Category California

A Northern California/Southern Oregon Coast Morning

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The Ship Ashore Resort–their website says the museum and gift shop are “temporarily closed” but it’s been closed since 2013 so don’t hold your breath.

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After a solid continental breakfast, I continued to follow 101 up Oregon’s coastline. It was a gorgeous morning, overcast, the cloudiness and slight fog perfectly complementing the waves smashing into the rocky shore. As it was yet early, I was able to pull over and watch a whole family of elk grazing on the side of the road–thankfully, these ones were not as well versed in the art of setting traps as their other Oregon brethren. I don’t know if it was the time of day or the time of year, but the winding roads were almost deserted, which made for perfect driving conditions, one of those drives where I can just set the cruise control, pump up the jams, and make time, pulling over every once in a while to take in the view. It was just what I needed after the total shitshow that was the previous afternoon/evening.  It was only a scant two hour drive to the day’s first destination: Prehistoric Gardens. That’s right, strap in, because on Wednesday, we’re going to see even more dinosaurs.

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I left my hopes in San Francisco

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The primary reason I wanted to take highway 101 home rather than I-5 was that I wanted to see the giant redwoods of northern California. Those ancient conifers, those towering monoliths that you can sometimes drive your car through for an additional fee. It’s the reason we busted ass out of the hotel that morning, the reason lunch was a sandwich crammed down our faces in the car. All my planning and ass-busting, however, couldn’t compensate for the soul crushing traffic leading into and through and out of San Francisco. I watched the sun slip by overhead as we sat and sat and sat and knew that with it, our chances of seeing the redwoods were similarly slipping away. Sure enough, the last of the sunlight disappeared before we got into redwood country. Crap in a basket. We spent the rest of the drive pointing at shadows saying “Is that a redwood? I think that might be a redwood. Or an elk.” as a thick fog swirled around the car, making it difficult to see the road even three feet ahead. Between road construction, traffic, and fog, we didn’t check into our hotel until around 11pm. The next morning, the sunrise revealed a giant billboard pointing back the way we came, enticing us to check out the “trees of mystery”. Damn it. Damn it all.

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The Cambria Scarecrow Festival

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For the past eight years, the town of Cambria, California has been filling their streets with scarecrows for the month of October. They claim to have hundreds, a number to which I cannot personally attest as I didn’t get to check out every nook and cranny of Cambria and the neighboring San Simeon, which also participates. After gassing up, I stretched my legs walking Cambria’s downtown checking out their scarecrow offerings. I also checked out the French Corner Bakery to buy more coffee. Considering the pastry revelation that was Bob’s Well Bread earlier that morning, I wasn’t ready to try any other pastries, but on a whim, I ordered a torta, figuring that good bread was fully half the battle when it comes to getting a good sandwich. And daaaaaaaaamn, was that sandwich ever good! Fresh bread stuffed with juicy pork, thick slices of avocado, and pickled onions and jalapenos. YASSS. At least, that’s how I felt about the two bites I got while Jason wolfed the rest down. I’ve never seen a sandwich disappear that fast. We were still talking about how good the sandwich was as we passed by a place named “Hidden Valley Ranch”–was this, in fact, the birthplace of ranch dressing, AKA “America Sauce”? I don’t know, I was too busy talking about that sandwich to investigate.  Even now, fully a month later, we fondly reference that sandwich in conversation. Even now, when I should be talking about scarecrows, I’m talking about the sandwich.

Mmmm, sandwich.