Sunday, August 17, 2014

Redwood Forest

I have had that damn grade-school song in my head all day.

"This land was made for you and me...!"

I attribute this mainly to the fact that my iPod is ground into the pavement of I-40 somewhere back in Texas, and I still have not had the chance to load what little music I have on a flash drive onto the new one I bought in New Mexico.  Some good Led Zeppelin would have helped me out big time today.

I only got about 80 miles in Saturday night, leaving after 5 and going just far enough out that I wouldn't have to sell my grandfather's watch for a hotel room.  Cloverdale, is where it was.  Even at that, I spent $170 for a Best Western, but I'm glad I did because had I made a reservation at either of the other two places in that little town, I'd have gone back to Santa Rosa once I saw them, whatever the cost.

Once settled in, I planned today's ride and had a decision to make:  Cloverdale is at the junction of US 101 and a California state route that goes back over to the PCH (presumably an actual road that is not 6 feet wide and boulder-strewn.)  I could take that, or the shorter and faster route to where the PCH (California Route 1) returns to 101.  I opted for the latter, and in hindsight that was hands down the right decision.

Either route took me to Avenue of the Giants, which is home to the ENORMOUS, 1200 year-old redwood groves.  It was amazing (a word that Donna and I both dislike that is way overused) and warm, which is not to be discounted, and which I will get back to in a minute.)  I went through the drive-through tree and took a bunch more pictures, although I think I fried my GoPro camera.  I wanted that thing in the worst way, and in the rare instances when I've gotten it to work properly, it has been awesome.  Now, maybe not so much.

Once thoroughly amazed, I stopped for lunch in Fortuna, where my t-shirt clad body was suddenly getting quite chilly.  I put my leather jacket on, and continued north.  Sure enough, in minutes I saw the low clouds off to the west.  Fog, along the coastline.  It went from sunny and high 80's to gray, misty and cold within a matter of miles.  I had to stop again to put my winter gloves on 40 miles from my destination, and I arrived here freezing.  Glad it wasn't like that all day.

"Here" is the Curly Redwood lodge, which is really cool by the way:

This place is stuck in the 50's - the TV doesn't even have a remote - but it's perfect for the location, and it's clean.  Interestingly, it does not have air-conditioning, and has apparently never needed it.  I think the record high here is like 65.  I have the heat blasting.

I have a feeling tomorrow will be more of the same as 101 hugs the Oregon Coast.  Crescent City is the last town of any substance in California, where I have been for a whole week.

I'm betting against it, but if I'm lucky enough that the fog lifts, tomorrow should be gorgeous.

I miss my baby :-(

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