Eureka to Crescent City: April 10

April 10

Since we had done the tour of Victorian homes in Ferndale, we thought it only fair to take the self-guided driving tour of the Victorians in Eureka. Many were restored beautifully, but all too many were split into several apartments and not kept up at all. They were sadly in need of repairs, painting, and removal of ferns and weeds from gutters. Some looked like the rain gutters were weedy flower boxes. The area around the Carson House, however, was gorgeous.

We did see some magnificent houses, including the Carson House, which the tourist literature says is the most photographed house in Eureka. The restoration is wonderful.

It is now a private club. The Carson House was originally built by a lumber baron, who kept 100 of his out of work laborers busy for almost a year building the house.

My favorite one was very well preserved and painted in traditional Victorian colors (which are much more colorful than most people think). However, I sincerely doubt that the original owners would have painted each wall a different color and trimmed each side of the house differently. It is sort of Hippie meets the Victorian era, and has a joyful look about it.

Next we checked out Woodley Island’s Somoa Beach and dunes. The dunes there are stabilized dunes, which I realize is a good idea as it keeps them in one place, but to me a stabilized dune is a pile of sand or hill that has grass and plants growing on it keeping it in place; it is no longer a dune. But that is my own view not that of those who take care of shore places. The beach had a steep deep loose sand access—not my kind of beach. Tom did hike down to the water. I enjoyed the view from the car.

Unfortunately the view of the dunes includes a close up view of a pulp wood plant on the other side of the road.

We did not have much of a drive as far as distance goes today, but since it included a lot of park driving—which for us is never a straight line—we knew it would take hours, and it did. We entered The Redwood National and State Parks. It is difficult to believe, but the National Park Service and the State Park Services have agreed to joint administration of this park system. It took a long time to work out, but it seems to serve everyone well. If it were not for the signs, you might not realize you are leaving one park and entering another.

At the first Visitors’ Center we watched a short film of coastal redwoods that was excellent. We looked at some of the exhibits, then went out back, along a short path, and arrived at a dynamite beach. The sand was not the fine light sand we had seen earlier, but coarser, darker sand, with bits of gray in it that looked like tiny pebbles, worn down.

The beach is strewn with driftwood, from tiny pieces to whole trees and stumps. Most are weathered and beautiful. We wandered around and took pictures.

I finally saw instructions on tsunami dangers. There are two types of tsunamis. If you feel an earthquake, you get out of the coastal area as quickly as safely possible—higher ground and/or far away. If a tsunami is a long traveled one, there is a warning system in place that is supposed to let you know in plenty of time to evacuate, hopefully.

It sounded like the greater danger was “Sneaker Waves” (I would assume another name for rogue waves), which can strike from a calm sea on a non-stormy day. Four people had been swept from that very beach since 2004. Gives one pause to consider while strolling the beach!

We planned on going to Elk Meadow and Elk Prairie to see the Roosevelt Elk from the safe viewing area as suggested by the park rangers. However, the elk had not been told that was where they were supposed to be grazing (or they didn’t feel like being stared at again).

We did see them, but in the back yards of rental cabins, happily munching on the lawns. We drove close enough to take pictures, but not too close. A full grown male elk can weigh up to 1200 pounds and they have very little sense of humor.

There are signs all over the park explaining that when on the pathways, you should make noise to let the animals know you are there. I wasn’t sure I wanted them to know that. Supposedly they will avoid people, but if not, I’m afraid that letting them know where I am could be furnishing the menu for them.

Anyway, if you see bears, you are supposed to make a lot of noise and stand up very tall or on top of something if possible to appear as large and intimidating as possible. Small children should be picked up and held high, so they appear to be larger. (I know it is wrong, but doesn’t the idea of holding a child up seem to be saying “here he is, a tasty tidbit”)?

However with elk, you are advised not to stand your ground but to run and hide behind something, like a log. I don’t think elk would try to eat you, but if they dance on you it isn’t good.

We did not see either one on our walks around the park. Nor did we see any snakes, which are not my favorite creature to run into.

In Prairie Creek State Park we took a detour down the old road, now called the Newton Drury Drive through some magnificent old growth redwoods.

Some of them grew right to the edge of the road, and reflectors on metal posts were carefully placed in front of them to warn motorists of their proximity. Three hundred foot trees are fairly obvious, but a reminder is always good I guess, and it might prevent the trees from being side-swiped and damaged.

We took the trail to the “Big Tree” which is supposed to be the largest in the forest, but although we saw several humongous trees, no one of them had a sign saying it was the Big Tree. One of our fellow adventurers on the trail informed us that he thought the top of the tallest tree had fallen off and they had not named its successor.

Some of the trees were family clone groups, several trees growing from the same burl, sharing a root system. Sometimes they began as a single huge trunk, then split into two or more trunks part way up. Even though it had not rained, it was cool and very damp under the trees. Little light gets through to the ground, and the moisture stays trapped, just as the trees like it.

As we headed back to the 101, Tom saw a road marked “Coastal Road”, with a warning sign that no towed vehicles should attempt it. Right away I did not think it was a good idea (remembering the logging road I ended up on with Tom and James a few years ago). But when Tom asked if we should try it, I was still thinking of a good answer when he turned onto it.

He told me not to worry as it was paved, two lanes wide (admittedly narrow ones), and there was an actual painted line down the middle. The line was first thing to go, followed closely by the pavement. The gravel surface then went to dirt, and it became narrower and narrower. This was a “coast” road, so soon we could see the ocean through the trees on the left side of the road. Before much longer we could see the ocean immediately to our left, straight down, with no guide rails. The surface changed from gravel to dirt to worn and broken pavement and back at irregular intervals, and also at irregular intervals we encountered “one lane ahead” signs at wash-outs and slide areas.

“Steep grade ahead” struck fear into my heart as I thought we were already on a steep grade. I think Tom must have agreed because he downshifted a second time. I whimpered quietly so as not to disturb the driver’s concentration.

Then we crested a hill and found a wonderful overlook with a beautiful stone wall around it. We parked (plenty of room to do so) and looked down on Golden Sand Beach, many, many feet below us. This was an area where gold was extracted from the sand in gold rush times. It was beautiful. I could have stayed there forever, especially since leaving meant returning to the road.

We had one more steep grade to navigate. The hill down was easily as steep as the first hill on a roller coaster. I even asked Tom if the car might tip over frontward, and was assured it would not. The hill up on the other side was about the same.

Finally, after several false promises, we found paved road, two lanes, with a painted line down the middle, and were shortly back on the 101.

A few miles later Tom suggested going to the Klamath River Overlook, from which you gaze down at the Pacific from 400 feet up in one direction and the mouth of the Klamath River with mountains in the background from another. It had sounded great when the ranger suggested it, but I was not as enthused after our coast road adventure. The good part was that this road would ordinarily have frightened me to death, but in comparison, it wasn’t all that bad.

Although the sky had clouded a bit, the mist was moving in, and the wind was starting to kick up, it was still worth it. It was misty but beautiful.

We thought we saw whales (again). But if they were whales, they were treading water rather than swimming. We hope to see them eventually.

We finally got to Crescent City and were ready to collapse after we did laundry. I’m pleased to report that Tom is a quick study. Maybe when we get home he can master our washer and dryer.

Sunset was not spectacular because as usual the clouds hugged the horizon, but it was pretty cool anyway. This was taken from our room balcony: