Road Trip IX, Day 1-5: Making the Familiar Strange, from Lopez Island to Coast Redwoods to Oakland to Pinnacles National Monument

We can’t help it–but it isn’t all our fault that all our road trips begin by heading straight south to California. The Mate and I have too many loved ones in the Golden State, but Mother Nature sends us that way too. Only once have we dared heading straight east to Montana in February, and we were as lucky as we were stupid, that year.

Waiting for the ferry: “Get me out of this slush!”

Anyone who’s driven repeatedly over the same route knows it can be a challenge to find new things to focus on. Blogging simply ups the ante.

I have to admit, I completely punted at our first stop, Eugene. We were too glad to be off the road, too happy to see our dear friends, and too warm and dry to want to venture back out into the cold and damp to take any pictures. I got a little exercise walking around and around the ferry boat when we left, and that was it for the day.

But the next day, we were back in one of our favorite environments: the coastal redwoods of Prairie Creek State/National Park. On Valentine’s Day! Because it was too yucky to tent-camp (the only kind we do), we treated ourselves to one of the little, bare-bones cabins there.

I cooked dinner on that porch in the middle of a hailstorm!

That way we got both a hike AND a bike ride in the big trees. Now, I’ve taken a zillion pictures of redwoods. They’re each so unique, so irresistible! So this time, I tried to focus on other things, like the effects of weather. You always see those old, fallen giants…but we met a newfallen one!

TIMBERRRRRR!!!!!

When the sun did finally break through, it drew my lens even more than the trees did.

Aaaaaalelujahhhh….

But I still couldn’t resist this old beauty, just for itself:

Ready for my closeup

Next morning, we had the world’s best bike ride down the closed-off Drury Parkway: 13 miles all to ourselves, riding down the middle of the road, looking up at the gorgeous giants spanning every bit of space around us…

Wheeee!

Later that day, with our cousins in Oakland (when the sun finally came out!), I did my usual walk-through  of the Temescal neighborhood, but this time I focused on character. Literally. You know these signs, right?

Should go without saying, but, since apparently it doesn’t…

In Oakland, there are several of that type on each block. Then there’s the totally cool-looking Oakland International School (public), dedicated to immigrants.

More of this, please, America!

And out front, this enticing “golden box,” which, upon closer inspection, proved to be a tiny studio where they connect kids with people from all over the world to share stories.

And this

Next stop: Pinnacles National Park. Since we’ve been here before, I tried to make myself take pictures of things besides, well, the Pinnacles. Less obvious things.

Like…moss! Vertical moss.

Pretty sure I have a picture of The Mate in this trail-tunnel…so now it’s my turn.

Don’t know why tunnels are so fun, but they are.

What kind of pine tree IS that? I really should look it up. And look at that light on the rocks!

Whoa.

Okay, I probably have this exact same picture from 3 years ago. But he was probably wearing a T-shirt then!

Did I mention this is the High Peaks Trail?

Turns out there was a reason for the brightness of the light: contrast with the approaching black clouds.

Uh-oh.

And when they arrived, all that lovely sun went bye-bye, and we were suddenly being pummeled by hail.

Oh HAIL yes.

Then snow.

I feel ya, flowers! Hang in there!

At this point, I put on gloves and traded photography for swift walking. Time to get DOWN and get WARM. Are we in Southern California or what?

But despite–or perhaps because of?–the weather, I really enjoyed finding alternative foci for this entry…and hopefully you’ve enjoyed it with me. Happy February! See you down the road.

Road Trip VIII, Days 1-4, Tacoma to Oakland: Making The Familiar Strange

“Poetry is making the familiar strange.” That’s an unattributed quote I used to give my students, and it came to my mind as the Mate and I began the first leg of this, our eighth cross-country sojourn to North Carolina. It’s true that even though February travel argues for a quick race to the south, we have multiple routes available to us for that purpose. We don’t have to go Tacoma-Eugene-Redwood Coast-Oakland-Los Angeles. Yet we’ve taken that route six out of eight years.

That raises two questions. The first, Why? is easy: people. Specifically, dear very young people who are changing so rapidly that missing a year is like missing three, and dear older people whose health we never want to take for granted. We WILL go where they are, while we can.

…like these guys😍

The second question is tougher: how do we keep fresh our enthusiasm for this well-traveled route? And that’s where that quote comes in. In this first, familiar leg of our journey, I am giving my Noticing Muscles a workout, determined to keep the familiar strange.

So, walking in Tacoma’s beautiful Point Defiance Park, I ignored the shining trunks of the madrona trees to capture this bright red Oregon Grape.

Nothing like Christmas in February!

Then, instead of taking a classic picture of Mt. Rainier in all her fresh-snow glory, I focused on this cloud flexing its muscle.

We can do it!

In Eugene, walking with friends along the Coast Fork of the Willamette, I substituted a shot of moss-draped oaks for this intriguingly blank sign.

For when you’re feeling especially self-directed…

Not pictured: flock of wild turkeys.

Just before the California border, heading toward Cave Junction on beautiful US 199, we passed this sign (admittedly not our first glimpse, but I finally got the Mate to slow down so I could take its picture):

Apparently fully intentional—hey, let’s celebrate veggies AND dyslexia!

In the redwoods—oh, I have so many pictures of redwoods!—I forced myself away from the big trees…

OK, just ONE MORE big tree picture…!

ahem, I say, I forced myself to look down instead of up sometimes, and found…

British Soldier lichen!

And…

Tiny tree doing yoga!

Finally arriving in the Bay Area, the Mate and I went for a bike ride along the top of Tilden Park in Berkeley. And there…well, it’s not so much that my noticing muscles gave out, as that bikes aren’t the best mode of transport for photography.

So I had to settle for this fairly obvious shot:

Good ol’ Golden Gate in the distance

Not pictured: a pair of the glossiest ravens I’ve ever seen.

But no worries—most of the “view” I’m seeing in these well-travelled parts of the West are memories…and I haven’t found a way to capture those with my smartphone yet.

Road Trip VI, Days 1-3: Tacoma to Oakland: Pitcher Plants and Sticky-fingered Hugs

Two year-olds have their own gravitational pull. Two year-old TWINS have a pull exponentially stronger. That explains why, for the second year in a row, our road trip brings us first to Oakland. That’s where these cuties live–our pseudo-grandkids. (They’re actually some sort of cousin, but who looks at anthropological charts when they can look at these guys?)

These guys.

These guys.

But much as we’ve looked forward to being hugged with little sticky fingers, The Mate and I have not rushed headlong to Oakland. There are too many pretty places in between. After a short visit with vibrant old friends in Eugene, we zipped off the interstate and headed for the California redwoods, which exert a pull of their own. And that meant…

Oh boy! Highway 199! We love this road. From the bowl of Grants Pass (“Grass Pants,” to our family), it winds up through mixed-forest hills to the high valley of the Illinois River, near Cave Junction. Acting on a tip from a friend who grew up here, we turned off on Eight Dollar Mountain Road and went for a bike ride and then a hike-picnic in a very unusual ecosystem.

This place.

This place.

Pine trees + manzanita = Dry. Moss + pitcher plants (tall, insectivorous swamp-denizens) = Wet. This little mountain features both of them together. How weird is that?

These guys.

These guys.

Another cool feature of our outing: serpentinite. Yes, I did read the info kiosk that told me exactly what makes this glossy green stone so green and glossy–and no, I don’t remember what it said. All I know is, I picnicked sitting on something we dubbed “the emerald throne.”

This stuff.

This stuff.

And then, yes…off we drove to our happy place among the redwood giants, about whom I’ve written before. And from there along the crashing coast, back up and over the hills, moving through fog from redwoods to oaks to vineyards to the Bay. And the babies. Feeling gratitude for all creatures great and small.

The Power of Tree-hugging (Seriously)

Road Trip IV, Days 1-5:  Lopez Island to Oakland, CA

You’re going to hear me say this a lot: I love road trips. But I’d also better confess right off the bat: these days road trips induce almost as much guilt as joy. Across the U.S.? All that fossil fuel! A carbon footprint the size of Missouri. And for what?

Well, for love of friends and family and America the Beautiful. OK, we do have good reasons. But until I fall into the rhythm of the trip, my mind roils a bit. With those thoughts…and, these days, others, like…

Where are the proofs of my poor novel? I paid extra to have them shipped “expedited” last week. They said they’d be here Friday, so I figured Saturday was safe. Well, I gambled and lost. The Mate and I left Lopez Sunday, proofless. Next day my buddy Steve collected them from our mailbox and sent them on…to my son’s house in California. I’ll get them this weekend. But what if I don’t? What if my proofs just keep chasing me across the country? How will The Flying Burgowski ever get launched?

Or…

When am I going to get time to practice my guitar? I’ve set myself some ambitious musical goals, but our evenings on this trip are pretty social. Can I practice in the car without bashing The Mate’s shoulder, or driving him nuts with scales?

Or…

Is Duke going to cream destroy beat Carolina tonight? Will we be able to hang onto our good moods if they do? (Answer: the game was postponed due to snow, so stay tuned!)

Anyway, you get the idea. Apparently I’m a pretty shallow person, and road trips don’t seem to deepen me any.

Cue my favorite Transcendentalist, Ralph Waldo Emerson: “In the woods we return to reason and faith.”

Yessss. Trees. I need trees. Big trees. I need to walk among them, gaze up at them, and yes, hug them. So The Mate and I stopped to hike at Prairie Creek State Park, north of Eureka, one of our favorite stands of redwoods. It was POURING, but hey–what’s a better umbrella than a bunch of 200+-foot trees?

Sorry, I'm not much of a photographer...

Sorry, I’m not much of a photographer…

Have you ever had the chance walk among redwoods? Oh, I hope you have, or you will. Redwoods aren’t only grand, they’re grandly impervious. They heal themselves.

But at least you know I didn't just pull these pics off the internet!

But at least you know I didn’t just pull these pics off the internet!

And in healing themselves, they heal my thoughts back to quiet wholesomeness. Like church, without the fidgeting. I walked, I gazed, I hugged.

image

So, if your thoughts are dwelling in the shallows and you just want to get back to reason & faith, my advice? Go find the nearest, biggest tree, and…well, you know what to do.

...and when I get to North Carolina, I'll hug an oak! (Especially if the Tarheels lose)

…and when I get to North Carolina, I’ll hug an oak! (Especially if the Tarheels lose)