Patrick's Point State Park & Trinidad (Pre-Redwoods)

8/15, 0826, Fisherman Restaurant, Crescent City, CA – It’s been a wild ride since I last wrote. And since there’s a misty fog and overcast skies here in Crescent City, it looks like I’ll have some time to write today. So, here goes…

8/16, 1553, Along the banks of the Rogue River near Agness, OR – OK, take two….I hate playing catch up, but I’ve left myself no choice.

Not long after hitting the road Saturday morning (8/12), I bid farewell to Hwy. 1 (a fond one, too, for it was a gorgeous drive) and started up Hwy. 101, which turned inland and headed into the foothills of the Coast Ranges. Almost immediately, I was in Redwood country, with groves of the giants appearing like giant ghosts in the mixture of coastal fog and increasing sunlight through which I drove. A little while later, I crossed into Humbolt County and followed the Eel River northward toward Eureka. I made very good time, between the early start and relatively light traffic, and after catching only feint glimpses of the Pacific in the distance, I started seeing more and more during a gradual descent into the Eureka/Arcata/McKinleyville area. Eureka struck me as relatively non-descript. It was a town along the way to Redwoods country and, to be perfectly honest, I didn’t really pay that much attention other than to note it’d been a convenient place to stay had I not been camping.

Trinidad, on the other hand, was memorable, but only because of two later visits during my three-day state at PPSP (just up the road). Because I had reservations, I checked in early to Patrick’s Point State Park and, upon doing a quick drive through around the Abalone campground, concluded that the campsite reservation website’s description was accurate and it was, for the most part, one of the less-desirable sites in the campground. That’s not to say it was “undesireable,” though. Just “less-desirable.” It was small, slightly sloped, and seemed all the more cramped by being enclosed on three sides by thick bushes, some of which were blackberries. In reality, the slope was not a problem and gave me a chance to test out sleeping with my head on the low end to see if my back responded better (no clear cut results to report on that burning question). I set up camp and decided to explore the park.

What an adventure THAT was! Each of the park’s coastal vistas was eye popping. If memory serves, there were about five coastal rock formations, all of which were well worthy of photographs and hiking/climbing (most prominent was Wedding Rock, a humongous rock outcropping with a trail cut into it that led all the way to the top). Patrick’s Point itself was also pleasing to the eye. The least “publicized” in the park guide was the southernmost vista, which seemed to be hidden away but was unquestionably the most beautiful of the scenic views. I must’ve spend 45 minutes just sitting there taking in nature’s artwork.

Perhaps the park’s most “famous” feature is Agate Beach, a long stretch of coastline with a first class beach (overlooked by high cliffs, no less) stretching northward. Agate Beach isn’t call that for “just nuthin’,” though. The beach was strewn with two particularly prominent features. First, beautiful (and surprisingly numerous) agates and stones the likes of which you see polished in gift shops and at arts and crafts shows. The second prominent feature was dozens of people on their hands and knees, laying down, or walking around looking intently at the stones that surrounded their feet. Now, at that point, to me the scenery was stunning enough. I’d later learn just how strong the power of the agate would become.

After some short hikes through the park and along the trails connecting all the coastal scenery, I decided to explore Trinidad. What a treat! It doesn’t have the Victorian charm or touristy attraction of Mendocino, but it is a quaint little village with tiny, informal shops, an active harbor/fishing fleet, and gorgeous scenery surrounding the harbor. I found a semi-reasonably priced patio restaurant and had their special, a snapper with Cajun sauce over rice with a salad. A cold Anchor Steam helped in the endeavor. I wrote a post card or two (one, of course, to my lovely wife) while eating and became involved in a discussion with another table about whether or not there was a difference between a raven and a crow. Ironically enough, during the discussion, one of the offending (and, it turns out, offensive) winged, black monsters (they ARE huge up here) made off with the top bun of a woman’s sandwich! I commented that the offending bird had to have been a crow because a raven – which Edgar Allen Poe (and the Simpsons, too!) so effectively put to literary use – would have too much class to do such a thing.

“They may say ‘Nevermore,’” I declared, “but they wouldn’t steal a bun top from a person’s sandwich.” Thank God my Poe reference was recognized. I literate audience is always appreciated.

(Note: As I write this on 8/16, the folks across from me are decamping – at 5pm? – and vacating their site. Damn! They possessed an infinitely nicer spot, too…with a river view. O, fate! Cruel, cruel fate!)

8/16, 1917, Same place – I also ascertained that there was, indeed, a coffee shop in Trinidad with WiFi. That was the good news. The bad news was they probably weren’t going to be open on Sunday morning until “9:30-ish, or perhaps after…whenever they decide to show up.” Well, who needs coffee at that hour? Besides, I was planning on being long gone by then.

So, with a load of what turned out to be “young” firewood (a bit of a pisser at first, but it turned out alright in the end), I returned to camp, watched a beautiful sunset from a precipice about a 45 sec. walk from my campsite, and commenced contemplation in front of the fire. Again, the results are still a “work in progress,” but we’ll eventually get to them.

I knew I was in for a treat, though, just based upon the state park. Next up, I invade the Redwood Nation.

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