
























































It’s really hard to choose a favorite small town along the Pacific Coast from Central California to Olympic National Park in Washington. The competition is ferocious. Of the ones we have stayed at or visited on this trip, our favorites so far are Point Reyes Station, Mendocino, and Bandon. We could happily live in any of them. Each of these towns are easily walkable, have unique personalities, and feature incredible seashore scenery and wildlife. I might add that both Point Reyes Station and Mendocino have top of the line independent bookstores, a factor that Peggy and I always consider. While Bandon has a small bookstore with a good selection for its size, it is the town’s dedication to public art that stands out. We will be featuring four different aspects today.



























Peggy and I love to futz around in tide pools. There are always amazing things to see and unending drama. It’s a who eats who world. So far on our trip up the coast we had missed the opportunity. We were feeling deprived. Low tides had either been too early or too late. Bandon’s was perfect. We headed out to Devil’s Kitchen, a spot we had visited before. I had forgotten how the area got its name and did a search. Lo and behold, Google sent me straight to an earlier blog of mine. So I am going to quote the ‘expert,’ me: “It has to do with the cold waters of the ocean bringing a rich brew of nutrients to the surface that are eaten by plankton, that are eaten by small fish, that are eaten by bigger fish, that are eaten by still bigger fish, that are eaten by seals, sea lions, otters, and a whole host of seabirds, not to mention people and anything else that can sink their teeth into them.” Welcome to the feast.








































The six mile road into Fern Canyon from Highway 101, where Jurassic Park, The Lost World, was filmed, was about a mile from where Peggy and I were camped. We had to go! The first four miles or so of the road had not recovered from winter storms. In addition to being one lane, it was full of Jurassic-size potholes. Had we fallen in one, it would have devoured our pickup faster than T-rex.













AND A WRAP-UP
Peggy and I finished off our visit with a trip up to the Klamath Beach Road on the northern end of the Park. We had visited the beach on a previous trip to the Redwoods and found it covered with colorful small pieces of redwood that had been carved by the ocean. While the road was theoretical paved, it was equally rough to the road into Fern Canyon. Unfortunately, the access road was closed. The beach had been taken over by seals! We drove up to an overlook.























To truly get a feeling for the size of the redwoods, one needs to go for a walk among the magnificent trees. Words and photos simply can’t capture the awe one feels. Living in Northern California and Southern Oregon, which we did before moving to Virginia, Peggy and I have been privileged to visit the Redwood National Park several times. When we were planning out our 3-month trip up the Pacific Coast, there was no question that we would visit again.
















I’ve approached our trip up the Pacific Coast much differently that I usually plan our road trips. I made reservations more than a day in advance. In fact I made most of them three months ahead. There were three reasons: One, Peggy and I wanted to stay in places for one to two weeks. Two, Pacific Coast campgrounds fill up quickly, especially as summer approaches. Three, Peggy has never been totally happy with my day ahead—or day of— approach to reservations. (The first time we took a year off to travel in 1999/2000, I only made one.)
My choice in Fort Bragg was a little campground on the Noyo River, slightly off the main tourist route.









The river seemed the perfect place for us to kayak. Peggy was eager to get out. In fact, it was one of the reasons I selected Dolphin Isle for our camp. We pulled our inflatable Innova out of the truck’s bed and inflated it. We had kayaked with it for a quarter of a century in such diverse waters as Alaska, Baja, the Boundary Waters and the Everglades. For the first time ever, it refused to hold air. An internal seam had given out. We decided the time had come to retire Big Green and purchase a new kayak, which is something we have been talking about.

Peggy still wanted to explore the Noyo River, however. She discovered that a small, electric boat operated out of the Dolphin Isle Marina and took people on short tours of the marina and river. She signed us up immediately.




















I first learned about people’s passion for collecting sea glass from our daughter-in-law, Cammie. Our son Tony was stationed on Kodiak Island as a helicopter pilot for the Coast Guard and Cammie had taken up producing sea glass jewelry to sell. Peggy and I were invited to join a family outing to collect sea glass on a local beach when we were visiting. It was like going on a treasure hunt. The glass had once hosted a variety of alcoholic drinks in a local bar that overlooked the Pacific Ocean. Then the 1964 Great Alaskan Earthquake struck. It was over six times as powerful as the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. The devastation caused by the shockwaves and tsunami was massive— and it included the Kodiak bar, washing it into the ocean. Ever since, the Pacific Ocean has been turning the liquor, wine, and beer bottles into sea glass.




The story behind the glass beach at Fort Bragg isn’t nearly as dramatic as the beach in Kodiak. The beach was the site of the community’s official dump until 1967. The attitude up until then in Fort Bragg and numerous other coastal towns had been why worry about burying your garbage when the ocean will wash it out to sea. Growing awareness about the potential harm from the practice by the community plus pressure from the California Water Resources Board led to closing the dump in 1967. Degradable garbage degraded, non-degradable garbage such as automobiles and refrigerators was hauled away, and the glass, already on its way to becoming sea glass, was left to become more sea-glassy.































































