December 15th, 2007:Road Trip to Portland
Author: Kris
After a much longer stay in San Carlos than we anticipated, we finally finished up preparing Estrella for a year on land. The monthly boat swap was happening that morning, so we took an hour to pop over there and look for some good bargains. While there we bumped into our friends on S.V. Festima Lente. Adam mentioned in passing that we needed to pick up an inverter so that we could listen to my Ipod in the van on the drive north and Greg mentioned that they had one on their boat back in Guaymas that he would “make us an offer that we can’t refuse.” So once we buttoned up Estrella we drove down to Guaymas, whereupon Greg and Nancy gave us their inverter as a parting gift. They said that it would ease our pain, seeing as we were heading back to work. We said our goodbyes and started back through Guaymas.
We had heard from Raven that there was a good, reasonably priced restaurant on the main drag that served lamb. Adam had been fantasizing about lamb for several weeks, so we had to stop. Los Arbolitos was slammed with their lunch rush, but the service was still fantastic. I managed to spill a coke all over my lap while opening our little complimentary bag of tortilla chips, but the wait staff scrambled to get me and our table cleaned up before the food came. My camarones con ajo (garlic shrimp) was fantastic, but Adam’s lamb definitely stole the show, arriving on a sizzling plate, which promptly wafted up a delicious spicy aroma.
By the time we finished lunch it was already 2pm and we knew that we weren’t going to make it to the border. We hit the road and as the sun dropped below the horizon we arrived at one of the many military drug inspection stops newly set up along the highways in Mexico. We were waved into a parking spot and several soldiers winced as our surfboard grazed the steel frame of their canopy. Fortunately no damage was done to the board, and after a thorough inspection and several questions about or destination, duration of stay, etc., we were sent on our way. We made it as far as Santa Ana before calling it a day. Santa Ana is a small, sleepy sort of town so we just parked behind a mini-mart for the night. The next morning we hit the road bright and early. We had to stop at Mexican Customs to get our declaration form stamped, so we wouldn’t have to pay duty on the things that we were taking home and bringing back.
We were at the Mexican/US border by 9am. We had been warned that the border crossing was hellishly slow on Sundays, sometimes taking as long as 3 hours. Our wait in traffic only lasted 1 hour and after a brief inspection by US Homeland Security we were on our merry way.
We bulleted through Arizona, with a stop in Yuma to watch the afternoon Chicago Bears game, before continuing on to San Diego for the night. In San Diego we decided to overnight in the parking lot of the police dock on Shelter Island, where all cruisers stop on the way south for final provisioning before crossing into Mexico. We scoped out the dock for any familiar boats but didn’t see any names that we recognized.
We had planned to spend a couple days in So-Cal with Chuck and Gayle, friends and parents to Adam’s long-time friend Jeremy. Chuck is an avid surfer and Adam was eager to ride some waves. Adam had purchased his beautiful new longboard in Ensenada the previous February and was feeling chagrinned about never having surfed it. So first thing we headed to Pacific City to check out the surf at Tourmaline beach. There was a pitiful 1’ wave and we watched a couple guys trying to get up on it before opting for some blueberry pancakes at The Mission. Adam checked the surf forecast and saw that the next day was nice but that the following days were going to see some pretty big waves…too big for his skill. We called up Chuck and Gayle, who were camped out at Carpentaria State Park, and they persuaded us to hustle up there for the next day’s waves.
We spent the day driving Highway 1, checking out the California coast. After a year in Mexico, I was utterly shocked by the affluence of Laguna Beach and Dana Point. We were certainly the grubbiest car on the road, surrounded for a stretch of several miles by Mercedes, Beamers, Lexus, and Hummers. They highway then dropped us rather dramatically into industrial LA, which was a complete polar opposite from the nearby luxurious coastal neighborhoods. We drove through LA at a crawl and thankfully emerged into Santa Monica, where the highway begins winding along the beach again, pinned in by the Santa Monica Mountains. There were plenty of surfers out and we watched them catch waves as we drove past Topanga Beach and Malibu. The sun set and we continued on to downtown Ventura, where we indulged in Thai food for dinner. They had a tv on at the bar and we happened upon the 2nd quarter of a fantastic Patriots/Ravens football game. We quickly finished dinner and made our way down the street to the Star Tavern, where the game was on three screens. It really was a nail-biter of a game and the local crowd was in high spirits. The bartender, a bubbly girl in her early 20s, gave me a whole new respect and appreciation the art of bartending and earning tips. The bar was packed with single, middle-aged endless summer dudes and she had them buying rounds of JD and Patron with the bat of her eyelashes. When her Patriots won she bought the whole bar a round of shots to return the favor. The game lasted longer than we expected and we didn’t make it out to Carpenteria until about 9pm. We parked next to Chuck and Gayle’s RV for the night.
After breakfast and a nice walk Chuck was read to check out the surf so we loaded into their car and headed down the coast. We checked out several breaks but they were all a bit big for Adam’s newbie skills until we reached Faria beach. Gayle and I watched as Chuck and Adam hit the water, then we busied ourselves in Ventura for an hour before coming back to pick up the boys. A good time was had by all.
Carpentaria State Park is right on the beach and when I popped out of the van the next morning I could hear that the surf was big. Gayle confirmed it, telling us that water had washed over the barrier dunes during the night. We walked over to the beach and joined a throng of locals who had come out to see the waves. As I spoke with some of the locals I learned that these waves were unusually high, described by one surfer as a 10-year event. I met an EMT who had come out to see the waves and he said that it was likely going to be a busy day for them because a lot of surfers were coming out to ride the big waves. They had already pulled someone out of the water at Rincon on the previous day. As we talked the sheer sand bank only 4 feet from where he was standing collapsed, leaving him 2 feet from the edge. We watched as California slowly eroded into the ocean.
The waves were far too big for Adam so we all went to Ventura to check out the waves at the pier. There were huge rollers, something like 15’ tall, and there were hardcore surfers getting towed in by jetskis. It was our first time seeing people towed in and it was amazing to watch. After some time there we returned to Carpenteria and went to a nearby orchid farm. I read the book “The Orchid Thief,” during our time in Baja so I was really curious to see what an actual large-scale orchid farm was like. We toured their visitor’s center, walking amongst rows and rows of colorful cymbidiums. Many were very reasonably priced, as low as $10 and I was horribly tempted to buy them for everyone as Christmas presents, but the logistics of moving a slew of orchids in a van with the two of us, all of our stuff, and a cat were just about impossible. It was a lovely place to visit.
By the next day the surf was back to a normal size at Faria beach, so Chuck and Adam hit the water while Gayle and I went to check out a couple shops that she had been eyeing in nearby Summerland. We checked out a couple very fancy garden shops but the highlight of the trip was our visit to the Summerland Exotic Bird Store and Rescue. The building is a smallish craftsman style home hidden by tall flowering bird of paradise plants. The discreet appearance belied the utter cacophony that assaulted our ears once Gayle opened the door. The front room was filled from floor to ceiling with cages of all sizes. We were thoroughly inspected by a peach-colored Cockatoo who peered down at us from atop his cage. An impressive variety of parrots and parakeets inhabited the cages and we were amazed to discover that the side and back yards housed even more birds in large cages, many of them rescued animals. Thoroughly impressed, Gayle and I made donations to the sanctuary. If you ever find yourself passing south of Santa Barbara, I highly recommend a stop at this amazing shop.
The next day Adam and I left Carpentaria bright and early for Santa Ana. Our friend Tony hooked me up with a good deal on foam for new cabin cushions at A-1 foam, which we ordered from Mexico. The foam had only just become available for pick-up. Though we were loathe to drive through LA the sweet deal on foam and a possible visit with Geneva, one of Adam’s former co-workers, made it worth our time. We picked up the foam without a hitch, though we underestimated the dimensions of the sheets and how much room they would take up in the van. The 27” x 24” x 96” plastic-wrapped block barely fit into the van and it quickly became obvious that we were going to have some logistical problems with sleeping in the van. Delays in getting around LA prevented us from getting lunch with Geneva and we didn’t get out of the city until 4pm.
While we were in LA, Chuck and Gayle had moved their RV to the next stop on their vacation, Rancho Oso in the San Ynez valley, in the mountains above Santa Barbara. They gave us instructions on how to get there and we showed up at around 7pm, exhausted from a day of driving. We hefted the block of foam onto their picnic table and crashed in the van for the night.
Rancho Oso is a privately held ranch and RV park located 2500 feet above sea level, in Los Padres National Forest. We awoke to find ourselves surrounded by rolling grassy hills dotted by horses and wild turkeys. After a warming breakfast Chuck and Gail took us to the nearby Swedish town of Solvang. Since returning from Mexico I have been unusually impressed by all of the “cute stuff,” in the many gift shops and Gayle promised me that Solvang would cure me of my cute-itis. Indeed it’s clear that strict city codes keep Solvang ultra-cute. It’s a lot like Ashland OR, just replace all of the Shakespeare themes with Swedish themes. We passed through Los Olivos, a lovely artist/winery community, on our way back to Rancho Oso.
The next morning Adam and I brushed ice off our mammoth block of foam and hefted it back into the van in preparation for our ongoing trek north. Chuck and Gayle saw us off and we headed for Highway 101. We had spent five fantastic days with Chuck and Gayle and we had a great time. Though we had been cruising for a year it was often a lot of work, so a few days in Southern California with friends was a real treat.
After so much leisure, we really needed to make up some miles. I set us the goal of reaching Santa Rosa, one hour north of San Francisco, by evening. We opted to take scenic highway 1, which hugs the California coast line, so that we could visit Hearst castle if time allowed. Gayle and Chuck warned us that Hwy 1 was slow, but we didn’t anticipate that it would take us quite as long as it did. Hwy 1 is one large scenic viewpoint for miles and miles, at some points becoming a two-lane series of hairpin turns precipitously cut out of the sheer cliff wall. We stopped in Big Sur for lunch and to catch the Patriots/Steelers game. We found a cute little pub and watched the game with a couple Bostonians who were on vacation, which was extra fun. The game was a blowout so we left during the 3rd quarter.
We cruised the rest of the way to Monterrey as the sun went down. With the exception of an hour of gridlock in downtown San Francisco, we had a smooth trip north and arrived at Santa Rosa at 9pm. Adam had a gift certificate for a 1-night stay at a Marriott hotel (an award from Webtrends for his 5 years of service, which he promptly forgot about and buried on his desk…to be unearthed 18 months later), which we put to use in Santa Rosa.
After a bit of a morning lay-in and ridiculously luxurious (by boat-living standards) complimentary buffet we hit the road at 11am.
Highway 101 curved through the coastal mountains of Mendocino County and I enjoyed watching the landscape transition into the Pacific NW greeny goodness that I had missed. Our route took us through Humboldt Redwood State Park and we jumped off of Hwy 101 for a tour of the park via the famous “Avenue of the Giants.” We passed through Eureka and stopped for some dinner in Crescent City. It was 6pm and we didn’t have any plans for where we would sleep for the night. After some research into local affordable motels and state parks we decided to press on to Bandon for the night.
When we arrived in Bandon at around 9pm we tried to find a place where we could just toss our big block o’ foam next to the van and crawl in for the night. Unfortunately all of the public areas that I was familiar with had “No Overnight Parking,” prominently displayed. After an hour of driving around town looking for a secretive place to park for the night, we found a little grove of trees next to the community center that looked good to hide in. We tossed the foam alongside the van and called it a night. I said that there was a 50/50 chance that a local cop would kick us out at some point and sure enough, at 7:30am we heard a knock on the door. Adam peeked out and said “Yep, it’s a cop.” Fortunately for us, our visiting officer happened to be the nicest guy on the planet. We told him that we were just passing through and that we were on our way home from Mexico. The officer had worked in drug enforcement in Ensenada when he was younger, so we got into a conversation about Mexico’s problems with drugs and corrupt federales. In any case, the last thing he seemed to care about was us squatting on public property for the night. He remarked that he wished his wife didn’t get seasick so he could chuck it all and go sailing for a year. He actually said that we could go back to sleep if we wanted, which I did not expect.
I have fond memories of visiting Bandon when I went to school in Coos Bay. So I had a great time spending the morning strolling around, enjoying the local coffee shop and knocking out a little Christmas shopping. I didn’t remember Bandon having a dock, but indeed it did, with the usual scattering of old trawlers and fishing boats, and one ridiculously out of place 80-foot luxury sailing yacht. The yacht was decorated to the hilt with Christmas lights, garland and a full size white Christmas tree on deck. They had twined around the mast and at night they double the festiveness of the old town area. We hung around Bandon until 1:30pm and then departed for Portland. With the exception of a brief stop at City Subs, the single best sub shop in Coos Bay, we had a rather businesslike drive back to Portland. We pulled up to our new digs at 7pm and Kurt and Rachel, our new roomies, welcomed us in.
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