The Lost Coast

Well, we're finally back on the road, heading north towards British Columbia.  In the photo above, Cherie is standing at Cape Mendocino, the westernmost point of land in the continental 48 states.  It is located along the "lost coast", which is a stretch of the Northern California coast that extends south from the Humboldt Bay for roughly 80 miles to Shelter Cove.  I haven't checked carefully, but I'm pretty sure the lost coast is THE most inaccessible stretch of coastline in the lower 48. The southern section can only be reached by sea or on foot.  The remainder is accessed via the Mattole road, one of the steepest and most sinous country roads it has ever been my lot to drive, especially in a 25-foot camper.  So on this segment of our current road trip, the RoadTrek finally got a real honest-to-goodness trek.  But I'm getting ahead of myself.

We left the Bay Area last week and drove north on 101 to the town of Willits, where we took another country road about 15 miles east to a place called Emandal, which is a farm on the Eel river.  The family that owns it runs a small retreat/camp where you can stay in rustic cabins, swin au naturel in the river, and be fed organic delights in a communal dining room.  Emandal is the site of the "Wild Women's Weekend", an event that Cherie has been attending for the past several years.  Most of the attendees, including Cherie, are present or former obstetrical nurses and midwives at Alta Bates Hospital in Berkeley.

I dropped her off and beat a hasty retreat back to Willits and then drove over the coast range through a nice stand of second-growth redwood to the coastal town of Fort Bragg.  I camped at the Pomo RV park there for two nights in peace and quiet while the Wild Women were cavorting.  If you ever happen to be looking for a nice RV park in Fort Bragg, look no further than Pomo.

Fort Bragg is the northernmost significant town on Highway 1.  From there the road follows the coast north for another 50 miles or so before turning inland.  If you want to explore the coast northward from that point, you do so on foot.  I had a late but excellent seafood lunch by the water before repairing to Pomo for the evening.  The next day I explored Fort Bragg.  There's a quaint little railroad that runs across the coast range to Willits called the "Skunk Train".  It was originally built to service the logging camps up in the hills and it has been in continuous operation since 1885.  However, in recent years it has been mostly a tourist attraction.  If you're lucky like I was, you get the steam locomotive, No. 45, pulling your antiquated passenger car uphill along the Noyo river to a point they call "Northspur" about halfway between Fort Bragg and Willits.  In addition to a great view of the beautiful redwood forest,  we were treated to a rousing rendition of "The Wabash Cannonball", "She'll be Coming Around the Mountain" and other railroad-themed classics by our conductor, who turned out to be quite an accomplished performer on the guitar and harmonica.  At Northspur we all got out to have some lunch and wander about in the redwoods for a bit before reboarding the Skunk for the return trip.

After a leisurely breakfast in the Enterprise on Sunday, I bid farewell to Fort Bragg and wound my way back over the mountains to the Willits Safeway where I rejoined Cherie.  She had gotten a ride into town with a fellow Wild Woman, which was fortunate because although the road to Emandal was nowhere near as steep and winding as that which we were shortly to encounter, the last ten miles were unpaved washboard.  Not recommended for RV travel.  At any rate, after reprovisioning the Enterprise at the Safeway, we headed north into the redwoods.

We turned off 101 north of Garberville onto the "Avenue of the Giants" which took us into Humboldt Redwoods State Park.  The coast redwoods are sometimes confused with their southern cousins, the sequoias (see previous post), but there are significant differences.  The sequoias grow above 6,000 feet and thrive on the harsh winters, while the redwoods like the fog and mild temperatures near the ocean.  The redwoods are taller and skinnier than the sequoias.  But in terms of overall volume, the sequoias win hands down.  We turned off onto the Mattole road at Weott and drove through the impressive Rockefeller Grove before emerging from the Park and beginning our ascent through the King Range.

Halfway down the lost coast, there is a beautiful little valley where the Mattole river runs to the sea.  Near the mouth of the Mattole is the "town" of Petrolia where our friends John and Kathy have recently retired.  Petrolia consists of some farms, ranches, and houses scattered along the Mattole, together with a school, fire station, and post office/general store.  The adjective "remote" would be an understatement, because the Mattole valley is completely ringed by the steep mountains of the King Range.  There are three roads in, from Garberville to the south, Weott to the east, and Ferndale to the north.  They are all long, narrow, steep, and winding with lots of switchbacks and potholes.  We averaged about 15 MPH coming in from Weott and going out to Ferndale.

John and Kathy have been coming to Petrolia since the 70's, when they and a small group of friends bought some acreage up in the hills above the valley and built a small cabin.  More recently they bought nine acres in the valley and built a nice house which has all the modern conveniences:  electricity,  hot and cold running water, and flush toilets.  We visited and explored the valley with them for a few days before heading north to Eureka.  Both Cherie and I were impressed with the natural beauty of the area, but even more impressed that people would want to live that far from civilization.  It got us thinking about how differently people value things.  Different strokes for different folks.