9-11-2016 PASO ROBLES, CA

Heading south, we managed to skirt SFO.  No desire, anymore, to visit The City by the Bay.  Our intention this time is to spend a few days with Fred and Linda.  They are retired and have a vacation home in Paso Robles and Fred was my boss at McDD/Boeing at least 3 times.  Staying in touch electronically is fine but actually seeing the other humans’ faces once in a while is so much nicer and I don’t think that’s happened in 15 years.

In the late 1700s-early 1800s, when a mission existed in Paso, natural mineral springs with theoretically miraculous healing powers were found.  When the Blackburn brothers purchased the land in 1857, they revived the hot springs and it became a stagecoach-era health resort.  So much so that it went on the map internationally when the railroads arrived.  Drury James, nephew of Jesse, had a dream to build an enormous, elegant hotel, The El Paso de Robles (The Pass of Oaks).  The hotel became a reality ~1892 and trains transported folks to the resort and spa.  Of course, then it burned down.  Everything burns down.  The restorative powers of the hot springs attracted world-wide attention, though, so much so that a Russian composer, Ignatz Paderewski, relocated here to avail himself of the waters to ease his afflictions.  I’d have thought that Lourdes would have been closer to home but what do I know about miraculous hot springs?  A statue of Maestro Paderewski stands in the town squareand is one of the town’s claims to fame.

On Thursday, the schedule began with a 2-hour tour of the Piedras Blancas (White Rocks) Lighthouse.  It was built in 1874 out on a desolate point of land where rugged rocks are beat relentlessly by crashing waves. 

The lightkeepers’ only connections with life were sea lions, elephant seals, pelicans, harbor seals, plants and flowers.  There wasn’t even fresh water on the point, so it was an impossibly difficult life.  Food was delivered by tender every few months.  Still, there were those families who bore the tribulations at this unforgiving, severe place, maintaining the light faithfully.  Earthquakes and other weather catastrophes eventually forced the upper 30 feet of the light to say, “uncle” and it was removed for safety’s sake, but a powerful bulb still functions to guide mariners.

(current) Piedras Blancas
Light and Lindy 

(original) Piedras Blancas Light

Next, Fred and Linda drove us to the Hearst Castle, an attraction we have never visited.  There is a guest center where tours gather to hop on a bus that takes them to the castle.  We had a nice lunch, then watched a 45 minute film introducing us to William Randolph Hearst and his castle dreams.  Then the bus took us up the twisted path.

 I always thought that Willy was simply in love with himself, building this white elephant on a mountain, a monument to himself.  But I learned that he was passionate about art and artifact and obsessed with protecting precious, timeless treasures.  When he engaged the services of the chief architect, Julia Morgan, he told her, “I would like to build something up on the hill at San Simeon.  I get tired of going up there and camping in tents, I’m getting a little old for that.  I’d like to get something that would be more comfortable.”  More comfortable, indeed! 

This entryway resembles
ours in Pahrump

Yes, he hobnobbed with the rich and famous but who was he supposed to invite to the castle, the Kraus family?  Seriously?  Anyway, every square inch of the castle, which Hearst called, “the ranch,” is adorned with priceless collectibles, including the ceilings, the walls and floors, grounds, gardens and guest quarters.

View of the castle from afar

One of the guest quarters, by the way, has 8 bedrooms and 6 baths, in case you think your house is big.  There are artifacts everywhere that are as old as 3,000 years and many that are 400-600 years old and they are now safe and in the castle’s protective custody.  The entire estate is breath-taking and I developed enormous respect for Hearst, who worked for more than 30 years on this fabulous project to preserve the irreplaceable. 

Indoor swimming pool at Hearst Castle

He died with his living monument still in the works, never really calling it “finished.” Hearst wanted to leave the castle to the California University System but because of the maintenance expense, the offer was declined.  Eventually, the property fell to the State Parks department and luckily, it is still open to the public.  You should know this in case you want to rent Hearst Castle for your wedding or, say, family reunion.

Rob, Lindy, Linda and Fred
at the "ranch"

On Friday, the destination was the Estrella Warbirds Museum, a wonderful collection of airplanes, tanks, collectibles such as uniforms, helmets and armaments and… my gearhead says, “What the?”  A collection of beautiful old restored street and race cars!  We strolled around them for an hour or two but mainly, Fred was bound and determined that Rob and I would pilot an F-18 in the simulator. 

Mike teaching Rob

Well, Mike, our instructor, was the friendliest and most patient person and we instantly relaxed.  Rob flew first for 30 minutes

Top Gun Rob

and actually landed successfully on a carrier.  He also blew up the stadium in San Diego.  I don’t know a joy stick from a bucket of paint and so didn’t do as well, although my monitor took me over Vegas and I managed to blow up the Luxor and the MGM Grand! 

Blowing up the MGM Grand!  Yay, I hit it!

And I fired a few sidewinder missiles at the enemy.  As for the carrier, let’s just say that with Lindy as a pilot, it saw better days.  I literally dove into the aft end.  Maybe being left-handed on a right-hand control stick and a bit dyslexic causes me to push when the command is, “Pull to blue, pull to blue!”  Who knows.  Fortunately, it was just a video simulation and we got our wings, notwithstanding.  You can thank our military for understanding that 70-year olds should not be fighter pilots (rounded up).

Am I proud or what?  I crashed
into an aircraft carrier!  Don't hire me!

We were entertained, chauffeured,  wined and dined in fabulous fashion, we swam, laughed and compared old war stories for many hours courtesy of our hosts,   Fred and Linda.  We are exhausted!

Our homing beacon is screaming.  This is our last stop and the laundry basket tells me it is time to head for the homestead.  These are all the stories I have in my fingers for now.  To all of you with love from Rob and Lucky Lindy.

9-6-2016 Petaluma, CA

We had a 2-day stopover in Benbow, CA, not because there were landmarks not to be missed but because it was a reasonable driving distance.  At least that was the assumption up front.  It was a slow 6-hour slog of 245 miles on the twisty narrow road south and the KOA park sign was a welcome sight.  Again, we have driven tens of thousands of miles on America’s roads and we vote California’s the worst.  They rattle your fillings.  No telling what they do to B2’s underpinnings.  Moonbeam could redirect some of that welfare money to road jobs.  Just sayin.’

As it happens, we did find a wonderful landmark in Benbow, the Benbow Historic  Inn, tucked in among the majestic redwoods.  It was the brainchild of the Benbow family who apparently were LO-O-O-OADED, since the historic bridge, inn and town are named “Benbow.” 

Benbow Inn back patio

Originally constructed in 1926, the Benbows experienced hard times immediately thereafter when the crash and the depression dealt a blow to the country’s economy. 

Parlor at Benbow Inn

The inn has since changed ownership a few times.  It is beautiful, done in rich dark wood, with a fireplace and overstuffed furniture in the parlor, flowers everywhere and a large patio near the old bridge where brunch is served. 

Benbow Inn patio
and the old bridge

We requested a look at the rooms but it was not possible because they are booked!  If you have a boatload of money to burn, this would be a beautiful getaway.  Order lox benedict and a half liter of champagne with a strawberry in it!

Because it is Labor Day Week, the last holiday of the Summer, many of the parks were full and so I investigated the Elks Lodge in Petaluma.  Indeed, they have 20 sites with full hook-ups available to Elks members and we reserved a site.  Maybe not such a good idea because, alas, the lodge itself is closed for the holiday weekend and we were secretly hoping for a walleye dinner.  But it was a good enough place to land, better than the Walmart parking lot, for sure. 

Sears Point aka Sonoma Raceway

My gearhead said, “I know!  Since it’s only 12 miles away, we could go to Sears Point for the day!  The drags are going on this weekend!”  (I knew this.  I was going to surprise him with tickets to the Indy cars but they will be here in 2 weeks.  Timing is everything.)  Sears Point is now known as Sonoma Raceway for those of you who care.  Four of you?  OK, so now we all know this and on the plus side, gosh, we went to the drags this afternoon.  In fairness, there were a few very cool 55, 56 and 57 Chevys.

The Happy Gearhead

Petaluma was established because of the gold rush as was most everything on the west coast, but there wasn’t any gold to be found here.  The pioneers got into ranching, particularly chicken ranching, and before anybody knew it, it became “The Egg Capital of the World.”  Who knew?  Everywhere in the town, there are chickens and eggs, eggs and chickens.  Chicken statues, chicken signs, chicken awards, chicken ornaments.  The locals brag:  on one particular building, there is a Coca Cola sign which has been restored including the original chicken and egg logo of Petaluma.  Being a chicken person myself, I really enjoyed this particular aspect of the town.  Also, add this to your bucket list:  every year in April, they have the Butter and Egg Parade and festivities.

Note the chicken in the egg

Petaluma is nearly intact with the original structures based upon the fact that Petaluma was built upon bedrock and so it survived the many catastrophies in the West that swept other townships away.  It is heavily populated with well-cared-for Victorian and Queen Anne homes and beautiful churches. 

St. Vencent Catholic Church

The Abraham Ward family arrived here by wagon train to establish a dairy farm in the early 1800s. 

There are hundreds of
homes like this one!

Abraham’s artistic daughter, Hannah Ward Stewart, is responsible for the design of some of the homes and lived in one for 49 years. 

Hannah Ward Stewart's
 home for 49 years

The Petaluma River flows through town and restaurants and shops abound on its banks as does the train trestle which in its time, was one of the busiest in the west carrying people and products back and forth between here and neighboring towns.  The river flows into San Pablo Bay which empties into the Pacific Ocean.  So you can put a kayak in the Petaluma River and paddle all the way to Japan!  If it weren’t in CA, I think we could easily live in Petaluma!  What a pretty town!

The foot bridge across the Petaluma

The old trolley trestle on the Petaluma River

9-2-2016 Bandon & Port Orford, OR

Don't look down

Driving down the coast highway, 101, can be scenic or heart-attack-material.  Depends who’s driving.  Some of the snaky turns up on the cliffs have no shoulder, drop 1000s of feet into the rocks and surf and warning signs recommend 15 mph.  So let me think, if they are recommending 15 mph for a car, how slow should a 55 foot train move, esp. on a downgrade with a Jeep trying to push you down the hill, hmmm?  Focus, Krauser, focus.  Keep an eye on those lines!  Do NOT look around!

Bandon/Port Orford KOA situated us in the tall trees and even with a blue sky, not much sun comes through to brighten the day nor dry things out. 

B2 parked at the Bandon Port Orford KOA 

But it is strategically located within short drives to points of interest and so midday, we set out, first, to find a fun place to have lunch.  On the dock at Port Orford, the sign says to use caution here as this is a “working port.”  The concrete dock is piled with fishing equipment, crab pots, floats, fenders, cranes, trailers and fishing boats up on blocks.  Gulls fly overhead hoping for treats.  Fishermen in rubber bibs and boots come and go from the cleaning stations and buildings. 

Port Orford "working port"

Griff’s on the Dock is a tiny little restaurant, a diamond in the rough.  To find a little place like this at a working port is a blessing in the first place, knowing that the seafood served here comes straight off the boats.  There were six tables and we chose a tiny one by the big window looking over the bay where, we were told, a family of whales were frolicking.  Mother Whale and Baby Whalette play in the bay and Father Whale hangs out round the corner in the next bay.  Well, we saw no whales but the fish and chips and cioppino were excellent.

Rob at Griff's On The Dock

After lunch, we saw many kinds of fresh fish behind the glass in the deli.  Willy fixed us up with two chunks of ling cod into which he cut pockets.  Willy instructed us to stuff the pocket with butter pats, thin slices of lemon, maybe a little dill and then wrap them in foil, splash in a little white wine and bake on medium coals for 13-16 minutes.  While that is happening, prepare a salad piled with crab meat and toss down a few fresh oysters with your toonie.  The whole dinner experience was so fabulous that, on the way out of town the following morning, we stopped in at Griff’s one more time to reload!  This time, the whales really were frolicking and playing and flipping their tails!  They are huge, even the baby, and it was amazing!

Oh no... not this again!  Shiver me timbers.

There were enough hours left in the afternoon to visit Cape Blanco Lighthouse.  In 1851, gold was discovered in this area and miners and farmers flocked in to gather up their share.  Despite best human efforts to guide mariners, shipwrecks were common and it became imperative that a lighthouse be constructed.  Lt. Col. Robert Williamson was put in charge.  Most of the materials were hauled in but 200,000 bricks were made on site.  The double wall is five feet thick at the base and two feet thick at the top. 

Cape Blanco Light then

Cape Blanco Light now

The total height above sea level is 256 feet including the dirt, but it is not the tallest lighthouse (59’) on the OR coast.  The tallest is the Yaquina Head light (93’) but this one is only 162 feet above sea level including the dirt.  The fresnel lens captures the light waves from a 1,000 watt bulb (originally the lamps used pork fat, then kerosene) and sends it 19.6 statute miles out to sea.  Each light on the coast has a different pattern of flash alternating with darkness which helps mariners determine where they are. 

Rob and the beautiful fresnel lens

The Cape Blanco light has a 1.8 second flash alternated with 18.2 seconds of darkness, a pattern that still stands today, as this light is still functioning.  The USCG controls the light now but it is monitored most often by the local folks who just know what they should see.  When they don’t see it, they report it.  There were many keepers but James Langlois was there the longest, 42 years, followed by James Hughes, 37 years, maintaining the light, polishing the brass, painting, sweeping, shining, undergoing white-glove inspections.  And in their spare time, there were gardens to keep, children and their own food to raise. 

1,000 watt bulb with back up
looking in the bullseye

The second order fresnel crystal lens weighs a ton.  Some young punks broke into the lighthouse a few years ago and took a wrecking bar to the lens, chipping a number of the prisms, then came back to their high school bragging about it.  Hopefully, the little fuckers are still in jail working by the hour to pay for the lens.  A lifetime should do it.

8-31-2016 Barview, OR

We just completed a 4-night stay with Jim and Liz, snowbird pickleball friends, parked at their site in Barview Jetty County Park.  Jim and Liz are “park hosts” and have a huge site sitting at the edge of the jetty looking out on Tillamook Bay, certainly the most strategically perfect one, private and quiet with the perfect view.

View of Tillamook
Bay from B2

 

Rob and B2 

We backed B2 into the adjacent space, hooked up and set the lawn chairs around the fire pit while Jim explained some of the geography here as he performed his favorite activity:  cleaning crabs.

Jim and Liz at work

While Liz and Jim performed their daily park duties, they suggested things to do and see.  We drove out onto the south jetty as far as possible and then walked a  short distance.  The breakers can be a little brutal out beyond but the jetties keep the seas a bit calmer toward the shores.  Next, we hit the DeGarde Brewery and found that they have a bar that serves up 6 oz. tastes of the many tart brews. 

Menu at DeGarde Brewery

We sat on the patio in the warm sun and took a sip.  Tart, indeed.  It made my cheeks pucker, holy buckets! 

We came to realize that we had been this way before in 2013, and had seen the lighthouses, the Tillamook Cheese Factory and some of the restaurants and seafood markets.  Since we knew we couldn’t go wrong, we randomly chose great places for lunches.  On August 28, the day I turned nearly 70 (Oh, I just round up.), the Trollers restaurant provided my lunch of steamer clams.  There were so many I counted them, 63 clams!  What a birthday treat!  In the evening, Jim and Liz joined us at Pirate’s Cove for dinner at a table with a big picture window looking out to the bay.  Slowly, the sun set and the fishing boats sailed in to port for the evening.  A dreamy setting and a great way to spend my 68^th!

We four at Pirate's Cove

At the end of the peninsula across the bay, the dream of T. B. Potter, a real estate investor from KS, came to life for awhile beginning in 1906.  His idea was to build a resort community that would become the “Atlantic City of the West.”  Folks who liked the idea of an isolated vacation retreat bought in and the community began to take shape.  Development was a success with a post office, “natatorium (indoor swimming pool with wave-maker and a stage for live music),” a 3-story hotel, bowling alley, bakery, 4 miles of pavement and a narrow gauge railroad.  By 1914, 600 building lots had been sold and 2,000 rich people spent leisure time at Bay Ocean, OR. 

The main way to get to the resort was via Potter’s steamship,  the SS Bayocean.  It was a 3-day trip from Portland and the approach to the peninsula was scary so the people asked the feds to build a breakwater.  The gov’t engineers advised 2 jetties at a cost of $2.2M, half of which cost would be their responsibility.  They didn’t want to fork over that much so they paid $400K for one jetty (total cost $800K).  It was a calmer, less scary trip to the peninsula for the residents.  However, the ocean’s wave action was altered and the beaches began to erode noticeably.  Well, what’s a little erosion if you can save yourselves $700K, right?  Hold on, stay with me.  By 1932, the natatorium was destroyed. 

Oops... dang!

By 1949, 20 homes had been swept into the sea.  Storms ate away the skinniest connector and Bay Ocean became an island. 

You can't buy "smart."

Several severe storms finished the job and by 1960, the last structure standing, a garage, was swept away.  Eventually, by 1970, a second jetty was constructed and the sea action began rebuilding the shoreline, once again restoring the area to a peninsula a day late and a dollar short.  Today, not a trace of Bay Ocean exists except markers, almost like tombstones. 

We’re back to “dream” status.  Mother Nature made it abundantly clear that she did not want a resort on her peninsula!  As Elizabeth Huelsdonk Fletcher might have exclaimed, “Stay out!  Go away!”

Bay Ocean used to be right here

Jim and Liz light a campfire almost every evening.  In the evening on 8-28 around the fire, it was agreed that tomorrow would be a fishing day.  Jim studied the tides and said we should start getting ready to go at roughly 5:15.  I gasped, “In the morning?!”  Thinking it through later, I realized that there are only two 5:15s in a day and Jim surely did not mean Pee Em!  Couple that with one other problem:  no bathroom on Jim’s boat and I am 70 (rounded up).  Being old means, well, let’s go there.  Often.  One thing became clear:  Rob and Jim were going fishing at 5:30 Ay Em.  Rob arose in the cold dark and dressed in layers, all at the same time.  A shirt, sweatshirt, fleece jacket and weather-proof parka.  I, on the other hand, kissed him good bye, wished him luck and went back to bed.  Or possibly the bathroom and then back to bed.  Jim and Rob were on the ocean until 2PM and the results were dismal.  No fish.  Which is OK, right?  I have to agree with Dave Barry, “Fishing is fun.  Until you catch one, then it’s just gross.”  The fish market is where you get a fish.  With no head or guts attached.  Rob bought a one-day fishing license and Jim said it was probably not necessary because he had never been checked, not once.  Guess what.  On this particular day, the OR State Police came by and said, “Keep fishin,’ but show us two tickets!”  Liz and I could see the boat sailing up and down the bay and at one point, Rob called me from the boat and I stood on the jetty and gave the boys a wave!  (“A wave,” get it?)  It was cold, windy and choppy but even though they came back empty-handed, Rob was grinning and thrilled that he’d been out fishin!’ 

The Ancient Mariners, happy as clams!

Camp

Liz, Jim and Mister Oyster

Marnel and Grubby showed up on Monday the 29^th to have dinner and wish me, “Happy Birthday!”  Inserted in the greeting card was a lottery scratcher.  I scratched it and found that I had won $50!  Hurray!  For dinner the next evening, we stopped at a fishery and obtained a big sack of live oysters.  Jim shucked them and we all ate raw oysters on the half shell until we dropped.  Then we moved on to crab cocktails.  Jim and Liz do it right and it’s all good for Lucky Lindy and Rob!  Thank you to everyone who made my special days so happy!

Shucking oysters, oysters, oysters!  Yay!

This is how a 70 year old properly eats crab cocktail!
(Oh, I round up.)