Albion
The parking garage where I keep my car was going to be painted and I had to move it for the day. I thought it was the perfect excuse to get out of town for the day.
All I knew was that I was going North on the 101. I had been south and I pretty much know it all the way to Los Angeles. North, though, was mostly a mystery. I knew about the Muir Woods and Sausalito and Tiburon and the Sonoma and Napa wine valleys. I also knew if I kept going I’d end up in Seattle. I had no plan other than I wasn’t going to any wineries. I’m over the whole winery thing. I love the setting and all, and I don’t hate wine, but I don’t need to hover around in gift shops/tasting rooms. Sonoma and Napa were ignored.
I figured inspiration would hit me at some point and it did. A sign for Montecino and a different highway and the word West. That’s where the ocean is, I figured. And the PCH was probably down there somewhere–no doubt with a 20 miles per hour speed limit and a bunch of exhausted drivers.
I got off onto 128 West and soon found myself in Anderson Valley. It has its own host of wineries and breweries. I didn’t stop. 128 is a much slower go than the 101. I immediately found myself behind a logging truck. I was stuck behind it until it could find a place to let me go by. And logging trucks are huge, and hugely slow. All I could see in front of me was a large collection of tree cadavers.
At some point the air got warmer and the trees got bigger. I rolled down the window, a necessity when your air conditioner is broken, and found little relief there. Old barns and new ones lined the sides of the road. The grass looked a little thirsty and signs reminding people not to burn anything were frequent. At some point the trees began to obscure the valleys and I found myself driving into the Navarro River Redwoods State Park.
As I was driving along I kept seeing vague extremely large things out of the corner of my eye. Is that a tree? That can’t be a —then I’d look back at the road at some Semi barreling down on me. Luckily, there are many areas where people can just up and drive onto the shoulder of the road. (Whether designed for that purpose or not, that’s what people are doing.)
The trees are much more imposing than they look in this picture
I pulled off to the side of the road and turned the car off. The silence was absolute. The trees are ridiculously enormous and give the whole area a vibrant lush soft green-ness in their shade. It’s all or nothing out here. You’re either a massive thousands of years old redwood…or you’re moss. There’s no in between. It’s as if the forest had a lush green shag carpet. I walked out into the giant trees and the ground felt spongy. I had my camera with me and I took some pictures, and some video, but it doesn’t really convey the awesomeness of the trees. There’s a feeling you get that doesn’t show up on a retina display, no matter how many pixidigals it has.
My car, hiding behind a tree.
You could hear a car coming for minutes on end, the sound skidding off of trees and bouncing through the branches and echoing from everywhere. You’d hear the thing for days before you’d actually see it. Ten minutes of engine noise and then a small white car would swerve by. (I don’t know why, but this seems to certainly be a trend. I saw an inordinate amount of nondescript small white cars. Way beyond what I would think would be normal or even make sense. It got to the point I was happy anytime I saw a truck or any color other than white.)
What I liked about these woods is that the place was empty. The trees in the Muir woods are nothing to sneeze at, but it’s so crowded it feels like you’re going to the mall. Here, at least, among these spectacular trees, you definitely knew you were in nature. And the silence, it was mesmerizing. Entire families–even really squabble ones–I bet they’re struck dumb by the place. It’s hard to talk in such a place. It seems rude and inappropriate to do anything but stare. The tree tops were so far above me I couldn’t see them. They just grew and grew and then disappeared up there somewhere.
Up and up and up…
I reluctantly got back in the car. I kept finding places I wanted to stop. But I held off until I saw a sign for the Historic Navarro Gas Station. What could be historic about a gas station? I stopped and I can tell you this much: there’s nothing special about the gas station. It has a porch to sit on and an old wood carving. But that’s about it. Well, it wildly over-promoted itself and you can get Historic Navaro Gas Station t-shirts and hats. But I don’t know why anyone would want to. The bathrooms didn’t even work.
I got back in the car and found that I was getting closer to Montecino. I had no idea what to expect. I just liked the sound of the name, and I knew it was on the coast. About six miles past the gas station the trees shrunk and the world opened up. And I could feel the air cooling off and what looked like clouds of fog, and, in no time I was crossing the Albion river right on into Scotland.
Albion
And maybe I had: Alba is the Scottish Gaelic name for Scotland, and the river and the town named after it looked just like an out of the way Scottish coastal village. The ocean was suddenly right there, and the beach was filled with trees spit up on the sand like toothpicks.
I drove on. I was getting closer to civilization and now some hearty home owners had houses overlooking the white-capped foamy sea.
The town of Mendocino was disappointing. It felt too cutesy. I drove around the main block, with its arts and crafts stores and galleries and couldn’t help but think: I bet this place used to be cool. The Mendocino Inn looked like the greatest hotel in a boom town of the late 1800’s. The Montecino Music Festival was happening and there were white tents set up.
I didn’t even get out of the car. Even though it was small and quaint, it had a very similar vibe to all the cute little adorable towns I had hoped to avoid: the kinds of places popular with well-healed retirees and winophiles. Then, when I stopped at the Chevron station for gas, and saw it cost $5.85 for regular, I knew I needed to get out of there.
All in all, the trip – depending on the stops along the way – can be made in four hours. It helps to have air conditioning.
Here’s a quick video of some trees…
