Albee Creek, Humboldt Redwoods

North! It’s the 5th day and I’m within visible sight of SF. I’ve got to pick it up a bit.

Left the hostel and used their limited wifi to check for places to stay. That failed so I think I ended up pulling over at a Starbucks a bit north of that. I settled on a campground called Albee Creek in the Humboldt Redwoods. It was highly regarded by reviews, and after I called around at multiple campgrounds, it seemed like I had the best chance of an available spot. Plenty of other places were filled to capacity.

I stopped at someplace in Marin that had an advertisement on the yard for jams, jellies, and pastries. It was literally just this nice old woman’s home. I got spiced pear jam, which was DELICIOUS. This seemed like a “do it yourself” kind of liberal, northern California community. If you’re familiar with Sebastopol, it seemed to have a similar vibe. I can dig it.

I’d never driven the Northern California coast. Jeez, does it give Big Sur a run for its money. Beautiful little towns all around; while I was on the road, I thought up a quick poem. I guess I was feeling inspired by the beauty.

I was born and raised on the beach, but not like this; Not where the trees look frozen on a windy day, Not where steep rocky cliffs jut into the oceans edge, as if to give you a better view – To see beneath yourself a swirling sea of turquoise, but not blue. And green hills overlooked one empty road Where the people built homes, not houses.

It was a lot of one road towns, with homes built facing the ocean. Really pretty but quite remote region.

Eventually the road started turning east a bit to meet up with the 5. At this point, it was snaking through greenery and it started looking much more like a forest. This section was a fantastic drive that I’d highly recommend.

Just about sunset, I got to Albee Creek. There were already bear lockers for each site, which was nice. The neighbors in the campsite next to mine included an unusually talkative child, four years old. You could tell the dad would tell him not to talk to strangers, but that would put him in a dilemma of dealing with an exceptionally vocal child all by himself.

You’re welcome, exhausted dad. Yes, I do have the patience of a saint.