Mendocino: April 8

April 8

We awakened to the sound of surf. Love it!

We decided to go to the Ravens (restaurant of the Stanford Inn) for breakfast. I asked the waiter if we could have a dinner menu for our son, who had been a chef there a few years ago. He asked his name and Tom told him only “James”. Shortly, Jeff Stanford (the owner) came over, introduced himself and chatted with us for about ten minutes. He did remember James, and even knew exactly when he had been "cheffing" at the Ravens. We got the menu and a newsletter for James AND a discount on breakfast.

Checking the menu, we decided against returning for dinner. Breakfast was great, but the menu choices for dinner were nothing to rave about, and it obviously was not going to be as good as last time we were there when they had such a fantastic head chef. It was always a little pricey, and has apparently become even more so.

Then we were off to the Headlands.

Plaque at the entrance to the Headlands, in both Japanese and English it says: "Behold the Sea--The citizens of the sister cities of Mendicino and Miasa, Japan, dedicate this plaque to the peaceful pursuits of the peoples of the Pacific Basin to the protection of its environment that all living things there-in may exist in perpetual harmony. July 4, 1982"

The Headlands are hard to describe and pictures don’t do them justice. I know I keep saying that, but we are seeing such wonderful scenery that is almost larger than life—certainly larger than can be photographed, but we will keep trying.

The Headlands are basically plateaus and large "fingers" of land and rock that run out into the ocean, sometimes ending in cliffs and drop-offs. The rain and wind have tried to erode them from the land side and the waves and tides are wearing them away from the water side. The soil is washed away first, leaving rock behind, sometimes in fantastic formations including caves, tunnels, hollows and weird columns and crags. Sometimes the ocean manages to wash away the connection to the land, and an island forms. The Headlands are constantly changing.

There are paths along the edges of the bluffs and across the meadows on the tops of them.

People are really very good at staying on the paths, except for near the edges. People tend to get closer than they should to the drop-offs, as the edges can crumble or they can be washed away underneath where it is not visible.

The paths are narrow affairs, sometime they are worn to two feet of so in width, but that is unusual. They are usually about six inches in width, and often worn down in several inches, so it is like walking in a narrow ditch.

It is difficult to walk in the hollowed out ones. Some have become quite close to the edge—or the edges have worked their way closer to the path through erosion.

The big caution at the moment seems to be rogue waves. We tend to stay relatively high on the Headlands, but in places, you can get down quite close to the water. Rogue waves can come unexpectedly and wash the unsuspecting out to sea. Just a short while ago a family was washed to sea from the mouth of the Big River, at one end of the Headlands.

We spent the morning on one side of the Headlands, took a lunch break and spent the afternoon on the other side. Except for two short breaks, we spent over six hours walking and taking pictures. Tom took over 450 pictures. I wasn’t quite as bad as that.

There was an eerie repetitive sound coming from the sea, sort of like a fog horn. It appeared to be originating from a buoy bobbing quite far from shore.

A ship would soon find itself in deep trouble if it ventured too near the Headlands rocky coast, for there are strong currents and cross currents and many submerged rocks.

We had never walked the one side of the Headlands, and were surprised to find the remains of a huge pier and enormous links of chain (each link about eight inches in length) still fastened firmly into the rock. At our B&B they told us that this was once a docking place for fishing boats, possibly going back to whaling ships.

There are also two interesting carvings on two large wood pillars sunk into the ground. They were probably once part of the same facility, and have been carved in more recent times.

Near this area is a wonderful blow hole. The water inters the cave and is blown back out with great force, filling the air with mist and making a booming noise, almost like an explosion.

The sea was so blue, with so many shades of dark and bright blues and greens that it would have looked unrealistic in a painting. The pictures with the most intense colors are the most like how the sea looked--unless the sun was reflecting in dazzling light!

At one point we were standing on a bluff, watching the waves pound into a hollowed our area in the rocks just below us. Particularly large waves would send the spray flying high enough that we got hit with the spray. The air around that spot became filled with the mist. Except for getting the camera lenses wet, it was really neat.

We saw a man fishing off one of the bluffs. I cannot imagine how he would reel in a fish if he caught one, from that height and over the rocks, but he seemed to think it possible. He had his dog with him and the dog sat on the hill above his master, as if guarding him. But he was more friendly than ferocious.

There were not many people out on the Headlands. We passed maybe a dozen all day. So we often had the location where we were to ourselves. It was unbelievable. When someone did pass on the path they smiled and remarked on how beautiful and what a wonder place this was. I would have to agree. We wondered if after an absence of about six years we would still think it was as great as we did then. It is; we do.

We stopped at the local grocery to get supplies for dinner. For a treat we bought adult brownies, after first inquiring why they were adult brownies. In Mendocino you have to be careful.

Village of Mendocino from the Headlands:

Tomorrow we are off for new adventures. It is time to see some REALLY big trees.