As we crawled through the thick smothering forest of southern Oregon, the inherent beauty surrounding us inspired me to pull out my journal and do some writing. The increasingly elusive writing by hand. Because I never use a writing “utensil” to do my writing, my hand quickly cramped and I figured I’d just enjoy the damn view and write about it at a later time.
I apologize for the lack of posting. Life has overtaken writing recently, and I can't decide how happy or sad I am about that. I only know that it is happening, and it's the current state of my life.
So here I am, again on an airplane, this time headed to Boston, MA. And I sit right here, recalling the moment (on our second day of our great little road trip) when we left Crater Lake National Park for the northern border of California. Crater Lake is one of the "8 American Wonders” and the deepest American lake, caused by a unique volcanic eruption years ago. The beautiful blue waters were perfectly complemented by the land features and distinct islands found scattered across the lake. There was plenty of snow on the ground, and falling, which made me wonder how the weather conditions are in the winter.. But nonetheless absolutely stunning. I’m stoked that we got to visit Crater Lake, especially because Chloe canvased neighborhoods on behalf of Environment Oregon to help preserve the lake and its region that is being slowly deteriorated by the logging industry in the Northwest US. It was eye-opening to see the effects firsthand yet was also a phenomenal start to our five-day trek down the coast.
I apologize for the lack of posting. Life has overtaken writing recently, and I can't decide how happy or sad I am about that. I only know that it is happening, and it's the current state of my life.
So here I am, again on an airplane, this time headed to Boston, MA. And I sit right here, recalling the moment (on our second day of our great little road trip) when we left Crater Lake National Park for the northern border of California. Crater Lake is one of the "8 American Wonders” and the deepest American lake, caused by a unique volcanic eruption years ago. The beautiful blue waters were perfectly complemented by the land features and distinct islands found scattered across the lake. There was plenty of snow on the ground, and falling, which made me wonder how the weather conditions are in the winter.. But nonetheless absolutely stunning. I’m stoked that we got to visit Crater Lake, especially because Chloe canvased neighborhoods on behalf of Environment Oregon to help preserve the lake and its region that is being slowly deteriorated by the logging industry in the Northwest US. It was eye-opening to see the effects firsthand yet was also a phenomenal start to our five-day trek down the coast.
En route to California, we stopped in Klamath Falls, home to one of the more recognizable concrete skateparks in the Northwest. Being a complete skate nerd, I was beyond excited to session it, even if only for ten minutes. The locals were nice, and the transitions were gnarly, but there were lots of fun little things (and big things) to hit at the park. The rain eventually came, and we made our way along to a coffee shop to refuel and enjoy each other. We once again hit the road and made sure to load up a few podcasts for the trek. We eventually stopped in a tiny little town called Weed, CA. Weed was less than impressive as a town, but lovely in the fact that it is so close to Mt. Shasta. Weed, CA might not have a cool SnapChat filter to match its amusing name, but it's not far from one of the most amazing looking mountains I’ve ever seen. Many miles from the base of the mountain, one could see the behemoth of a geographic feature from all angles and with utmost intensity that is so difficult to describe in words. Shasta was definitely the widest mountain I think I’ve seen in person, and it just keeps going. The highway seems to wrap around it over and over again when you’ve only done about 35 degrees of the perimeter. Chloe bought me a keychain that says “I ❤️ Weed,” and we were outta there, headed further south.
At that stop, we simply got a snack and a coffee at the truck stop. Took our pisses and stretched out our thighs. But the night before we’d had a much different experience stopping for food. When we decided to alter our plans to stop at a hotel, there was a this tiny, woodsy, slightly sketchy-looking hotel with a restaurant across the street. There were signs that said “hotel check-in across the street,” so we hesitantly made our way there. Once at the restaurant, we realize that they don’t always get so much business. It was slow. They were closing soon. And the guy that checked us in to the hotel was also our server and bartender, in addition to his apparent role of single parent. Good people trying to make a living in southern Oregon. Deep in the Cascades, living on tourist dollars, and we were happy to pay a pretty modest amount for a room for the night. The cherry on top was the rustic pool table that we found at their bar, along with way too much Marilyn Monroe memorabilia that looked like it had been there since the 1960s. The following morning, a standard American breakfast was served for $6/plate, and we hit the road, content as could be.
Fast forwarding to our epic in CA, we’re driving through windy mountain roads in the Shasta-Trinity National Forest. It’s past 4 pm, so the sun is delicately filtered through the limbs of leaves of the trees in the forest. Light trickles in to our windshield and the road ahead, and the trip through those mountains was truly mystical. Thoroughly enjoying our time together and some damn good jams, we keep driving until a solid rain starts up again. Caused by the unfriendly precipitation, we decide to stop at a charming campground just past a huge mural of Sasquatch. The grounds are perfect. About 12-14 sites, each with a good bit of privacy. We drink a six-pack of local brew and indulge in Oregon-purchased cannabis as we dive into a deep yet playful conversations about life as the stars begin to take over as our main source of light. However, most of the night was damp with rain, a pitter patter of rain drop on the tent fly being a plus for us.
At that stop, we simply got a snack and a coffee at the truck stop. Took our pisses and stretched out our thighs. But the night before we’d had a much different experience stopping for food. When we decided to alter our plans to stop at a hotel, there was a this tiny, woodsy, slightly sketchy-looking hotel with a restaurant across the street. There were signs that said “hotel check-in across the street,” so we hesitantly made our way there. Once at the restaurant, we realize that they don’t always get so much business. It was slow. They were closing soon. And the guy that checked us in to the hotel was also our server and bartender, in addition to his apparent role of single parent. Good people trying to make a living in southern Oregon. Deep in the Cascades, living on tourist dollars, and we were happy to pay a pretty modest amount for a room for the night. The cherry on top was the rustic pool table that we found at their bar, along with way too much Marilyn Monroe memorabilia that looked like it had been there since the 1960s. The following morning, a standard American breakfast was served for $6/plate, and we hit the road, content as could be.
Fast forwarding to our epic in CA, we’re driving through windy mountain roads in the Shasta-Trinity National Forest. It’s past 4 pm, so the sun is delicately filtered through the limbs of leaves of the trees in the forest. Light trickles in to our windshield and the road ahead, and the trip through those mountains was truly mystical. Thoroughly enjoying our time together and some damn good jams, we keep driving until a solid rain starts up again. Caused by the unfriendly precipitation, we decide to stop at a charming campground just past a huge mural of Sasquatch. The grounds are perfect. About 12-14 sites, each with a good bit of privacy. We drink a six-pack of local brew and indulge in Oregon-purchased cannabis as we dive into a deep yet playful conversations about life as the stars begin to take over as our main source of light. However, most of the night was damp with rain, a pitter patter of rain drop on the tent fly being a plus for us.
The next morning, we woke up to a beautiful sunny morning and headed to a “secret” spot recommended to us by our campground keeper. The fog (clouds) were becoming more intrusive as we went further up the hill, so for time’s sake we turned around before the summit. But we did find a car, obviously after some sort of traffic accident down the hillside with its windows busted out and lots of items left behind in haste. It made me wonder what had happened and at the same time reminded us both to be careful while driving on the windy roads through the NorCal forest. Shit gets real. But god is it beautiful out there. We stopped at a few more view points and made a straight shot out of there for the coast. First stop: Arcata, CA.
Arcata is where I saw my first Redwood trees, and I was stoked on that experience as well. It’s really not so much the size of the trees (although that is quite impressive) as it is the texture and character of them that caught my fancy. Redwoods have a mystic nature and appeal to them that is unique to any other tree I’ve seen or touched. Forests full of them immediately made me feel like I was in a movie, and when you’re walking through the woods you’ll periodically hear the a heavy creak of one of the trees, as if it were trying to communicate. The voice is felt, and the Redwoods are very alive. In preparation for hitting the highway yet again, I wanted to get my legs moving, so we stopped briefly at the Arcata Skatepark, The park was essentially a crusty old concrete park consisting of snake runs and windy bowls without coping. But that was perfect for a roadside carve! And then it was off to Eureka...
Arcata is where I saw my first Redwood trees, and I was stoked on that experience as well. It’s really not so much the size of the trees (although that is quite impressive) as it is the texture and character of them that caught my fancy. Redwoods have a mystic nature and appeal to them that is unique to any other tree I’ve seen or touched. Forests full of them immediately made me feel like I was in a movie, and when you’re walking through the woods you’ll periodically hear the a heavy creak of one of the trees, as if it were trying to communicate. The voice is felt, and the Redwoods are very alive. In preparation for hitting the highway yet again, I wanted to get my legs moving, so we stopped briefly at the Arcata Skatepark, The park was essentially a crusty old concrete park consisting of snake runs and windy bowls without coping. But that was perfect for a roadside carve! And then it was off to Eureka...
Eureka, California is one of those places that I feel like I know even though I’d never been there. It sort of reminded me of a small town in the Thousand Islands region of New York, but with salt water instead of fresh and also real bums. Lots of cool art & chill people from my experience. But also with enough industry and opportunity to fuel the economy of a small city in the state of CA. We dined at Nooner Café, which was a true gem (take notes!), and went onward. At the gas station pre-next-leg-of-the-trip, Chloe and I met a man not far from us in age that needed help with bus ticket to see his mother in Santa Rosa, and so we helped him with a small sum and later learned that he grew up in Cary, a town very close to her hometown and not very far from mine. Small world! And good vibes...
Meanwhile, on the road south to wine country… Our goal was to find a nice campground in or around Napa Valley, the heart of the famed wine country that made our bucket list. We drove in the direction of Napa, almost to Santa Rosa, admiring each and every vineyard along the way. Which is a lot. The green expanse of wine production is pretty unbelievable at first, but I can both understand and am jealous of those that grew up within that. It’s such a great lifestyle to live: sustainable living, growing food, celebrating spirits, and leading a quietly rewarding life. It was a nice place to spend time as a couple, and the plan was to find a place to pitch a tent, but all the campgrounds were booked out. We probably should have known that, after doing some research, but hey. We got jipped. So we decided to drive to the coast in search of campgrounds more available. Although there was rain the whole way, we had a merry old time driving through the night storm to Bodega Bay.
Waking up at beautiful Bodega Bay was a real treat. We were in a campground without a view of the ocean, but as soon as we packed up camp and walked off a slight hangover, we made our way to the 1. Highway 1. And in this region, its stunning views of the Pacific from abrupt cliffs. Lots of wild gulls and other bird species were around to grace us in our time soaking in the view. Bodega and the entire surrounding area is a beautiful one but also a beautiful community. The whole region kind of reminded me of the scenery from the movie, Moonrise Kingdom (if it took place on the Pacific Ocean).
Meanwhile, on the road south to wine country… Our goal was to find a nice campground in or around Napa Valley, the heart of the famed wine country that made our bucket list. We drove in the direction of Napa, almost to Santa Rosa, admiring each and every vineyard along the way. Which is a lot. The green expanse of wine production is pretty unbelievable at first, but I can both understand and am jealous of those that grew up within that. It’s such a great lifestyle to live: sustainable living, growing food, celebrating spirits, and leading a quietly rewarding life. It was a nice place to spend time as a couple, and the plan was to find a place to pitch a tent, but all the campgrounds were booked out. We probably should have known that, after doing some research, but hey. We got jipped. So we decided to drive to the coast in search of campgrounds more available. Although there was rain the whole way, we had a merry old time driving through the night storm to Bodega Bay.
Waking up at beautiful Bodega Bay was a real treat. We were in a campground without a view of the ocean, but as soon as we packed up camp and walked off a slight hangover, we made our way to the 1. Highway 1. And in this region, its stunning views of the Pacific from abrupt cliffs. Lots of wild gulls and other bird species were around to grace us in our time soaking in the view. Bodega and the entire surrounding area is a beautiful one but also a beautiful community. The whole region kind of reminded me of the scenery from the movie, Moonrise Kingdom (if it took place on the Pacific Ocean).
The plan for the day was to spend a bit of time in San Francisco and head onward, as far as possible, toward Big Sur. Chloe had never experienced any of the city that is San Francisco. But the circumstances were prime, because I’d never had the experience of driving over the Golden Gate Bridge, which was an essential part of our day’s route. The winding road coming up to the bridge revealed some of the best views of the city I’ve seen. The magical San Francisco skyline remains nestled between hillsides and the bridge leading to Oakland, periodically peeking through, as if to say, “hello, traveler.” The drive across the bridge was impressive still, but I think seeing it from other perspectives is a bit more powerful. There’s a reason why no one sends post cards of the view from on the bridge… We proceeded to a nice viewpoint of the bay. Right near Baker Beach, there are several lookout points and romantic nooks that many don’t know the city contains. Standing there, with the 80 degree weather and light breeze wasn’t quite surreal but unquestionably calming and rewarding after over 1,000 miles of driving in 3 days. Further down the hills toward the water, we walked to Battery Crosby, a famous skate spot as well as a great view point for tourists of all types. With an unmatched view of the bridge from the west, a phenomenal perspective of the bay, and a flawless natural bank spot for skating, it just doesn’t get better in my book.
Every moment in San Francisco was soaked in like a happy, sunny sponge. And although we were only there for 2 or 3 hours, we made a true experience out of it. Now, onward to Big Sur!
Every moment in San Francisco was soaked in like a happy, sunny sponge. And although we were only there for 2 or 3 hours, we made a true experience out of it. Now, onward to Big Sur!
As expected, we did have to deal with a bit of traffic down the peninsula and south to San José, before going further on to meet with Carmel and even further, the untouched Pacific cliffs often talked about as if only a myth. Almost immediately after passing through the southern suburbs of Carmel, CA, we started to witness some the most impressive oceanic coves we’d seen so far (or ever in our lives). This may sound like the beautiful broken records you’ve heard from previous traveler friends, but that stretch of coastline really is majestic in the truest sense of the word. The stark, yet tantalizing, contrast of the grey and brown cliffs and the icy blue Pacific waters was unlike anything I’d ever seen (given travel all over the US west coast, Peru, Mexico, and Canada. The sheer size of the vertical drop to the water is something that can’t be touched in any location I’ve witnessed. Simply something you need to witness for yourself, the Pacific coast has some the finest gems I’ve shared with Mother Nature.
As we should have known, camping in that area was completely booked, and no breaks were given. We couldn’t find any campground with an opening within 50 miles, so we made the decision to risk ticketing and pitched a tent, cliffside. Chloe spotted a cozy little natural nook between a grove of trees and a wooded drop-off leading down to the expanse of ocean. Although our view of the ocean was challenged by the trees of the cliffside, we were still able to wake up to a partial view of the ocean. At night, we settled in to our tent porch with a bottle of wine and six pack of local beer. Deep conversation is made much easier with conscious lubricant of a bit of alcohol and view of the almost-full moon. many good times were had on the trip, before, during and after that night just south of Big Sur, and I’m infinitely grateful for all of it.
When we woke up to no police officer, we were stoked to say the least. We decided to keep driving south, as we needed to be “home” by the end of the day. So we hit the road, stopping occasionally at “vista pt”s along the road as we cruised along it. Each one more beautiful in its own way. when hunger hit, as it inevitably does, we stopped in a sleepy little town called Cambria for a deli sandwich and chips. Taking our time and taking in sun, we got back in the car. When we were cruising south with the windows down, Chloe’s driving, I spotted a beach full of seals to the our right. FULL of seals. So many that I couldn’t believe my eyes and sort of thought they were rocks or sand bags on the shore. Many of them weren’t moving.
We promptly pulled over to admire the masses of elephant seals that were molting on the warm beach. A knowledgeable volunteer filled us in on the situation with Elephant Seals and how they visit this area of the coast to molt away their “baby” skin and hit puberty in a safe place among themselves. These particular seals can hold their breath for up to 2 hours and dive as deeply as 2 miles to kill and gather food in the far out Pacific. It was so interesting to learn of this unique species, watch them fight, play and sleep, and simply admire tribal and instinctual behavior in nature at work. And, they had funny faces. So there was that.
As we should have known, camping in that area was completely booked, and no breaks were given. We couldn’t find any campground with an opening within 50 miles, so we made the decision to risk ticketing and pitched a tent, cliffside. Chloe spotted a cozy little natural nook between a grove of trees and a wooded drop-off leading down to the expanse of ocean. Although our view of the ocean was challenged by the trees of the cliffside, we were still able to wake up to a partial view of the ocean. At night, we settled in to our tent porch with a bottle of wine and six pack of local beer. Deep conversation is made much easier with conscious lubricant of a bit of alcohol and view of the almost-full moon. many good times were had on the trip, before, during and after that night just south of Big Sur, and I’m infinitely grateful for all of it.
When we woke up to no police officer, we were stoked to say the least. We decided to keep driving south, as we needed to be “home” by the end of the day. So we hit the road, stopping occasionally at “vista pt”s along the road as we cruised along it. Each one more beautiful in its own way. when hunger hit, as it inevitably does, we stopped in a sleepy little town called Cambria for a deli sandwich and chips. Taking our time and taking in sun, we got back in the car. When we were cruising south with the windows down, Chloe’s driving, I spotted a beach full of seals to the our right. FULL of seals. So many that I couldn’t believe my eyes and sort of thought they were rocks or sand bags on the shore. Many of them weren’t moving.
We promptly pulled over to admire the masses of elephant seals that were molting on the warm beach. A knowledgeable volunteer filled us in on the situation with Elephant Seals and how they visit this area of the coast to molt away their “baby” skin and hit puberty in a safe place among themselves. These particular seals can hold their breath for up to 2 hours and dive as deeply as 2 miles to kill and gather food in the far out Pacific. It was so interesting to learn of this unique species, watch them fight, play and sleep, and simply admire tribal and instinctual behavior in nature at work. And, they had funny faces. So there was that.
Further onward, the 1 South went inland a bit. For about an hour, we were back in the hills until we approached Cayucos. This picturesque town is built around a bay. A big bright blue bay with a humongous rock at the tip of one of its peninsulas which facilitates a sort of Jurassic Park ambiance. Truly amazing and perhaps breath-taking, we still needed to make it to LA County by nightfall. So we kept it moving all the way to Santa Barbara. SB is a beautiful town on the south-facing coast of Santa Barbara County that embraces all of the positive of Los Angeles without any of the negative. If San Diego were a bit more green. If Los Angeles were a bit more chill. If Eugene were on the beach. Stopping through there, even if only for gas and food, was nice. But then the heat hit...
I had totally forgotten that there was a heat wave forecasted almost perfectly to meet our arrival in Highland Park. And unfortunately for us, there was no working air conditioning in the SUV we inhabited. Windows down in slow traffic was what consumed our souls for the last hour of our long journey. The highways turned into lonely dirt paths, the street signs into somber signals, and the gas station marquees into mere mirages. Just kidding. We eventually did make it home, then immediately unloaded the UHaul, making for a sweaty evening, but it all worked out, and we had finally arrived home.
The typical sweaty hot move-in day mixed with the relief of homecoming nicely. We hung out with the other two roommates, catching up and hydrating appropriately. But with big smiles on our faces. For we knew that this was one of many more big adventures and just one of many many more kitchen conversations in this new home. Southern California is the current status. It might not be home forever, but then again nowhere really is. On this epic.
Excited to report more stories of times ahead... Berkeley this weekend.
- 7Ply Epic
I had totally forgotten that there was a heat wave forecasted almost perfectly to meet our arrival in Highland Park. And unfortunately for us, there was no working air conditioning in the SUV we inhabited. Windows down in slow traffic was what consumed our souls for the last hour of our long journey. The highways turned into lonely dirt paths, the street signs into somber signals, and the gas station marquees into mere mirages. Just kidding. We eventually did make it home, then immediately unloaded the UHaul, making for a sweaty evening, but it all worked out, and we had finally arrived home.
The typical sweaty hot move-in day mixed with the relief of homecoming nicely. We hung out with the other two roommates, catching up and hydrating appropriately. But with big smiles on our faces. For we knew that this was one of many more big adventures and just one of many many more kitchen conversations in this new home. Southern California is the current status. It might not be home forever, but then again nowhere really is. On this epic.
Excited to report more stories of times ahead... Berkeley this weekend.
- 7Ply Epic