The cool thing about the northernmost California coast is that it's impossible to turn your head without seeing something absolutely breathtaking.

With this in mind, we decided to grab some picnic grub for lunch and head north on US 101. We figured we'd take in some scenery, save a little money - wait, scratch that last part. We were warned at our hotel that things were more expensive in these parts. I didn't believe it, until the pirates at Ray's Food charged me $5.00 for a box of Triscuits.

"Why?" you ask?

Well,  as I related yesterday, it's because they have to hire a damn Sherpa to bring the Triscuits in from Redding. Apparently it's not just me who finds those roads undrivable. Certain things have to be brought in via alternate routes. 

Coastal freeway.
Intricate pulley system rigged through the redwood forest.
Small barefoot men carrying burlap sacks full of Slim Jim's and Nesbits cream sodas through the mountain pass.

So that's why lunch cost as much as dinner in a Parisian cafe.

But it's all good, because you can't stay angry about anything at Patrick's Point State Park.

 The hike is steep, but the beach full of agates is worth it. Kooka and I spent over an hour collecting perfectly smooth rocks, soft driftwood and avoiding the hundreds of jellyfish that we're hanging out on the shore.

Yoda became enthralled with building a house for a ladybug she met, and spent the better part of our visit creating a custom abode complete with slide, hot tub, refrigerator and pool. 

Punk found crab shells, and daydreamed while watching the waves. Rico said it was one of the best parts of our trip. Considering we've been on the road for 17 days, Patick's Point was a hit.

So was our short hike through the redwood forest. Rico thanked Teddy Rooseveldt for preserving it, and Punk said that if he ever found himself in a position of real power, he would have the entire thing paved in yellow bricks a'la the perfect Wizard of Oz setting. 

We found ourselves lunching at the Trees of Mystery parking lot. We didn't bother going through the trail, but did enjoy the very sarcastic Paul Bunyan statue who was happy to carry on a conversation with anyone who passed by.

Lone Ranch Beach in Brookings, Oregon was our very first stop in our 47th state. We scoured the tide pools for starfish and crabs, but just found the claws, swirly purple shells and sea glass.

We are pleasantly surprised to find ourselves staying in Sasquatch territory for the night. And if you think for one second that we're hoping to avoid one, think again. After cruising 101 between Coos Bay and Florence, 4 of us are convinced that this is exactly the type of place Bigfoot would live; cool, remote, dense forests. Rico, on the other hand, says that if Bigfoot exists, he most certainly is hanging out on the mountain trails we passed through yesterday. If he is, he better bring his own Triscuits. 

Who knows what tomorrow holds, but as long as it's in Oregon, we're cool.


Treats said…
Gorgeous pics! You had me hooked until you said 17 days on the road. You have more fortitude than I do. I do heartily acknowledge that you get out of life what you put into it. Your photos/words are a testament to that.

Next Walmart you pass, stock up on Triscuts.