I Stand Corrected

Not more than 10 days after I wrote about growing up on the beaches of Northern California, I was forced to eat my words. 

With Martin in Norway and abalone season open, my brother and I drove up to Sea Ranch to spend the weekend with the family.  The road there, Highway 1, was exactly how I remembered it…steep, windy and only for stomachs made of stone…thirty three years old and I apparently still get car sick.  Thankfully due to some unexpected roadwork, we were stopped long enough for me to pull it together before we had to pull it over for me to lose my lunch and dinner. 

The weather Saturday was expected - windy and cold - so I hunkered down on the couch to read a book.  And dinner of abalone was, as always, fantastic.

Everything seemed as it should be…but then Sunday arrived.  The day was sunny and warm…and seeing a rare opportunity, we headed down to the beach with Cassidy and Blake.   In less than ten minutes, I realized where I had gone wrong in my previous post.  My memories of the beaches weren’t necessarily of my childhood, but of my awkward teen years when all I wanted to do was lie on the beach, get some sun and ideally meet a hot young surfer (who would ultimately ignore me- the pale-white awkward teenage girl with bad skin and a uni-brow). 

Seeing Cassidy and Blake that day made me love the local beaches that much more.  Those two were captivated by the tide pools, the hermit crabs, the star fishes, sea anemones, and the seals sunning on the rocks and loved collecting shells, popping dried seaweed like bubble wrap and dipping their toes in the water.  They could not have had more fun!

A Day to Celebrate Me!

With my birthday falling on Friday this year, I decided to take the day off for a little “me” time.    The day started off with CORE training in the morning where I had my ass kicked by a tall, beautiful British woman, telling me to keep going despite the fact I was sweating buckets and panting like a dog. (On a side note, I woke up the following morning more sore than after running the half marathon for my 30^th birthday…I seriously couldn’t walk).     

After breakfast at home (to replenish the calories exerted in the class) Martin and I then had our muscles beat into submission during an hour Thai Massage, where a little Thai man walked on my back and brought me to near tears…I hadn’t planned on an international ass-kicking, but that is apparently what I signed up for.

We followed the massages with a lovely late lunch in the back patio of Arlequin, a French bistro in Hayes Valley and began happy hour with McKane shortly thereafter at Tacolicious in North Beach.  Happy Hour turned into dinner of queso, churros and margaritas and progressed into an early evening of Karaoke at the Bow Bow Cocktail Lounge in China Town, where Mama Candy the bartender kept the drinks flowing and took shots with everyone who entered the bar.   Martin even sang a few songs that night (including Sinead O’Conner’s Nothing Compares)…thinking about it now, I guess I shouldn’t have been entirely surprised at his hang over the following day. 

Looking back at the past few birthdays (celebrations in Zurich, France, New York, tearing out walls in our new home and getting engaged) I wasn’t expecting much from a quiet day off in San Francisco.  Little did I know that this birthday would go down as a favorite and would be just as exotic as the rest.

Three Days in Northern California

With work on overload and the Germany wedding planning in full swing, Martin and I needed a weekend away for just the two of us.  I was looking for something relaxing; he was looking for something outdoorsy.  Different ideas were thrown out but in the end we decided on celebrating our Labor Day weekend in Northern California: one night at a B&B in Mendocino and two nights camping in Humboldt State Park.  It was exactly what we needed.

Home Grown in Mendo

Mendocino County is known for its waves, wines and wilderness…at least that is what the sign says upon entering the county; most people know it for their pot.  My childhood memories of the county are split between spending time at the Lake and on the coast for my dad to abalone dive.  While most kids’ idea of going to the beach includes running from the car straight to the water while the parents lugged the cooler, umbrella, chairs, towels and toys behind, playing in the waves, building sandcastles and trying to avoid the five minutes of staying still while mom slathered you up with sunscreen as other kids ran around screaming and laughing…growing up on the beaches of Northern California, going to the beach was slightly different. 

The trek to the beach involved treacherous, narrow paths along steep seaside cliffs and few people around to help if and when you lost your footing.  Carrying coolers, chairs and umbrellas were just not an option as they could disrupt the balance required to navigate the paths.  Not that it really mattered, since once to the beach, the gear wasn’t needed…the “beach” typically consisted of a narrow stretch of rocks above the fridge waters and wet sand if it was low tide.  No beach to layout on or sand to make sandcastles with, no running in to the waves, and definitely no other kids.  Nope, we would sit on the rocks while my dad dove and if we were lucky, there would be nearby tide-pools to look into for unknown creatures (typically seaweed and star fishes).  And whatever you did, you did not get wet…on a good day, the weather would be foggy and cold; on a bad day it would be foggy, cold and windy.  Even with the multiple layers of sweatshirts, I was inevitably always cold.

All this is to say that upon heading back to Mendocino with its jagged cliffs, foggy days and smell of the ocean made me feel right at home…a sense of my childhood restored and with the added bonus of a new appreciation for the coast and all of the memories growing up. 

With the five hour drive completed (thanks in part to the holiday traffic and the bay bridge closure) we arrived in the sleepy coastal town of Mendocino just in time to drop our bags and head out to dinner before all of the restaurants (and entire town) shut down at nine pm.  With empty stomachs and fear of going to bed hungry, we made a beeline for the two recommended restaurants, having no time to take in the town’s sites and explore along the way.  Dinner turned out to be a two hour dining experience at Café Beaujolais, with each course a surprise of high quality ingredients and cooking perfection.  A bottle of local wine started us off, rolling into a perfectly seasoned beef tartar and a refreshingly new take on the standard beet and goat cheese salad (topped with fried polenta).  Dinner was an easy choice: Martin with the filet and mashed potatoes, me with the lamb, red wine reduction sauce and English pea risotto.   Dinner was rounded out with dessert, coffee and conversation…our first great meal together in six weeks and it happened five hours north of the alleged gourmet ghetto.

Too full for exploring on the way back, we made a quick stroll through town to get our bearings and went straight to bed.

A “World Famous” Drive

We woke up Saturday morning with a slight food hangover and the inevitable hunger pains that go along with it.  Thankfully our B&B, the Joshua Grindle, offered us a beautiful breakfast of corn and green chili soufflé, fruit and coffee to get us through the morning.  

Fully recharged we took the opportunity to explore the town and surrounding coast.  The coastline was exactly how I remembered it, rugged, barren, and uninviting in a “not for the faint of heart” way…for those willing to give it time, the layer of fog becomes a familiar security blanket that is preferable over the crowded and hot sandy beaches expected of California.    Unfortunately, it was still slightly too cold for the beach (although it was above the seasonal average) so we packed up the car and began the journey even further north to Humboldt State Park.  

Our quick stroll along the coastline

The drive took us north on Highway 1, through Fort Bragg and along the coast, and then cut inland to rejoin with Highway 101 near Leggett, home of the World Famous Drive Through Tree!  Unfortunately due to Labor Day weekend, the wait to actually experience the drive was over an hour, and while it would make for a fun story, it was not on the agenda to wait it out.  Little did we know that we were in store for plenty of other “world famous” sites and activities!  In just a 60 minute drive we passed the World Famous Tree House, World Famous Grandfather Tree, Confusion Hill activity and amusement area, The Legend of Bigfoot, and the Famous One Log House (not yet world famous). 

Our drive ended on the Avenue of the Giants, the world famous scenic drive and alternative route to Highway 101, which takes you through the giant redwoods and into Humboldt State Park. 

After unpacking our campsite (and inspecting and admiring all of our new camping gear thanks to the generous wedding gifts) Martin and I took a quick walk into the “town” of Myers Flats for bug spray and matches (the two things we managed to forget when packing) and a quick detour to the river for some sun and water.   

We went to bed earlier than expected due to the anticipated hike the next day, but not after our gourmet meal of steak, Greek salad, and bottle of red wine.  While not on a gourmet level with Café Beaujolais, it was still enjoyable and memorable nonetheless.