Humboldt Views

Fog is pervasive on the Humboldt coast.  It's most common in summer but occurs year round, as seen here in February at Patricks Point State Park.  These trees, only a couple hundred yards from the ocean, are Sitka spruce; they're salt tolerant, unlike redwoods which grow farther inland.

Winter reveals the gnarled branches of the coastal shrub trees.

These are homes in a reconstructed Yurok village at Patricks Point.  The Yuroks still use these structures for ceremonial occasions.  The entrances are the holes near the ground...you have to crawl into the structure.  Not easy if you're fat and/or old...I guess the Yuroks are in good shape. 

Arcata, like many towns in Humboldt county, has many cool Victorian structures that have been nicely maintained in recent years.  This home is a B&B.

A nurse log provides a home for redwood sorrel in the forest of Humboldt Redwoods SP.  This log has gone down fairly recently, so doesn't have many plants growing on it yet.

The trail winds quietly through the majestic forest.

The redwoods in the state park are protected, but before the park was established a few of the huge trees were logged.  For perspective, this stump is about ten feet high.  In the days before mechanized logging, to cut down a massive tree more easily, loggers cut notches in the base and inserted planks.  The loggers stood on the boards and sawed higher up, where the stump was much narrower than at the ground..

A towering redwood soars into the mist.

The wild northern shore, shrouded in fog and mist. 

The Mystical North Coast

I'm on the Humboldt coast in far Northern California.  It's one of my favorite places.  The redwoods are majestic.  The country is serene.  Fog, mist, and rain add an ethereal, surreal aura to the scene.   And...then there are the elk.  These critters have just gotten out of school for the day.  But before returning home to fire up their laptops and write research papers, it's time for a late afternoon snack.

I visited Lady Bird Johnson grove for the first time in a decade or so.  It was a great morning with a combination of fog and sun...perfect for fine pix of the majestic old growth forest.

Redwoods grow very fast, reaching heights of 200 feet in less than two centuries.  In fact, in 2000 I visited a grove near Rotorua, New Zealand that had been planted only 100 years earlier and the trees were at least 200 feet high!  After the tree gains the forest canopy, it grows more horizontally than vertically.  Thus, the fat redwoods are the oldest.  This tree is most likely at least 600-700 years old.  It was already growing when Columbus reached the Bahamas.

There is great beauty and diversity in the forest floor.  Ferns abound.  From here clear up through the Alaska panhandle, over a thousand miles to the north, coastal rainforest abounds. 

A mossy shrub fronts the giants.

A day with some sun and some fog provides infinite combinations of light in the primeval forest.  Such days are common here.

In winter, the deciduous trees of the forest are revealed as shrouded in moss.  Again, this pic could be taken anywhere from California to Alaska in the lush coastal forest. 

Trillium Falls, in Redwood NP.  The falls are accessed by a fairly new trail, only 15 years old at the most.  I just found out about the trail yesterday and hiked it today...a fine stroll of 2.7 miles, with enough climbing to make a decent workout for the Venerable Pinniped.

This large driftwood log indicates the occasional ferocity of nature in these parts.  The log is separated from the redwood forests by flooding rivers, filled by massive storms carrying moisture from the tropics.  The log is swept out to sea, then deposited high up on the beach by huge waves spawned by the same massive storms.  Huge driftwood like this can be found on all the pacific beaches from Sonoma county north to Alaska.

Another intriguing spot on the Humboldt coast is Big Lagoon.  This is it, with fog shrouded hills in the distance.  Again, the misty weather of the North Coast provides superb lighting.  The ocean proper is to the right of the picture, separated from the lagoon by a large sandbar.  During big storms, either the lagoon or the ocean overflows, and the two bodies of water meet. 

Winter on the Sonoma Coast

I'm currently up in Sonoma county, staying with friends who rented a house at the Sea Ranch.  The dry winter continues, with high clouds, sun, light wind, and strong surf...ideal winter weather, I reckon.  This pic was taken near the mouth of the Russian River, near Jenner.

Big surf and soft, filtered winter sunshine are a good combination.

The Sonoma coast is made up largely of sandstone, which erodes into neat forms.

Winter surf at Walk on Beach.

Driftwood, Sea Ranch homes, redwoods in the background.  Viewed from Walk on Beach.  Conditions were perfect on this day...bright sun, no wind, big surf, no people.

It wasn't windy on this day, but it usually is, as this cypress tree shows.

A heron patrols the shore in late afternoon.

The trees above Gualala beach are sculpted by the wind just a little bit.

The coastal sandstone is fashioned into exotic shapes by wind and water.  Another spot with similar rock patterns is on the southeastern coast near Cape Otway, near Melbourne.

Looking through a hole in the sandstone reveals...more eroded sandstone!

Sunset at the Sea Ranch.

January in Monterey

January in Monterey is much nicer than July.  The countryside's greener; there are few fewer tourons.  The weather is more variable, with less fog and stratus than in summer, occasional storms (nice to sleep when rain's pounding on the roof), and more sunny, warm days.  We've had five days this month with temperatures in the seventies.  This rarely happens in July and August, believe it or not.  We also have a touch of winter; two days have had freezing temperatures.  And...the surf is bigger and wilder!  These surf pics were taken on January 26.  I was just going to take a quick look, but I realized that I had stumbled onto a rare combination of big waves, looming fog, and gentle winter light that was magical.  I stayed for much of the afternoon. 

Here a wave is breaching the sand berm between the ocean and the lagoon at Carmel River State Beach.  In the background, fog shrouds the neighborhood above the beach.

Point Lobos, swathed in mist as a breaker thunders ashore.

The waves crash at the Carmel River estuary with massive force.  The water is deep until just a few yards from the beach, so the waves build up more than in most areas, and then break abruptly very close to shore.  They were about 15 feet high on this day.

Winter surf has exposed some of the rocks near the lagoon. The light was fabulous...you don't get this kind of color in the summer.

Another wave crashes.  The larger breakers sent water into the lagoon, but the river couldn't quite break through to the ocean.

A thundering breaker.  Water would splash 20-25 feet in the air in the most dramatic cases.

That's fog in the background, not an impending rainstorm.  While fog is much less pervasive here in January than in summer, it's by no means rare.

Nature at her majestic best.

Tsunami?  No...but this is a good 15-18 foot wave.  The waves at the estuary tend to break simultaneously on a long front, with immense power...great for photography, bad for surfing.  You never see any surfers here.

A huge splash.  A thunderous roar. 

As afternoon deepens, the light just gets better.

A couple friends from Denver visited me earlier in the month, and we decided to splurge and stay at the Ventana Inn for a night.  This was my room.  Gorgeous, luxurious, peaceful.  Went to sleep with a real fire crackling.  The service was outstanding, the food succulent.  It's nice to be decadent once in awhile!  We'll be back.

This was the deck outside my room, with a hot tub and a hammock.  It was very nice to soak in the tub, then sloat out in the hammock for awhile.

Winter's Surf

I think winter is a far nicer and more interesting time of year in the Monterey area than summer.  Summer brings gray skies, throngs of tourons, brown grass, and small, unobtrusive waves.  All of these things are minimized during winter, and not infrequently you get a day like this one, January 6...with bright skies, mild air, uncrowded beaches, and thundering, majestic surf. 

These pix were taken at Carmel River State Beach, where the waves are usually larger and more powerful than elsewhere in the area.  There's a steep dropoff a few yards from shore which allows the waves to barrel in at full strength, then abruptly crash on the sand with massive power.  There was a high surf advisory in effect when these pix were taken.  This breaker is probably about 12-14 feet high; the crashing water can bounce twice as high into the air after the wave finishes breaking. 

The low winter sun, of course, provides nice light.  It's not a black sand beach; just looks that way with the underexposure.

Seagulls hangin' by the Carmel River lagoon, separated from the surf by a sand berm.  Pelicans also like to kick back here in between feeding forays.

At low tide, fine patterns are created on the beach by water percolating from the lagoon through the sand to the ocean.  The lagoon is about fifty yards to the left of the picture, the ocean about ten yards to the right.  If you were up in a satellite you would see patterns of erosion very similar to these, extending dozens of miles across desert regions.  But here on the beach, the area encompassed by this pic is perhaps eight feet by ten.

The winter surf has exposed these rocks at the shore.  When the river breaks through the berm and flows into the sea, it often runs right through these stones.  During the summer, gentle surf covers the rocks with sand.  I've always liked this beach...every time I come here, it looks different.  And you see various critters...gulls, pelicans, otters, seals, cavorting all over the place.  It's a very interesting spot.