Mendocino to Eureka: April 9

April 9

We truly hated to leave Mendocino. If only …

After an excellent breakfast at the Sea Rock we headed out for one last look at the Headlands.

At breakfast we chatted with the “fix-it” guy for the Inn. He lives near Lake Tahoe and comes to Mendocino each Spring to do any repairs that need to be tended to before the season gets into full swing. He was really interesting, and gave us some ideas of places to visit in Vancouver. He may be a mountain person, but before he started work, he crossed the road to the observation point and finished his coffee gazing at the ocean. There is just something about Mendocino sea views that grabs you and won’t let go.

We arrived at the Headlands at low tide, so there were many more exposed rocks, and the surf was gentler than the day before.

The sea breeze was just that, not the near gale we had experienced off and on for the last two days. We didn’t complain as the locals seemed to think it just “brisk”

Tom stopped for gas and found that the service station was full service. The attendant not only pumped the gas, but washed the windshield and side windows. It’s been a long time since we’d seen that! Mendocino is always ready to surprise. He told us to get used to it as it is illegal to pump your own gas in Oregon.

While waiting for the gas tank to be filled, I noticed a pick up truck with a bumper sticker I would love to have had a couple of days ago on The One: “I brake for tailgaters.” Why anyone would tailgate on that highway is beyond me, but they do. Tom just pulls over at the next pull out and lets them go by.

I have figured out why the California cows are so happy, re the California dairy TV commercials. We have seen several pastures with cows grazing contently by the ocean, with million dollar views. If I lived right by the sea like that, I would be happy too.

We had forgotten the miles of sandy beach north of Fort Brag—ten miles according to the signs. I think it has more sandy beach than anywhere else in Northern California. There are dunes as well, really pretty.

We stopped to enjoy some of that sandy beach at Seaside Beach, north of Inglenook and south of Westport, to wander the hard packed sand for a bit.(I am not a soft sand walker—that is too much work!) There was sand as far as the eye could see in both directions, and some neat rock formations here and there, but not in concentration like in Mendocino or further south down the coast.

Tom posed for me against one of the large rocks that protrude from the beach. The formations look like some kind of nature-made statues.

A few minutes later a series of large waves flooded that area. The water was several inches deep where he had been standing. He had been watching the surf and suggested we might want to move up the beach a few feet before they rolled in.

Along The One before it left us:

The One does not go any further North, so we are now traveling the 101, which is called the Redwood Highway in this part of the state. We were a little surprised to find several tacky tourist traps along the way. Those sort of places, which used to be along all the tourist travel routes pre-Interstates, have become very scarce back East. (Did vacation travel primarily on the Interstates do them in?)We couldn’t resist and stopped at one of them. We did not pay the $5.00 to venture into the gravity house, in which the law of gravity does not hold, nor did we take the train ride up the mountain on the “train” that didn’t look like it could pull itself, let along cars up a slope. But we did look at the wonderful souvenirs that are found only in those places, and bought something for Rob. I managed to keep a straight face when the cashier admired our choice.

Tom at one of their humorous photo op spots.

A bit of local-color humor (car painted--very bad paint job, looked like spray paint--to resemble a cop car, with stuffed dummies without facial features, but with sunglasses, inside):

We soon left the 101 for an alternate route to Eureka on The Avenue of the Giants. This is 32 miles of redwood forest, or would be if the road were not closed part way through the drive, which you don’t know until you get there and have to turn around. But it isn’t far to a 101 exit, and we saw enough redwoods for one day.

The coastal redwoods grow along the Eel River in this area, mostly in the Humboldt State Park. There were some very large redwoods and several stretches of road where the redwoods are so thick along both sides that it seemed quite dark.

We stopped at a park visitors' center where we learned that they can grow up to 380 feet tall. The park staff have to keep re-measuring the trees in the park to know which is actually the tallest at present. Each tree grows at a different rate due to available sunshine, moisture, and nourishment. It is possible for a tree to grow so tall that the fluids can no longer get all the way to the top, and the crown of the tree withers and dies. Lightning can strike and damage the top of a tree, as well. Therefore, the tree that has the tallest tree title can easily lose it. So if you are really into seeing the real tallest redwood in the park, you need to ask and not assume the signs are correct. We didn’t see the necessity to be that accurate. I guess we’ll never know.

Cross Section of redwood with historical dates on corresponding rings(including signing of Magna Carta):

The level of the Eel River is very, very low. I would have thought that in Spring it might have had more water. But everywhere there are signs showing the height the river attained in the 1964 flood when it outdid itself at flood stage and did major damage. Rivers are not to be trusted in this area.

As we got back on the 101, I started noticing signs for “Tsunami, Hazard Zone ”. We had seen them once before on our travels. Since the land through which we were traveling was pretty flat, with only low hills surrounding it, I wasn’t sure what one could do if a massive wave was heading that way. The high ground was quite far away and not all that high. Maybe lookin for a redwood isn't such a bad idea.

Tsunami warning sign outside of Ferndale:

At the B&B someone had suggested we detour through Ferndale to see the Victorian houses. Ferndale was settled by Danish and Portuguese dairymen, who thrived and built large, beautiful Victorian homes that became known as “Butterfat Palaces” (not such an attractive name, but the homes are). The whole town has been declared a National Historic District, and a drive through certainly confirms the reason why it should be. There are magnificent Victorian homes and business buildings in authentic period color schemes. It is a lovely little town.

Typical "Butterfat Palace" Victorian home in Ferndale.

Victorian commercial buildings in Ferndale:

We are spending the night in Eureka. I was really hoping Tom wouldn’t say “Eureka, I’ve found it” when we drove into town, but I knew he would, and he did.