California, part 1

California is one of the states I am most interested and most hesitant about seeing on my trip. I perceive the state as being so full of contradictions, but when I entered on Highway 101 and saw that the northern terminus is mile 836 or something, it occurred to me that in a state that is big enough to have 836 miles of continuous interstate in it, there's bound to be enough room for all walks of life and viewpoints.

Day 17, 9-26-008: Redwoods National Park and the Northern California Coastline

After crashing in a seedy hotel in Crescent City, CA for the night, I awoke around 8 and decided to photograph some big giant trees. Redwoods NP is in a few pieces, lining the far northern coast of California. It encompasses a large number of state and regional parks as well, but altogether its pretty much the same thing.

My handy National Geographic guide listed a few important turnoffs to visit and see big old trees, so I took off south. I decided to take scenic routes that are poorly marked and even more poorly paved. That my GPS lists the roads is a great help, as without it I wouldn't take such risky, unknown choices.



One thing that struck me immediately is that highway 101 is laid around the forest; the forest did not come to the road. Outside of a few trees in Oregon and some in north Michigan I've never seen any living object make a road move from it's intended path. The redwoods are large enough that their base is as wide as a 2-lane highway. The road is literally laid out to go around the trees. Hopefully that's enough emphasis on the scale of these monsters, because my pictures don't do them justice.



The next thing that struck me was the stillness, the overwhelming sense of insignificance that overwhelms you as you enter a redwood grove. Outside of a few far way bird calls there is no sound. None. The crunching of soft needles below my feet is deafening, even as my passage over them would be inconsequential under normal circumstances amid the hubbub of life. What's more there was a strong wind that day- blowing 20mph in from the Pacific. If I gave myself a neck ache examining the canopy I could see the fog and branches moving, but none of the normal sound associated with this phenomena reached my ear; it's so far up the sound doesn't carry. Furthermore that branches were probably swaying 20 feet or more, but at that scale appeared to not be moving much at all. Spooky.



The ferns in the lower image are now my desktop background. This must be where people go when they are looking for inspiration about primeval conditions.


I found a log sawn in half, and I had no other method of gathering perspective on it, so my camera bag did the job. It's about 6x8 inches square. That's one old tree. The lower pic of the canopy and such is of a named tree-that I neglected to write down. d'oh. Anyways, if you look closely where the branches seem to separate into a foreground and background around the trunk you can see where the trunk is actually fallen off; the background growth is actually secondary, having occurred only after the main trunk broke off. What could make a trunk like that break? Don't wanna know. The record this specimen set is by the secondary growth trunk, I suspect the primary growth was even taller- and it still set a record.

There are more Very Big Trees in the Photobucket entries.

Otherwise I drove south for the rest of the day after leaving the park proper. I was interested that highway 101 still passes through numerous redwood groves in unprotected lands as I traveled farther south. In fact I saw them all the say south for the next 200 miles. Evidently redwoods used to range across the entire continental US and Europe during previous inter-glacial periods, but by the epoch humans had stepped out of their caves in, world climactic conditions only favor their growth (ie lots of water. lots) in this narrow stretch of California coastline. Sequioa and some other type of tree in China are the only remaining members of this branch of the plant kingdom. Some more info.

I ate lunch in a Subway in some hippie infested town along highway 101 called Ukiah. The subway itself was a gas station too, and they didn't seem to have a clue what they were doing in terms of selling subs. The sub itself was pretty bad too, the bread was stale. Otherwise there were anti-war protesters clogging the main thoroughfare with hand drawn cardboard signs and dreadlocks. Some people have no idea how to protest effectively. But, there's culture for you.

I had wisely made a reservation at a hotel in Novato CA, north of the Golden Gate bridge for the night. I wanted to get there to watch the first Obama-McCain debate of the election, which started at 6pm pdt, so I had to drive past all the wineries. Altogether not a bad idea though, as all the tours cost money and the wine is no better than you can find in a store. But, still, oh well.

Day 18, 9-27-08: San Francisco and ouch my arches!

Waking at 7, I read some more post-debate bloggering, before showering and heading for San Francisco.

As I approached the Golden Gate Bridge I thought first "wow, it really is big" and second "wish I could see more of it from the stupid fog". Knowing it has a toll, I kept preparing to slow down and pay the piper, but was pleasantly surprised when not only did there not appear to be a piper on the bridge but there were no signs indicating you needed to pay to cross the expanse. Could it be that something in this trip would cost less than I thought??!

Not so much. $6 toll paid on the south pier. Makes me wonder what they'd do if I said I had no money to pay the toll-would they send me back to the north side?

I had found a parking deck online the night before, and my GPS led me right to it. Sort of. GPS is nice for finding a street address, but finding the entrance to a 2-block parking deck? Nah. I spend 20 minutes narrowly avoiding going the wrong way on one-way streets before I found and maneuvered my way into the entrance chute. In retrospect parking in one of the tourist lots near the fish market would have made more sense and been cheaper than parking in midtown SF (5th and Mission). Alas, those decks are not online, and I didn't want to drive about the notoriously finicky SF byways aimlessly else I run over a bag lady. Live and learn I guess.

I got out and walked. And walked. Eventually arriving at the famous 'Welcome to San Francisco' sign above the ferry docks. They had an open air market going on this Sunday, and some of the people in attendance needed to stay in the open air else they fumigate the room. Otherwise lots of interesting Americana and hippiness.

I then walked north along the piers, towards the fish market and Alcatraz shuttles. I discovered that even though Alcatraz is some sort of a national landmark, the tours are run by private groups. Something about their marketing ploy turned me off, so I kept walking. Alcatraz is on an island right? So it's not like it can escape for next time I'm there.

I kept walking, west this time. My plan was to wander semi-aimlessly in the direction of the Golden Gate then turn south and meander towards Haight-Ashbury to see hippie central.


I stopped for lunch at a tourist-trap version of the famous Boudin's Sourdough bakery, on one of the tourist piers (31?). San Francisco sourdough is famous because you can only make it in SF; the particular sub-culture of S. cerevisae (S. Sanfranciscus iirc).


Linkies, ..., ...., Microbiology of it

In any case, the bread was amazing, as was the clam chowder and club sandwich that came with it. Truly a good use of the funds.

I then walked down the pier amongst the rest of the tourist rabble, and found myself in a chocolate shoppe, perhaps the same one Mom had alluded to before I left.



This guy was tempering the chocolate. Yum. I controlled the sweet tooth though- or rather the exorbitant prices did- and I settled for a semi-nutritious meal of apple and chocolate.



I then watched the sealions carry on. The story is that after the 1989 earthquake the sealions began appearing on this pier for largely unknown reasons. Lack of food? Desire to belch at humans? Vanity? Anyways, it's become a tourist attraction, and after the Sea Lion Caves this is a better look at this family. And they still smell bad.



Anyways, I kept walking, eventually ending up near the Maritime historical park, which was free that day for some reason. I walked aboard the ships, and did that.

I walked to Fort Mason where they were having a Blues festival. Much nekkidness and suspicious smoke was afoot. Anyhow, I turned south and began scaling one of the famous hills towards Lafayette Park. The view was okay, but cars kept trying to kill me as I took pictures.



Otherwise, mischief was afoot. Or rather, underfoot. My feet started aching about here. This in and of itself is not uncommon after walking city streets for 6 miles, but man would it begin to haunt me.



I made it to Hippie Central. Ironically, or not, there was a Ben and Jerry's on one of the corners. Much body hair and suspicious smoke hung around here too. I supported the area's habit by purchasing a Chocolate Fudge Brownie cone that promptly melted all over my hands. And I had no napkins handy. Now who's the hippie! gah.

Now to get back to the car. Not wanting to rely on anyone or anything I decided to walk it. Bad move. While SF is a nice city it is on the large side, and the 5 mile return trip from Haight/Ashbury to 5th and Mission was a painful one. My arches, see. Having graduated from simple aching to genuine pain with each step, I was soon limping more than some of the bums. That's hard to do, believe me.

Alas, I was unable to figure out the bus schedule, and I suspect that even if I had it wouldn't've mattered that late on a Sunday, as I saw no busses go by. SF is interesting in that the busses are often 'Zero-emission', being powered from suspended overhead lines. Setting aside the absurdity of the zero-emission claim no busses were traversing the power-line equipped streets. Ack!

Well, clearly I made it back, but was walking gingerly for the next few days. I stayed in a hotel outside Oakland for the night, ready for the trip to Monterrey the next day. I stayed so far from Monterrey as the lowest rate I could find near Monterrey was $100 a night.

Anyways, aching arches in tow, I settled down in a fairly nice place and called it a night.

Til later!


/off to Bourbon Street.