01-11-2024 Traveling South Part 1

Catalina Spa has several pickleball courts

It happens almost every year.  We know that the best way to survive chilly, foggy winters in Grants Pass is to leave, at least for a little while.  We have traveled south to the deserts of Southern California for 14 years now.  Sometimes leaving immediately after Christmas and other times waiting until February.  Each year I think maybe we should have gone earlier or later, and sometimes our timing is absolutely perfect.

This year it was perfect.  We are settled in at our favorite little spot at Catalina Spa in Desert Hot Springs, delighting in the pleasant temperatures and lack of wind that can make visiting the Coachella Valley a bit challenging at times.

After our morning walk, I checked in with family back in Oregon.  My daughter Melody and her husband Robert are stuck at home with solid ice sheets all around them.  Neighbors who have attempted to drive have had the unhappy experience of sliding sideways into fences.  Not a time to go anywhere.  The kids have no power and the house is cold.  Their house, built in 1908, no longer has a fireplace, and their heat needs electricity to run.

Daughter Melody and husband Robert live in the house on the left just past the telephone pole

My friend Jennnifer, from book club, just messaged me with a photo of down trees on her property and said we are lucky to be away since there is no power and no internet.  I think we picked the right time to be gone this time around.

I watched the sunrise this morning, filling the sky with brilliant color by 7:00 AM.  Within minutes we were in the pool, with water temperatures at a somewhat cool 85 degrees or so instead of the 95 degrees we are used to here.  

Only managed half an hour before we retreated to the hot tub which was not as hot as usual but still wonderful.  Seems as though there is some work happening on the wells that supply the resort.  No worries, the sun is shining, the dog is napping in the warm light, and Mo is outside in shorts and a tee shirt doing computer work.

When we left on Thursday, January 11, the light snow from the previous couple of days had melted entirely.  This time we decided to take an alternate route south, traveling over to the coast before continuing down Highway 101.  

Our route into California on Highway 199 was only delayed for 15 minutes or so with a pilot car navigating our line of vehicles along the worst of the damage from the summer fires along the Smith River.  It is a curvy road with steep dropoffs, and the forced slowdown makes for a nice, easy, stress-free drive.  There is even time to look at the gorgeous Smith River, flowing high and full after all the rain recently.

We traveled on a day when I knew that one of our favorite places would be open, the Chart Room in Crescent City.  It isn't perfect, but their fish and chips are one of the best, with truly superb cole slaw and tartar sauce that tastes like my version, hot salty fries, and fresh cod done well.  

We bought lunch and ate in the MoHo, watching the sea lions on the docks, and listening to their constant barking.

Highway 101 was open all the way, with a short stop at the slide that has been under construction and repair for years now.  Our destination for the evening was the Heights Casino, with overnight camping without hookups for $20 bucks. It is money well spent.  There is level pavement to park and all-night security which we appreciate.  We went to the casino where we were required to sign up for a player's card that included $10 in free money to play.  

It is so funny because Mo and I have been to casinos rarely in the last few years and we don't recognize any of the machines.  Penny machines have little signs that say the minimum bet for a single pull is 80 cents or more.  You can drop 20 bucks in just a few minutes that way!  Still, we basically broke even for the evening and enjoyed 90 minutes or so of entertainment. Our evening meal was the delightful leftovers from lunch, heated in a hot skillet to keep the fish and fries nice and crispy.

The next morning was still cloudy but no rain dampened our drive toward Santa Rosa where we had reservations at the Sonoma County Fairgrounds.  The northern portion of Highway 101 is spectacular, with butter-smooth pavement and the gorgeous redwoods on either side of the road.  I took few photos, having traveled this route many times in the past, and it was my turn to drive. 

Settling into the RV park was a bit disconcerting, with a camp host who was less than understandable in her directions to our site.  If you ever try to stay there, keep in mind that the campsite signs on the posts are opposite of the direction they should be and it was very confusing.  We did settle in and enjoyed clam chowder from home for our supper that evening.  We thought we could possibly go see some of Santa Rosa, but directions to any of the sites seemed excessively complex, so instead we simply found a WalMart to replace the small electric heater I managed to leave behind at home when loading the MoHo.

The weather was cool and damp and walking the parks didn't seem particularly enticing.  We did at least have a chance to check out our route for getting back on the 101 Freeway the next morning before settling in for the evening.

My reason for booking the fairgrounds is that it was the most reasonably priced park close to San Francisco.  Our route south included driving across the Golden Gate Bridge and down Highway 1 to Montara, where Mo lived for many years.

The next morning we departed by 8 and were delighted to see that traffic into the city on a Saturday morning wasn't too bad.  I was especially happy to see this since I am the one who usually drives first in the mornings.  The bridge was beautiful, even in the overcast skies, and following the Google Girl directions toward Highway 1 South and Half Moon Bay was easy.  The toll booths are completely automated, with a bill to come in the mail based on our license registration.  We have no idea how much it cost.

Mo's once-upon-a-time home in Montara

We parked the MoHo at the mall in Half Moon Bay, and unhooked the Tracker for a drive back to Montara, stopping in Moss Beach to check out the home Mo bought there before moving to the "ranch" in Montara.  Mo was shocked at the changes in both towns and didn't recognize much as we traveled up the hills toward her Moss Beach home.  The vegetation has grown so much that everything looks completely different.  Mo was overwhelmed by the number of cars parked on the narrow streets and decided that the entire area was much too claustrophobic to ever consider living there again.

We then continued north toward Montara and after a bit of wandering finally found the road to her home that she owned until she moved to Oregon.  The new owners love privacy and have surrounded the place with high impenetrable hedges making it hard to see the barns and pastures that were once occupied by horses that she boarded for people who became lifelong friends.

As we peered through an opening in the hedge, Mrs. Navarro, a lovely lady who lived there when Mo did, stopped to say hi.  Her family owned a nursery across the road from Mo's place and after all these years she remembered Mo and her dogs.  

I think she thought I was Mo's friend Carol, but she was incredibly sweet. She offered us branches of fragrant eucalyptus, but I said our car was too crowded.  Mo has no idea of her age, but she was old when Mo lived there.  It is amazing how well she has aged.  When I asked her how old she was she laughed and said, "I am pretty sure I am over 55".

We drove back to Half Moon Bay and enjoyed some time walking the streets of what is now a very upscale little town.  There were many "home decor" shops, art galleries, wine and cheese shops, and tucked away in the midst of it I found a delightful yarn shop.  I walked out $130 bucks later with some gorgeous cashmere and alpaca yarns to hopefully stimulate my knitting habit once again.  Yarn shops can be devastating to the pocketbook! 

Mo was disappointed that our plans didn't include an overnight in the area.  Next time we will plan for that so that Mo can connect with the many friends she has there

It was early afternoon when we departed the area and continued south on 101 toward Watsonville.  The strawberry fields were green but it was much too early for the legendary flavorful strawberries that grow there.  We saw no artichokes, another crop for which the area is famous.  By the time we reached Salinas, home of John Steinbeck's famous novel East of Eden, the sun was out a bit.

Our destination was Camp Roberts.