In May we took a road trip up to Humboldt County. I went to school there and hadn’t been back in forever. Jack had never been so I was excited to show him the place that helped me become the vaguely political, feminist shit-starter you know and love.
Jack and I are no strangers to sitting in a car all day so we didn’t mind the 7 hour drive up to Arcata. It’s only suppose to take 5 hours but I was determined to hit up the Chandelier Tree and the Avenue of the Giants and the Loleta cheese factory and Nacho Mama and about half a dozen other places. In the end, we opted just for the drive-through tree and the Avenue of the Giants.
The first time I ever drove to Humboldt, my mom crammed me, Emilie and my Aunt Janie into her Buick and drove me up kicking and screaming. I remember dreading the trip; I thought my mom and aunt would embarrass the life out of me. I imagined them showing baby pictures to a cute campus tour guide and a hole opening up in the forest to swallow me up while the entire student body pointed and laughed. In reality, that first trip was the best ever – my mom and aunt forced us into every roadside attraction, every chainsaw sculpture ‘museum’, every Bigfoot gift shop. The places we stopped all those years ago are now at the top of my list for stops and every one is populated with memories of the people I love the most. I’m really thankful that I now have a good store of Jack-related memories too.
Unfortunately, my college chums are all spread out across the world these days so there was no one to visit when we were in Arcata. We did, however, get to visit with Moonit a few times since she lives up there now. It was great to visit with her and talk about how Arcata and the general area have changed. Some places are still the same – Redwood Hall (my old dorm) looks exactly the same as it did when I lived there. I half expected to run into the old set when I snuck in to look around. It was a fun bit of reminiscence but it felt lonely without my old friends to share in it.
One day we went to Patrick’s Point in Trinidad. I forgot how pretty it is there – it really reminds me that we live on the edge of a great big continent, next to a great big ocean full of promise and mystery. I was determined to hike down to Agate Beach and do a good bit of beach combing. Before we left I checked several places to see how steep the hike was since my ankles hate steep hikes. Everything I checked said the hike was only steep in one spot so I was really excited to go. In the end, the one really steep spot turned out to be the cliff just above the beach. You could either take a really rickety looking ladder down or scale a cliff. It was so frustrating that we’d just hiked down the side of a mountain and because I have the worst ankles ever, I couldn’t go down to the beach! Jack was a sweetheart though – he popped down and went beach combing while I rested and took some pictures.
On our way back to the hotel we stopped in Trinidad. I’d never really stopped there when I lived in Arcata and was pleasantly surprised to find it was bigger and nicer than I expected. I ended up at the smallest, quietest, most peaceful beach I’ve ever been too. It was a small cove and aside from another family, Jack and I were the only ones there. You know how they say that when you’re stressed, you should think of the most peaceful place you’ve been and go there? My new place is that little beach in Trinidad.
When we left, Humboldt was characteristically rainy and dramatic as we drove through Eureka and then the bay and lush green pasture lands around it. Earlier in the trip, we watched the kickoff of the Kinetic Sculpture Race with Moonit and her parents. When we left, we drove through Ferndale and found ourselves at the end of the event; a terribly fitting coda to the whole long weekend.
It’s funny – in the weeks before the trip, I’d started looking at real estate listings for the area. We could totally afford to move there I thought. Too bad we have our lovely house that we love so much!! When we first got notice on the place on Pine St., I thought there must be something in brainwaves! Now I know that Santa Cruz is my home thought Humboldt will always be incredibly dear to me – it was the first place that accepted me as I was and not conditionally. I can honestly say it was the first place I was ever truly authentic and truly happy.
(And I do see the irony that we are now back in the redwoods, surrounded by kooks, terrible music festivals and Bigfoot knick knacks.)
connoisseur of human folly 