California Day 8...At the Stroke of Midnight

Friday 8/18/17

    At the stroke of midnight I was awakened by a familiar ding, ding, ding, ding sound.  The back of the Knights Inn sits along a set of railroad tracks.  The train engineer’s four horn blasts warning of a road crossing did the rest.  Even in the motel’s bed I could feel the vibration of the train as it worked its way past. Fortunately, the next one to come through was 7:30A. By then I was already packing up the room.

     Hwy 199 took me out of Grants Pass.  Just for kicks, I stopped for gas.  I really didn’t need it, but here in Oregon they pump it for you.  The attendant even cleaned my windshield.  Not too bad. Besides, I knew the price would go up as soon as I crossed the state line.

     Speaking of crossing the state line, I knew there would be an agricultural checkpoint, so I made it a point to finish everything before crossing.  Unlike the last few times, the guy simply waved me through. 

     While it was nice to put the smoke behind me, I drove into a fog bank as soon as I approached Crescent City, California, my home for the night.  My motel was right on Hwy 101 and I saw it as I drove past.

      My goal was a few miles south.  I was looking for the turnoff for Requa Road. Two miles up the road is a small parking lot and a trail down to Hidden Beach.  I had heard raves about this trail and the views.  Considering the view from the parking lot, I wasn’t holding my breath,

    Hidden Beach is three miles down a forest path that alternates nice and wide to thin and vague.  It was actually a nice walk, especially considering I had been in the car all morning. 

    At about a mile down the trail I started hearing seals barking down below,  Of course I couldn’t see them.  I couldn’t see much of anything beyond perhaps a hundred feet.  Eventually I did start hearing the crashing waves below and the trail began to level off.  I picked my way over some very large pieces of driftwood onto the beach.

     Sure, the view isn’t what I had seen on line and heard people rave over, but I did realize I had the damp, chilly beach to myself.  

   

     This was the first encounter with a driftwood teepee on this trip.  But, it certainly wasn't my last.  They ranged from perhaps two feet to eight feet tall.  It must be a west coast thing.

     On the way back up I did pass two small groups heading down.  I didn’t stop for photos since, let’s be honest, there wasn’t much to see.

     Once again I worked my way through the four construction zones and back to Crescent City.  I checked into the Front Street Inn.  It’s an older motel, but clean.  My only issue was the overwhelming damp feel.  One night was fine, but I wouldn’t have wanted to do an extended stay.   

     The sign on the corner said the motel was twelve blocks from the lighthouse.  It was late in the afternoon and I had no other plans for the day, so I grabbed the camera and started walking  Across Front Street sits a large municipal park.  It had plenty of people milling about.  It would be closed off in the morning.  But, not for any reason I would have guessed.

     Three blocks down I passed a bar with a For Sale in the window.  The sign out front claimed it was one of the “cleanest bars in the pacific northwest.”  I’m not a fan of filthy bars, but it did seem an odd selling point.

    I few blocks further I passed a place called SeaQuake Brewery.  They have a bar and restaurant attached.  So,  I went inside. Among their own craft beers was a chocolate porter.  I’ve tried quite a few porters and usually enjoyed them.  The toasted porter was still a favorite.  The vanilla porter had been surprisingly good.  This was my first chocolate one.  There was no chocolate flavor at all and in all honesty it did nothing for me. 

     So, I walked down to the beach with an hour or so to sunset.

     The Battery Point Lighthouse does do tours, but as the sign says, it’s only accessible during low tide.

       In 1855, the ship America burned in Crescent City's harbor.  Three cannon were salvaged from the wreckage and placed upon that rock.  They were never fired in anger, just the 4th of July and other special occasions.  Thus the name Battery Point.  Based on the look of the clouds, sunset could have been spectacular or a bust.

      There are a few signs near the base of the jetty warning walkers it can be slippery.  There’s even an easily bypassed barricade.  Families were even walking up and down.  So, I hopped the barricade and joined them. 

       

      These oddly shaped concrete shapes are stacked at the end of the walkway.  That's where I stopped.  There were a few fishermen who had climbed over them.  I wasn't feeling that bold.  At the end of the jetty sits the harbor's fog horn.  It was going off at regular intervals the entire time I was in town.

      As the sun set the other walkers slowly began abandoning me.  Once again, I had the place to myself. 

     With the last of the colors fading, I hopped over the jetty's barricad and started walking home. I did stop back into the brewery again.  This time for a Blonde Ale that was just superb.   The chatter around the bar seemed centered on the A’s and the Raiders.