Elk grazing along Highway 101. Just south of Crescent City, California
Northern California Coast (2004 Update)
On both of our trips to Ashland, we spent much of our time searching for some relief from the obnoxious heat (if we wanted obnoxious heat, we would’ve stayed in Fresno). So, when the weather forecast showed that Ashland would be just as hot as Fresno during our stay, I decided to make our return trip as cool as possible. That meant driving down the Northern California coast from Crescent City to San Francisco in order to take advantage of the coastal fog. While it would add a lot of time to our return trip, the extra time would be more than made up in comfortable temperatures. I’m pleased to say that the temperature benefit that I had anticipated did materialized. Additionally, the scenery was among the most incredible I’ve ever seen. But, the condition of the roads left so much to be desired that I’m not sure I’ll ever go that way again.
We set off from Ashland after another great breakfast at the Oak Hill B&B. As we had learned from the previous year, the best way to get to the coast from Ashland was to go north to Grant’s Pass, and then go southwest to Crescent City. With this valuable knowledge in hand, we drove up Interstate 5 to Grant’s Pass and then turned south on Highway 199 toward Crescent City. But, we didn’t go straight to Crescent City. Instead, we turned east when we got to Cave Junction, Oregon so that we could see the Oregon Caves National Monument.
The Oregon Caves are a marble cave complex buried deep in the Siskiyou Mountains. When I say “buried deep”, I mean “buried deep”. It’s about 20 miles from Cave Junction to the cave complex. And most of those 20 miles are accessed via a two lane road consisting of winding hairpins. Suffice to say, it’s not the easiest place to visit.
We parked in the main parking lot and walked about a quarter mile to the visitor’s center. Tours of the caves were leaving every 15 minutes. We purchased a ticket on the 1 p.m. tour. We walked back to our car and put on sweatshirts and long pants. Why? Well, the temperature inside the caves is a constant 41 degrees. Our attire for the 90 degree day outside the cave would not serve us well inside the cave. So, we changed our clothes and went back to the visitor’s center. By the time we arrived, our tour had just started to leave. We caught up with them at the cave entrance. After a brief safety lesson, we entered the cave.
I’ve been in a couple of cave complexes in my travels (Ailwee Cave in Ireland and LaFleche Caves in Quebec). But, I’d have to say that touring the Oregon Caves was much more like a “spelunking” experience than my previous cave visits. We went through several chambers, each decorated with very fascinating stalactites and stalagmites. The tour involved some climbing, some descending, and some ducking. I even got a bit wet. It was definitely the most interesting cave complex I’ve visited. The only downside to the tour was the guide. She took the opportunity to corner us in one chamber and lecture us on the cave’s “bio-importance” and how we needed to tell the politicians how important it was to continue preserving land for conservation purposes. I tend to agree with her statements. But, I didn’t appreciate being trapped in a cave, listening to her exercise her free speech rights.
Despite the political propaganda and the winding road, the Oregon Caves proved to be a worthy diversion. It has enough to keep both kids and adults fascinated for a couple of hours. Throw in the mountains around the caves and you have an outdoor experience that is sure to satisfy anyone looking for (controlled) adventure. The Oregon Caves are open from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. everyday except Thanksgiving and Christmas.
One of the formations inside the Oregon Caves. A Dianne Lima picture.
We left the Oregon Caves and made our way back to Cave Junction. At Cave Junction, we once again turned south on Highway 199 and drove toward Crescent City. Within an hour, we were driving through the majestic redwoods that populate the aptly named Redwoods National Park. I’ve driven through this park twice and have thoroughly enjoyed looking at the towering giants that line the roadway. One of these days, I’m going to have to spend some time hiking in this park to gain a real appreciation of this forest. But, this trip was not the time to take that hike, because we were on a mission to get to Brookings, Oregon. There was only one reason why we’d go back to Oregon; and that was to eat dinner at our favorite seafood restaurant on the southern Oregon coast: Scampi’s. About a half hour drive from Crescent City, we pulled up to the small, nondescript trailer that makes up Scampi’s establishment. We were happy to see that nothing had changed in the thirteen months since we had last been there. The small tables were out in front of the trailer, the owner was busy unloading the catch of the day into the kitchen, and the food was as tasty as ever. We each had the two piece platter for $6.95, along with a bowl of clam chowder for $3.25. The food was again worth the detour back into Oregon. I’m happy to say that I still highly recommend Scampi’s if one is near Brookings.
After our pleasurable detour, we set off down the coast. We soon crossed back into California, breezed through Crescent City, and started making our way through the redwoods. The diversity and expanse of the scenery was almost too much to take in at one time. One minute, we were driving through stunningly majestic redwood groves. The next minute, we were parked, taking pictures of an elk herd that were grazing along the road. A few minutes later, we were looking out over the gorgeously still Humboldt Lagoons. We then knew why Northern California is considered to have some of the finest scenery in the world.
So, if the scenery is so great, why aren’t there more people enjoying it? The answer lies in the area’s roads. Highway 101 is primarily a two lane road all the way to Eureka. The side roads that detour from 101 aren’t much better than dirt roads. The simple transportation system has limited the amount of people who can use or live in the area. And, I’m sure that’s just how the current residents want to keep it.
We made it into Arcada around 8:30 p.m. The setting sun had poked below the fog layer to light up Humboldt Bay. We drove around the cozy bay into Eureka. We thought about stopping to see the port area. But, because of the late hour, we decided to pass through and continue along to our destination: Fort Bragg. However, we did stop long enough so that I took over the driving from Dianne.
We drove about an hour south through the forests before reaching our turnoff for Fort Bragg. We had decided to take Highway 1 to Fort Bragg just so that we could drive along the coast. Of course, we had planned to take this drive during the daylight. But, it was now night. To make matters worse, the dense forest around the road had turned the area pitch black. Still, it seemed more expedient to take Highway 1 down the coast, instead of continuing on Highway 101 and then taking Highway 20 into Fort Bragg. So, we made the turn into the hills.
I knew I was in trouble when, one mile into the drive, I saw a sign saying “Curves – Next 22 Miles.” These weren’t just regular curves. These were 10-15 mile per hour hairpins: so steep that at times it seemed like we were turning on ourselves. Driving these curves in the pitch black with only the headlights to illuminate the area directly in front of us heightened the disorientation. Eventually, the forces of vertigo took over and my motion sickness overwhelmed me. We pulled over so that I could settle my stomach and my head. However, that action only introduced a creepier element to the scene. We couldn’t see anything around us. The canopy of trees was thick enough to block out what little light there was. The only thing we sensed was the sound of noises rustling through the forest all around us. Given these eerie settings, I cut my recovery period short and moved on to Fort Bragg.
Eventually, the forest gave way to a cliff side. The narrow ribbon of Highway 1 hugged the cliff tightly. Unfortunately, this meant there were plenty of curves to negotiate. These curves did nothing for my motion sickness, which just made my disorientation worse. It got so bad that I thought the ocean was rising up the cliff, even though it was still a couple of hundred feet below the road. Still, I thought I could make it to Fort Bragg. But, when the fog started covering the landscape, I became more disoriented than ever. I knew it was time for me to pull over and let Dianne drive the rest of the way. She got us into the Holiday Inn – Express in Fort Bragg at 11:30 p.m.
The cool air seemed to mitigate the throbbing motion sickness headache that I was suffering. But, it was more likely the fact that we had stopped driving that was making the headache go away. We went inside and checked into our room. The lock on the door wasn’t working; making our room a potential living room for anyone who wanted to enter. So, we changed rooms and collapsed into bed.
We were awaken by the sound of someone talking on their cell phone. They sounded like they were inside of our room. After a while, this person ended their call and we went back to sleep. About 20 minutes later, the same person received another call. Again, it sounded like they were answering the call inside of our room. This time, we got up to see where the sound was coming from. It turned out that, in our exhaustion, we had left the room’s window open all night. While taking this action provided us with a very comfortable sleeping temperature inside the room, it also allowed us to listen in on a person who chose to answer his cell phone calls from the balcony below our room.
We checked out of the comfortable, but unspectacular, Holiday Inn – Express in Fort Bragg and went back into the town proper. At night and in the fog, I couldn’t make out anything about the town. But, in the morning light, Fort Bragg struck me as a more run-down Pacific Grove. The buildings were the same as Pacific Grove, but they all looked like they could use a new coat of paint. We parked and walked around for a bit, looking for a good breakfast restaurant. We found it at Egghead’s. As the name might indicate, they are known for their omelets. But, I had a blackberry French toast that was simply heavenly. The food is so good that you may not even notice the Wizard of Oz décor that dominates the decorations. Best of all, the prices are reasonable. My French toast cost $7.95, while Dianne’s omelet cost $6.95. I highly recommend a stop at Egghead’s if one is looking for breakfast in Fort Bragg.
We started off south along the coast. The hairpin curves were still there, but they were not as prevalent as they were north of Fort Bragg. Additionally, we took regular breaks along the drive in order to mitigate any potential motion sickness from arising (no pun intended). However, there were enough curves and stops to make the trip down the coastline very slow going. This might have been a serious problem, had it not been for beautiful scenery that filled our windshield.
After about two hours of driving, we came across Fort Ross. I was looking forward to visiting this park, because it is the only Russian-built fort in California (and maybe in the continental United States). The Russians used this fort as their base of operations for sea otter hunting along the California coast. The Spaniards were never happy with this fort’s presence, because they saw it as an attempt by Russia to claim California. But, the Russians were only interested in pelts, not property. Consequently, when the otters disappeared from the area, the Russians left. After they left, most of the buildings in the complex collapsed. Today, there are just a few buildings that remain in the stockade. Those that exist are barely decorated. As a result, there’s a strange, haunted feeling that permeates the fort. There’s a vague sense that the fort’s residents have just left, but that they could be back any minute for what few things remain in the buildings. Despite this odd feeling, our time at Fort Ross was pleasant. We enjoyed the simplicity of the architecture and the feeling of isolation that covers the sight. While the fort itself didn’t convey much of the area’s Russian presence or history, the visitor’s center did a good job of conveying those facts. Overall, Fort Ross State Historical Park was worth a stop if one is in the area. The park is open from 10:00 a.m. to 4:30 p.m. daily.
The Kuskov House and the Chapel. Fort Ross.
After our tour, we started heading south again. A half hour after leaving the park, we drove into the town of Jenner. Instead of continuing down the coast, we turned east and followed the Russian River. It didn’t take long before the fog that had been cooling us disappeared, and the heat reappeared. The heat kept increasing as we passed through Sebastopol and Santa Rosa. Before too long, we were taking off our sweatshirts and making plans to stop somewhere for a cool drink. We saw the turnoff for Sonoma, and decided to stop in town to quench our thirst. I also wanted to go to Sonoma, because it contained the only California mission that I had never visited: the San Francisco Solano Mission. Unfortunately, we arrived about 10 minutes too late to tour the mission (it closed at 5 p.m.). So, we walked around outside its walls and took some pictures of the exterior.
After our brief stop at the mission, we started walking around the town. Like many European towns, Sonoma is built around a town square. The day we were there, a Farmer’s Market had filled the square. The sound of music and the scent of barbequed sausage lingered in the air. Despite the tempting sounds and scents, we decided to avoid the crowds and find a restaurant. We chose Mary’s Pizza Shack. It turned out to be a good choice. We ordered some pesto bread sticks that were unbelievably good. The pizza (a combination) was also superb. I recommend a visit to Mary’s Pizza Shack if one is in Sonoma.
After our dinner, we got back on the road. It wasn’t long before we had hooked up with I-80, then I-580, and finally the I-5 toward home. While driving that last stretch before reaching Fresno, I reflected on our trip along the Northern California coast. I loved the scenery and the cool weather, but I really disliked the curves and hills along the road. Still, did my dislike outweigh the boredom that I felt when taking I-5? I wasn’t certain of the answer to that question (and still aren’t). I guess that if one has little time, then I-5 is the way to go. If one isn’t in a hurry to get to southern Oregon or return from there, then an excursion along the California coast is worth one’s effort.
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