My Wednesday was not quite over when I left the Lost Coast behind.  There is nothing “lost” about Eureka, the northernmost commercial hub on the California coast.  It is a rather bustling port, with a solid maritime past.

Above is a logging display, on the grounds of Fort Humboldt, which the U.S. Government established to keep peace between Gold Rush-era settlers and the Yurok people.  It is now a sparsely furnished state park.

Downtown Eureka is full of solid, late-19th Century buildings, and several which are not up to modern earthquake-proof standards, and are identified as such on their frontage.

Eureka has a promenade and marina, where the community may gather. Life seems pretty good here now, after a long economic downturn.  Crescent City, some fifty miles to the north, also is bouncing back, but from a tsunami  a year or two ago.  Fog kept me from seeing very much of Crescent.

In between the  two, lies Redwood National Park, which is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site.  The redwoods here are younger than those in Humboldt State Park, which I featured in Part 1 of this post.  They have a different species of elk, called Roosevelt Elk. Two Roosevelt Elk were happily feeding, as I stopped for a traffic light just shy of Crescent City.

The fog and I continued on my way to Brookings, OR, where I spent a restful night.  Day 8 was to be equally as fulfilling.

Jack London heard the call of the wild.  I heard the whisper of nature’s giants, the coastal redwoods, throughout the day on Wednesday.  I have been to all parts of California, and have several favourite spots in each area- San Diego, Palm Springs, South Lake Tahoe, Telegraph Hill, Santa Barbara, Santa Cruz.  The Redwood Country, though, speaks to me as a unit.  For my Tuesday night sleep-under-the tree canopy and stars experience, I chose Standish-Hickey State Recreation Area.  It is quiet and perhaps one of the area’s best kept secrets, being somewhat in the shadow of Humboldt Redwoods State Park and Richardson Grove, but certainly no less lovely than its bigger siblings.

The area even has its own gathering spot, run by some rather insular, but interesting characters.  It’s the Peg House, just across the road from the park.  The family does turn out some great sandwiches, including the Breakfast Burrito, which could probably have sustained me for the next week. Coffee is great as well, and they have Yerba Mate, for those who prefer.  There is a surprisingly good collection of books, on various subjects, for sale.  There is also “the sheriff”.

Heading north, I encountered the South Fork of the Eel River.

Then, the Redwood Show was on, throughout the Richardson Grove and Humboldt Redwoods, including the Avenue of the Giants, which I followed as far as the Honeydew turn-off.  Here are four shots; with the rest being saved in my Flickr account when I get back to Prescott:

This grove is just north of the little town of Miranda, at “Auto Stop # 2”.

Next is a loner, about four miles further north.

In Humboldt Redwoods State Park, on the Gould Grove Trail, lies this reminder that redwoods have shallow roots, but are durable, even in death.

Towards the west end of Humboldt, there rises the Rockefeller Forest.

Once out of the redwoods, one enters the King Range of the Coast Mountains.  This is the area often called The Lost Coast.  Much of it is accessible only on foot.  The towns are small, and don’t seem to get many visitors.  That’s a pity; this area has great beauty all its own.

This scene is east of the village of Honeydew.

Next is Mattole Beach, the north trailhead for a Lost Coast trek, which would last 3-6 days.

I enjoyed a cheeseburger made with local grass-fed beef, at the Yellow Rose, a bit up the road from Mattole Beach, in Petrolia.  Ironically, as I was driving out of Mattole Beach, I stopped as a large shape emerged from the roadside brush.  “It’s a boar!  It’s a bear! No, it’s an Angus!”  CaliMan behind me in a pickup, pulled out from the line and drove around me, yelling at the cow as he went on his way.  The RV driver approaching us gingerly made his way past the sizable beast.  Me?  I spoke words of farewell to Elsie, and went on to lunch.

After Petrolia, there is starkly exquisite Cape Mendocino.

The black rock beach speaks of ancient volcanic activity in the region.

The road from here leads back inland a bit, to Ferndale.  It is a steep route, with sheer drop-offs in a few places- so if you go, be alert for the cows, the CaliMen (they are still in a hurry, even on the curves) and the occasional slippery stretch of gravel.  I will write part 2 of this post tonight- concerning Eureka and Redwoods National Park.

Tuesday was one of those days when I had to make choices of elimination.  I could not get an Internet connection at the Abalone Inn on Tuesday morning, so I got packed up and went on with my day.

The itinerary called for spending the greater part of the day at Point Reyes, then going to the Heirloom Exposition at Sonoma County Fairgrounds, in Santa Rosa.  I found I was able to visit Tomales Bay State Park, Abbott’s Lagoon, Mc Clure Beach and Pierce Ranch, all on the northern side of Point Reyes National Seashore.  At Pierce Ranch, the battery went dead on my camera.  That killed going to Point Reyes itself; besides, it was getting past 1 PM and I had to consider traffic coming back to Santa Rosa from the Bay Area.

What I got from the day, though, was a greeting from a bull elk, high on a ridge, as I was in the canyon below, heading down to McClure Beach.  He bugled and whistled, several times, and stood watching, intently, as I kept on my way along the trail.

I also got a good introduction to some of the plants of Point Reyes, and how they were used by the Miwok people.  Here are three views along the trail from Heart’s Desire Beach to Indian Beach, in Tomales Bay State Park.

The trail shows how the Miwok used various plants found near the beach, for food, medicine and fabric.  An example would be the mountain blackberry, which has leaves similar to poison oak, but a rough-surfaced stem, as opposed to the toxic plant’s smooth stem.

Here are a scene of Indian Beach, and one of Miwok traditional housing.

Lunch was a new twist on clam chowder, Tomales Bay clam chowder, which has crisp bacon and a lemon-tinged broth, followed by dungeness crab cakes and a slice of Wild Huckleberry Upside-down Cake.   This got me through the rest of the day, and was served up at Nick’s Cove Restaurant, in the shoreline village of Marshall, northeast of Point Reyes.  I’m glad I opted to stay inside. A few others who went on the patio were being pestered by bees.  This seems to be a rather widespread issue along the northern California coast right now.  At any rate, my waitress brightened up, once she didn’t have to deal with the bees herself, as the outside guests came back in on their own.

I spent about forty minutes yesterday afternoon, at the Heirloom Festival, in Santa Rosa.  I got a couple of videos regarding soil and food production, from a natural foods perspective.  I also enjoyed speaking with various heirloom seed producers from northern California.  We have an heirloom seed distributor near my home.  He lives in Chino Valley, AZ.

I found few other campers, upon settling in for the night, at Standish-Hickey State Recreation Area, the southernmost park along the Redwoods Highway, between Santa Rosa and Crescent City.  A bonus was that I got to charge my camera battery, in the men’s restroom.

It was a fine end to a topsy-turvy day.

I rose early, as usual, this morning in Reno, and just savoured the fresh air and calmness that accent a weekend morning on the still emerging East Side of the Biggest Little City in the World.  I made the mental adjustments needed for our trip to Oakland:  No Carson City, Virginia City or Lake Tahoe, this time around.  We would not stop at Donner Pass or in Sacramento, either.   The time we had available, four hours from Noon to 4 PM, would be needed to get straight to Oakland, give or take a few minutes for a potty break.

The occasion this afternoon was special.  Along Oakland’s Lake Merritt, between 100-200 Baha’is gathered to walk the shoreline, commemorating the visit and walk here by Abdu’l-Baha, the eldest son of Baha’ullah, the Founder of our Faith, and His immediate successor, 100 years ago this month.  Tomorrow, even more Baha’is will gather in San Francisco, to honour Abdu’l-Baha’s visit to that stately gem of a city, a day or so after His stay in Oakland.

We got to Oakland in plenty of time to join in the opening prayer, then walked a 3.2 mile course, around the beautiful lake.  I was quickly joined by a friend from several years ago, who is a Baha’i in Phoenix.  “C” shared his grief from a personal loss, and I am honoured to have been able to help him through it, just a small amount.  I think, more and more, that we are put in situations where we can be of assistance to those in need.  How we handle such situations determines our own self-worth.

My friends from Reno, Tom and Michele, took to the route like hiking masters, though they hadn’t been on the trail in quite some time.  We covered about 2.75 miles of the route, before prudence took charge, and “Mima” Michele declared victory.  It was time for dinner, anyway, being nearly 7 PM.

I was delighted to also meet up with another Baha’i friend from the Bay Area, Marta R., and take a couple of photos of her family, with “C” joining in one of the shots.

Marta R. and family, Lake Merritt

Here is Lake Merritt, and here are my friends and I, honouring Abdu’l-Baha’s vision.

After bidding adieu to Marta, “C” and the rest of the Baha’is, the three of us capped a wonderful day with a Thai dinner at this fine establishment.

Gertrude Stein would be pleasantly amazed.  There is a “there” in Oakland.  “Mima’s” family can also be proud of her, for this was no ordinary effort.

I woke at my usual time, 6 A.M., in the Barbarella Room, at Atomic Inn.

While waiting for the coffee to be ready in the motel office, I took a stroll around downtown Beatty, and found these tidbits:

I moved on northward, about 10 A.M., and stopped periodically to look at the scenes of the Great Basin, and the mountains which hem this high desert in.

The small mining town of Goldfield lies about an hour north of Beatty.  It has public buildings of native stone, and businesses typical of a Western mining community of the early 20th Century.

Goldfield also has a fine public park, a bit off the beaten path, on the north side of town.  This was a fine place to have lunch and read today’s Las Vegas Sun.

Moving right along, I took this shot, just north of Scotty’s Junction, which leads to Death Valley National Park.  Notice the striations going  horizontally, across the mountain’s face.

My last stop, before Reno, was at Walker Lake, just north of Hawthorne, NV.  Here are two scenes without reflections, and one with the images of the surrounding terrain.

That was my journey for the day.  I arrived at the Smith residence in Reno, a little after 6 P.M., and spent a happy evening catching up on a dozen years of old times, since we had seen each other last.

I left my humble den at 11:30 AM, after carefully pulling every last weed out of the back yard, cleaning the house and making triple sure I had everything I needed for the month ahead.  Then I went and had my mail held, from tomorrow on.  Today’s mail brought a bonus- my paycheck from Chino Valley Schools!  I celebrated that by having lunch at Bonn Fire, one of the town’s good restaurants.

Pit stops for ice in Ash Fork and an iced mocha, in Kingman, kept me going until it was scenic photo time- first overlooking the Colorado River, near Dolan Springs, AZ.

I drove the relatively short distance that remained, to Hoover Dam, and walked around for about thirty minutes, taking a few shots of the engineering marvel-

and the Eagle Men:

With miles to go before I was to sleep, I stopped ever so briefly at the Boulder Basin overlook of Lake Mead.  Note the two pyramid-shaped islands.  One of them is named- Pyramid Island!

Feeling the heat (96 degrees), and not wanting to deal with traffic any longer than necessary, I drove through Las Vegas, without stopping.  I will spend a few days there next  President’s Day weekend (February), anyway- at Red Rock Canyon, Valley of Fire, etc.

My supper was stuff out of the cooler at a rest area in Amargosa Valley, and cold drinks from the Alien Cafe and Store, across the road.  The store clerk was facing an issue that hits a lot of us in rural areas:  Spotty cell phone service and bad customer service- Some of you might know the drill, “Want us to help?   You need to drive into town.”  (I have this issue with T-Mobile not being in Prescott, so Phoenix is the place to go for service.)  Her carrier is only available 56 miles away in Las Vegas.  Closer, though, is Area 51.

So, where do you suppose I headed next?

WRONG! 🙂

I am spending the night at Atomic Inn, Beatty, NV.  So, I still might end up glowing in the dark.

This day is among the more solemn for us Baha’is.  On July 9, 1850, Baha’ullah’s Immediate Predecessor, whose title is al-Bab, or “The Gate”, was executed by firing squad, after having been held in three separate prisons.

Al-Bab’s basic message was that it was time for mankind to prepare for One Who would unite the human race, by spiritual principles.  It was al-Bab’s purpose to pave the way for this Messenger, much as John the Baptist did for Christ.

As this was a challenge to Islamic orthodoxy, the mullahs prevailed upon the government of Persia (now Iran) to imprison al-Bab and oppress His followers.  This went on for about five years, and when the Babi Faith grew anyway, execution became the method of choice for “containment” of the new faith.

The Faith of al-Bab was succeeded by the Baha’i Faith, with Baha’ullah’s Revelation in 1853, while He was in prison in Teheran, for having followed the Teachings of His Immediate Predecessor.  The execution of al-Bab was only an accelerant to the growth of our Faith, first in Persia, then, gradually world-wide.

Between 200-300 of us gathered at San Diego Baha’i Center at noon on July 9. We offered prayers and solemnly reflected on the events mentioned above.

Before this solemn event, I spent some time at the nearby campus of the University of San Diego, a Catholic institution.  Here are some of the larger buildings of this venerable institution:

After leaving San Diego, I had the unique experience of stopping in Palm Springs, which offered a temperature of 116.  I chose not to take the tram up Chino Canyon, to the top of Mt. San Jacinto.  This was a budget thing, not  a heat thing.  The top would have offered  71 degrees.

Here are some photos of  the area.

I will go back and take the tram, right before New Year’s.

Now for the kitsch.

Marilyn was the first woman on whom I had a crush- at age 10.  It hit me hard when she passed on.

The heat was what it was, and 116 was not quite what she, Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis had in mind in the 1959 classic film.  I cooled off nicely with a seafood salad and plenty of ice water, at Blue Coyote Grill.

Most diners chose to go inside.  I found it quite pleasant, though, in the shaded courtyard, under the misters.

So, the day was an eclectic mix of sacred, profane and much in between.

So as to keep the right perspective, I will end with a house of worship in Palm Springs.

I am inspired by the workings of my Faith, awestruck by the power of nature and amused by the harmless aspects of pop culture.  Now, though, it’s time to stay close to home for a couple of months, and take the inner journeys offered by the “Song of Ice and Fire” series of novels.

Since Aram had today off as well, we made plans to attend a spiritual discourse by a Baha’i scholar from Malaysia, at the San Diego Baha’i Center, then go to La Jolla and see how many seals were spending the summer here.

The talk was on the subject of spiritual progress, both in this life and after death.  We believe one does impact the other, and that there is a connection between this world and the next.

After 2 1/2 hours of spiritual nourishment, we found ourselves looking about La Jolla for an equally satisfying lunch.  We found it readily, at The Brick and Bell Cafe.  The ladies go all out, with the quality of their food and the efficiency of service.  It’s a small place, but they managed to serve about 40 people, in the half hour or so that we were there.

We walked down to the shore and spent equal parts of time looking down on the ocean and surveying the seal population- most of which was in the surf, hunting.  Aram expressed happiness at having been introduced to this beach.

The white spot in the background indicates where a seal is near the surface.

The surf was not disappointing to either man or seal.

The rocks never are a letdown for our flippered friends.

After this, we went up to Torrey Pines State Beach.  Aram chose to delve further into a book he is reading, while I went into the surf a bit.  I have photos of Torrey Pines posted on my March, 2012 album on La Jolla.

We ended the day with light and satisfying entrees at the TGI Friday, in the Gaslamp Quarter.   It was time for Aram to head back to base, and prepare for another week.  I stayed at Parkside Inn for one more night, with a Baha’i holy day observance scheduled for the Center at noon on Monday.

Neil Young sang, nasily,but well, of “24 and there’s so much more”.  I want all that for my son, who turned twenty-four last Saturday. It was still early for him, when I broke camp, so I headed down Hwy 79 to Santa Ysabel, a small village where there is a mission to the Kumeyaay people.

I spent a few minutes visiting the mission grounds, then had breakfast at Apple Country Restaurant.  The story here is that someone stole the bells from the mission in 1929.  The clappers were found later, but not the castings.  The mission is open 9-5.  I was there at 8.

Here is the front of Apple Country Restaurant.  I sat at the counter, as I often do in such places, and enjoyed top-quality corned beef hash w/ scramblers, toast and coffee.  There were several people in hunting garb, and military camo, and a lone woman, who struck me as an artist or poet of some sort.  At least she kept to herself in the corner, and seemed lost in deep thought.  I know that feeling well. I headed downhill after breakfast, and got into the city around 9:30.

Aram and I headed first to Cabrillo Point National Monument, which commemorates the defense of San Diego during WWII.  Californians who were around back then would know of the attempted Japanese landing near Santa Barbara.  The whole coast was soon well-defended, following that aborted attack.

The lighthouse and defenses lie well above the shoreline.

Joao Rodrigues Cabrillo, whose name’s spelling shows his west Iberian roots, stands guard over the point which bears his name.  He captained the first Spanish landing, near Point Loma.  After this, we had a sumptuous lunch at Sushiya, on the sea level side of Point Loma.  Aram patiently endured my search for a motel, after my usual haunt was besieged by a convention of golfers, headed to Torrey Pines.  I found my new haunt, Parkside Inn, which is actually more centrally located.

With that done, we headed to Mission Valley Mall, and took in “The Amazing Spider Man”.  This sort of film always challenges my own acrophobia.  I have made a solemn vow to NEVER be outside on a building higher than 10 stories tall.  The inside of places like Seoul Tower, the Willis, or the Space Needle, doesn’t faze me.  Neither do the overlooks at Grand Canyon or various tall mountains.  Skyscrapers- forgettaboutit!  The film, we both agree, is a cut above the previous series.  Andrew Garfield is a more believable “teen”, Sally Field is always easy on the eyes, and Denis Leary is a great father figure.  The Lizard Man is also more plausible than the Green Goblin, unfortunate as that would seem.

We would have more adventure, and misadventure, on Sunday.

These next four posts are all the result of my being there for Aram’s 24th birthday.  As he  “grows up”, and the Navy calls his tune, I cherish any chance I can get to help him celebrate one of the happiest days of my life.

I set out around 9:30 A.M., and made the drive to Blythe in little more than 2 1/2 hours.  It was lunch time, so I went looking for the desert town’s best kept secret, after a photo shoot of the Colorado River, from the AZ side.

Once across, a quick drive down Lovekin Boulevard led me to my goal:

This fine little place does BQ the right way- slowly.  It offers St. Louis-style ribs, and a nice variety of other styles, all in a tiny storefront that seats about 25 people indoors and four outside.  Best of all, this is a sign that Blythe is coming back to stay.

I did my usual blaze across the desert to the Riverside area.  This time, I chose to head down Hwy 79, from Beaumont, through Hemet, and the back country of San Bernardino National Forest, to Oak Grove Campground, just outside Aguanga.

In Hemet, I spent about an hour helping a stranded motorist, near a spot often mentioned by a friend who lives in the town.

Stranded in suburbia shouldn’t happen to anyone.  Once he was safely on his way, so was I.  There were some fine orange groves, and wild back roads, waiting.

I was delighted to find Oak Grove Campground, right off Hwy 79, just east of Aguanga.  Here, I was lulled to sleep by the nearby crickets and not-so-nearby coyotes.

At 6 A.M., Saturday morning, I was up and ready for a day of celebration.