Tall trees on the lost coast

Eureka at 8.30 in the morning has very little open. I think they start the day a little later here on the west coast. So we settled for bagels at Los Bagels, kind of a Spanish-Jewish bakery. Seder plates for sale along with muffins and bagels with scrambled eggs. We then stocked up on food at the organic food co-op -- even bought organic amber ale from the Eel River brewery in Scotia, Calif. and headed south on highway 101. What a glorious day -- not a cloud and Norm in shorts and sandals. The day was looking good! We decided to head off 101 and travel along the coast. First stop, Ferndale. It was quaint, worn, old and at the place we stopped for coffee, they had no tea. Not a good sign when you are a tourist. So off we headed out of Ferndale up and over some coastal mountains. Norm was behind the wheel now. What a road! I will leave it to Norm to tell about  the adventure, tall trees, dead sea lion and more. Tonight we are in Garberville at the Best Western. I think he will also better explain the town than I ever could. Let's just say the smells lofting in our window are not from the fresh country air. -- Mary
We turned off at Ferndale, a bit of kitschy Victoriana -- claim to fame, they made a Jim Carrey movie here where the old local cinema features in the story -- but the real excitement started at the edge of town where state highway 211 climbs up and out of town, and winds down to the California coast about 30 miles later, past a few cows and ranches among the hills. They actually call this stretch the Lost Coast and its the right label. It's rugged and isolated, a few houses along a road that makes Highway 1 farther south look like a freeway. We passed several Slow To 10 signs, honest. We stopped to walk a bit of the beach, and noticed a strange smell -- which emanated from something resembling an old brown rug. A few steps closer, and we realized this was a former sea lion. Still had the lovely fur coat though.
The road turned inland and twisted towards Petrolia where they drilled oil successfully in 1861, but not enough dribbled out of the holes to make this Texas. Careful readers of this blog will remember mention of Honeydew, which we drove through (quickly) after Petrolia. More twisting and turning and climbing the coastal hills brought us down to Humboldt Redwoods State Park, and we walked through the Rockefeller forest. John D. III bought the trees to save them from loggers back in the 1960s. One of them is the Giant Tree, some 370 feet high. Also walked around the Flat Iron tree, which is so named because the cross-section of the tree is in the shape of an iron. Didn't see it myself, but the tree was definitely flat -- horizontal, since it fell over in 1991. What a crash that must have been!
Tonight we're writing from Garberville, population about 1,000, including many old stoners with ponytails, young backpackers with multiple piercings hanging around the main street who seem to have been just dropped off after working in the bush. Treeplanting? Grow ops? Not so farfetched -- the daily paper at Eureka had a front page story this morning about a group called Humboldt Growers Association getting started, and they weren't talking about lettuce or grapes. Medical marijuana is a growing business in California, and they claim the north coast grows the best crops.
Dinner was a bowl of soup in an Italian sandwich joint, while a guy played his violin from the balcony (see older ponytailed guys reference above). It was odd to hear him sawing away at Ode to Joy then a segue to My Old Kentucky Home and Over There. A century of favourites! -- Norm