Wednesday, June 18, 2008
This blog has a new name and a slightly new purpose. I have decided to include some journal entries with my pictures. I hope you enjoy the new look and are inspired by the travel adventures of yours truly. My first entry is from last summer when a couple of friends of mine and I took a day trip to one my favorite places in the world...The Lost Coast...so...sit back...and enjoy.
August 4th 2007 entry---The Lost Coast
The drive to the Lost Coast in Northern California is one of the most beautiful and incredible drives on the west coast. The variety of landscapes, sights, and sounds make this one of my favorite day trips. During the three hour round trip one will travel through old growth redwood forests, see wild blackberry bushes and be enthralled by the sight of wild grasses swaying back and forth in the afternoon wind, and be humored at the sight of the locals who still continue to dress and act as if the sixties never ended. The Lost Coast is a “true” wilderness experience like no other I have experienced on the west coast.
The drive to the Lost Coast begins as one leaves the enchanting Victorian town of Ferndale which is located about 15 miles from Eureka California. The road leaving Ferndale zig zags steeply up through the forest towards a summit in the highest coastal range in California, the Kings Range. The road towards the summit appears much narrower than it actually is because wild grasses, blackberry bushes, flowers and other indigenous wild plants are attempting to dethrone man’s attempt to civilize and take dominion over the earth. It’s a game of the survival of the fittest and while the highway is winning today, a day will come, when the wild plants will defeat man’s attempt to tame Mother Nature once and for all.
Our car slithers its way like a snake up the windy road towards the top of the ridge. Finally, we arrive at the top. We stop, and get out of the car to look down at the ocean which is now thousands of feet below us. The wind is howling. I love the wind when it massages my face. Some complain, but not me, not even when it chills my bones. It makes me feel alive. The panoramic views at the top of the ridge are some of the most stunning views on the West Coast. On a clear day the view westward towards the ocean looks like a postcard one might find in one of the local souvenir shops back in Ferndale.
We get back in the car and descend steeply down to where the ocean meets the land. As we head down the road we are surrounded on both sides by meadows where the wild grasses are littered with white, yellow, and purple wildflowers. It’s beautiful. We also pass a number of barns and ranches which are not eyesores because their age blends together with the gifts of Mother Nature. As we approach the bottom we are greeted on our left side by the flow of the “mighty” Mattole River. Actually, it’s not particularly mighty but it does blend in nicely with the local landscape. As we reach the bottom we now follow the road along the ocean for four or five miles towards our intended destination. To our right we see the ocean battering the landscape. These are not gentle, rolling waves; these waves are crashing without any regard to their effect on the shoreline. The waves appear to have no conscious…they are simply following the demands and will of Poseidon.
We arrive at our destination, Mattole Campground. The campground is located right on the beach and is as primitive as the surrounding landscape. There are no signs of creature comforts here. No flush toilets, stores, telephone lines…Only a few picknic tables and a couple of pit toilets and a bunch of signs which read…Warning!...do not leave food out…bear area. Bears are common in the backcountry of the California mountains but this is the only place in California, I am aware of, where bears live and roam the coastline. Like I said, this is a wild place. My companions and I get of the car and we walk around a bit…but…on this day, we don’t travel far. In fact, after only a few minutes my companions get back in the car while I head out towards the ocean. The wind is blowing anything and everything eastward. The white caps on the surface of the ocean are too many too number. The ocean is fierce looking today and there are no signs of boats or anything else for that matter offshore. In years past I have hiked up the coast a mile or two in the black sand that is often found along this part of the coast. But, not today, today, I have to respect Mother Nature and my two companions who are now sitting in the warm car to see if I will come to my senses. Finally, I do come to my senses and join them back inside the womb of our convertible…and…We now head back up the hill towards civilization, back to the warm house from whence we came. Today, Mother Nature won the battle of wills, but next time I intend to win the battle by not backing down to Mother Nature by bringing my Columbia expedition jacket which can withstand anything Mother Nature throws my way.
August 4th 2007 entry---The Lost Coast
The drive to the Lost Coast in Northern California is one of the most beautiful and incredible drives on the west coast. The variety of landscapes, sights, and sounds make this one of my favorite day trips. During the three hour round trip one will travel through old growth redwood forests, see wild blackberry bushes and be enthralled by the sight of wild grasses swaying back and forth in the afternoon wind, and be humored at the sight of the locals who still continue to dress and act as if the sixties never ended. The Lost Coast is a “true” wilderness experience like no other I have experienced on the west coast.
The drive to the Lost Coast begins as one leaves the enchanting Victorian town of Ferndale which is located about 15 miles from Eureka California. The road leaving Ferndale zig zags steeply up through the forest towards a summit in the highest coastal range in California, the Kings Range. The road towards the summit appears much narrower than it actually is because wild grasses, blackberry bushes, flowers and other indigenous wild plants are attempting to dethrone man’s attempt to civilize and take dominion over the earth. It’s a game of the survival of the fittest and while the highway is winning today, a day will come, when the wild plants will defeat man’s attempt to tame Mother Nature once and for all.
Our car slithers its way like a snake up the windy road towards the top of the ridge. Finally, we arrive at the top. We stop, and get out of the car to look down at the ocean which is now thousands of feet below us. The wind is howling. I love the wind when it massages my face. Some complain, but not me, not even when it chills my bones. It makes me feel alive. The panoramic views at the top of the ridge are some of the most stunning views on the West Coast. On a clear day the view westward towards the ocean looks like a postcard one might find in one of the local souvenir shops back in Ferndale.
We get back in the car and descend steeply down to where the ocean meets the land. As we head down the road we are surrounded on both sides by meadows where the wild grasses are littered with white, yellow, and purple wildflowers. It’s beautiful. We also pass a number of barns and ranches which are not eyesores because their age blends together with the gifts of Mother Nature. As we approach the bottom we are greeted on our left side by the flow of the “mighty” Mattole River. Actually, it’s not particularly mighty but it does blend in nicely with the local landscape. As we reach the bottom we now follow the road along the ocean for four or five miles towards our intended destination. To our right we see the ocean battering the landscape. These are not gentle, rolling waves; these waves are crashing without any regard to their effect on the shoreline. The waves appear to have no conscious…they are simply following the demands and will of Poseidon.
We arrive at our destination, Mattole Campground. The campground is located right on the beach and is as primitive as the surrounding landscape. There are no signs of creature comforts here. No flush toilets, stores, telephone lines…Only a few picknic tables and a couple of pit toilets and a bunch of signs which read…Warning!...do not leave food out…bear area. Bears are common in the backcountry of the California mountains but this is the only place in California, I am aware of, where bears live and roam the coastline. Like I said, this is a wild place. My companions and I get of the car and we walk around a bit…but…on this day, we don’t travel far. In fact, after only a few minutes my companions get back in the car while I head out towards the ocean. The wind is blowing anything and everything eastward. The white caps on the surface of the ocean are too many too number. The ocean is fierce looking today and there are no signs of boats or anything else for that matter offshore. In years past I have hiked up the coast a mile or two in the black sand that is often found along this part of the coast. But, not today, today, I have to respect Mother Nature and my two companions who are now sitting in the warm car to see if I will come to my senses. Finally, I do come to my senses and join them back inside the womb of our convertible…and…We now head back up the hill towards civilization, back to the warm house from whence we came. Today, Mother Nature won the battle of wills, but next time I intend to win the battle by not backing down to Mother Nature by bringing my Columbia expedition jacket which can withstand anything Mother Nature throws my way.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Death Valley
It's summer time and summer time in my neck of the woods means "hot"...but...as hot as it gets in Bakersfield during the summer there is no place hotter in the U.S. than Death Valley. Two years ago I visited Death Valley during Easter vacation, when it is not so hot, and I took some pictures of the National Park during a time which is considered the greatest flower bloom of this century.
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