Dispatch: Travel Days 101.2
Rohnert Park to Visalia. 266 miles.
But - wait. First a diner in Berkeley and reunion with tech friends. All the smiley people. And animated discussion of AR, VR, XR, IRL - all the realities - and what they look like. And what they do and why we’ll keep doing them.
Return to 101. Farmland and stuffland is all from here to there. Irrigate for agro. It’s 107 degrees at the gas station. Green farmland, white big boxland and dry, flammable beige in between. The in between being the primary color. $15 for 3 gallons unleaded. 30¢ for one gallon H2O. The whiff of water wars in the distance.
Keep driving. Must see those big trees. Why? Because they’re big? Don’t question my twisted sense of motivation. Highs of a different kind have motored all sorts of obsessive engulfing driving across this too-big-for one-national-park-land. This is an inheritance. Gotta catch them all.
Sequioa. Kings Highway. Climbing 1000, 2000, 3000. Temperature drops with each 1k feet. At 4k it’s only 100 degrees. 6 - 87. Clear and cool.
These giants. Fists of gods touching down. Golden Gate: we did that. Burj Khalifa - designed and constructed by a human. Build big and be comforted. But this mystery. Beyond control. It denies the setting of our correct proportion. Put it away. 6000 feet.
Sunset. Blood red. Moon rise.
Tomorrow for the trees.
Dispatch: Travel Days
July 11. 503 miles. Direct.
Or take in this scenery:
Begin sitting on the shores of Smith River. This chillin’ time commences with a crackle-bang of limbs falling from the canopy. “Widowmakers,” the loggers call them. Followed by tranquility along the remaining undammed river in California. The view goes straight down to the rocks. Virtual meshes don’t know what to do with this clarity and map them onto the river-textured surface.
Gas up at Klamath who’s lands we’re on. Masks enforced. “Please respect our community.”
Drive exclusively on scenic highways wherever possible. Howland, Drury, Avenue of the Giants. 503 miles plus.
Stop and get out for one last jaunt. Walk barefoot to better hear the understory.
Back to 101. From dripping greens to dry yellows.
Round about 8:30: Willets. Pull in to El Chicano across from Taco Bell. Leave the chains behind. Luis takes our order encouraging veggie mole from his grandmother’s recipe. As he distributes the checks a conversation about Anime between those who don’t watch “like normal.”
Arrive Good Nite Inn in Rohnert Park at midnight. Under copycat art prints on the walls sleep like a blackout.
Dispatch: Prairie Creek/Humboldt/Yurok
Briana at the Hiouchi Visitor Center set us on a path. A visitor demanded to know where to get this picture found on a postcard. Or it didn’t happen.
We traveled out. Oooooohhh. Aaaaaahhh. And had to run back.
Two hours down to Arcata. Mist like the haze you always want but can never have. Twin Peaks becomes clear.
Collect our fourth and back to Prairie Creek.
Cathedral Grove.
oh my
A friend in San Francisco said: “You go there and you realize we don’t need Cathedrals.” Or malls. Or cement. Or much of anything.
Oh my.
”The scale doesn’t make sense.” -Afsoon. Because the roots go six feet deep and hold up 300.
”Have to retune my ears” -Espii. Because the bird song and buzz song is varied and layered and ah you can still hear that car.
”It totally makes me change my scale.” -Aoshuang because. Well. We’re very very small.
Dispatch: Humboldt
Woke up yesterday morning Hidden in Springs along the Avenue of Giants in trees stewarded under the name Humboldt. A delayed flight granted time to meander through some pacific coast beauties. The mantra of this walk, “oh my… oh my… ohhhhhhh myyyy…” It demands to be murmured out loud. The older couple in the same beaming state of awe seemed to appreciate this as-articulate-as-it-gets voicing of our collective thought-stumbles.
Found Aoshuang and Afsoon up the north Coast of CA. Up the coast Steven at Thomas H Kuchel Visitor Center gave us all kinds of recommendations for big trees for low bottomed cars. Equipped with maps we kept on north.
The trees were calling so after some Thai in Town we jumped over to Jedediah Smith State Park. And oooooohed and awwwwed all the way. Until we got lost. Pro-tip: pin your parking spot. We hi-tailed it back past our photo-op cookie trail and found the vehicle at sundown.
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