowhere along the way and present their own obstacles. Nonetheless, you can appreciate the drive enough. With the top down, I could smell the surrounding country, which often meant I could smell the fragrant pine and eucalyptus trees, and the ocean breeze (reminding me of the Seinfeld episode where Kramer came up with a perfume that smelled like the beach).
After Fort Bragg, the next significant town is Mendocino. The Sir Douglas Quintet, famously led by Austin’s own Doug Sahm, had the hit “Mendocino” in the late 1960s. Mendocino started as a whaling town, with whaling ships from all over the world making calls, and whalers living in the town when not at sea. Much of the architecture echoes Nantucket’s gray, simple shingled houses. When whaling played out, the town thrived on the logging industry, which also played out. Of late, Mendocino has catered to the summer tourist trade, with lots of well-heeled shops, art galleries, quaint inns and B&Bs, and restaurants and bars. Its situated along the Mendocino Headlands, which resemble in small measure the larger Marin Headlands immediately north of San Francisco across the Golden Gate Bridge. This gives it impressive sea views and lots of interesting hikes and walking options. I got off the highway to drive around town a bit. On the September Tuesday afternoon I drove through, the main streets were full of visitors, parking spaces were difficult to find, and the town appeared hopping even though the summer season had officially ended. Such is the lure of this attractive town.
South of Mendocino, the highway runs through any number of smaller towns. One interesting place I did not visit was the Fort Ross State Historic Park. This was the site of an old Russian fort, built in the mid-1800s by Russian explorers. The original no longer exists, but the state has recreated the buildings on the same grounds.
Somewhere around here, ironically, I hear on the radio that the Ukraine has prohibited Elton John and his domestic partner from adopting an HIV-infected baby orphan, on grounds that he is too old (62) and does not have a sufficient family unit. Let me give you some background on orphanages in this part of the world, courtesy of my Dad’s mission experiences in nearby Moldova and Transnistria, also former Soviet Republics. Orphanages and mental asylums are about on par with one another and often orphanages house adults with either mental or physical disabilities. They generally are located far from the cities, so the orphans have little outside contact. Buildings generally are dilapidated at best. Meals are inadequate, as are winter clothes. Bathroom facilities are appalling and wholly unsanitary. Orphans have very little access to education. In short, the government basically warehouses these little children, barely keeps them alive, then turns them loose on the streets without any connections or chance for betterment when they grow up. So for this Ukrainian official to assert that this kind of life is preferable to life as an adopted child with extremely rich Elton John, albeit his age and situation may not be the norm for adoptive parents, really says a lot. It tells me that Sir Elton didn’t bribe this guy enough. Life in Elton John’s guest room is 100 times better than the average non-HIV infected person in the Ukraine. As for the age thing, why, Hugh Hefner has cared for young blonde girls at his home well past the age of 62, and no one’s complaining about their “mistreatment.” Hell, those girls get their own TV shows out of the deal. Elton, with whatever faults he may have, real or perceived, could surely give this little child a better life than what awaits in some Ukrainian orphanage.
South of Fort Ross lies the little town of Gualala, which is just north of the Sea Ranch development. Those of you who read this blog closely will know that the Sea Ranch is a residential/commercial development where Kimberly and Terry will often rent a small house, or bring other friends for a weekend trip. I’ve written before its an extremely peaceful place with inspirational ocean views, and with numerous interesting and challenging hiking trails. It was fun to go through there again.
South of Sea Ranch all the way past Jenner, the road becomes much more twisting and winding, making driving even more difficult. As I headed into Sonoma County, however, the road actually was above a fog bank sitting right on the coastline with a brilliant late afternoon sun beating down on top of it. This resulted in the above photo , which clearly is the shot of the entire trip. I timed it perfectly, and just pointed the camera and clicked. No photography class needed for that one.
Again, several small little towns are situated between Sea Ranch and the next town of note, Bodega Bay. Alfred Hitchcock made The Birds in Bodega Bay, so it has something of a familiarity to it. Otherwise, however, its just a little bit bigger small town along the coast.
South of Bodega Bay, the land changes into rolling, grassy hills, with few trees. It resembles much of the remainder of Marin County just a bit down the coast. Farming takes over in this area, with nearly every property having grazing cattle or sheep. This area is still attractive, but not nearly as scenic. More importantly, you lose the coast until the road hits Tomales Bay. This is near the beginning of Point Reyes. As I shall describe tomorrow, Point Reyes basically is a triangular peninsula jutting out from the mainland right along the San Andreas Fault north of San Francisco. So the PCH runs along the bay side right into Point Reyes Station and Olema, where I’m staying as I write this. Darkness fell quickly as I left Bodega Bay. So too did my gas needle. I coasted on fumes, with white knuckles on the steering wheel, all the way into Point Reyes Station where I made it to the one gas station in the entire area a little bit before it closed. These two factors combined to ruin what would otherwise have been an extremely scenic and enjoyable drive along the bay coast, enhanced by getting to listen to one of the finest baseball play-by-play announcers, Jon Miller, calling the Giants-Rockies game on KNBR radio.
That made for an extremely long travel day. It was dark when I arrived at the hotel, which I’ll describe in tomorrow’s post. The remainder of this night was just settling in and getting something to eat, and fighting with the hotel’s internet.
Next-Tomales Point
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