Jim and Sue L.
Junior Ranger
President's Day Weekend, the granddaughter was out of school and the weather promised only a chance of rain. Now what would any red-blooded camping freak with a shiny new TD do? Hhhhmmmmm....
Yep! Saturday morning we grabbed that 9 year old wiggle-worm, tossed her in the truck along with her Hello Kitty back pack, zebra pillow and current favorite stuffed fox and headed out ASAP to Gualala Point County Park!
Ah, Gualala. Even if you can't pronounce it without someone saying "Bless You", it's a lovely little park along the Gualala River where it meets the Pacific Ocean. Just a three and a half hour drive North of San Francisco, on HWY 1 along the Sonoma Coast, Gualala is everything that is best about the Pacific Coast all wrapped up in a tiny package.
Tiny is the operative word. With only 19 heavily wooded camping sites, reservations are a must. We reserved a lovely spot right along the river and before we could begin to unpack, our granddaughter, Hailie, spied her first otter shooting down the river to the ocean. What a thrill for her.
Trailer unhitched and the utility tent up, we were just finishing the set up when our neighbors, a rowdy group of five inebriated fishing buddies (lately escaped from the wives)swarmed over the trailer. A tour was given and the happy boys returned to their campsite to commiserate with Mssr. Tanqueray and Budweiser.
With the set-up done (a snip with our CI), Hailie decreed a hike to the ocean was in order. There was a trail that ran directly from the campground, along the river to the beach, but she wanted to see the visitor's center first. So it was a short drive across HWY 1 and down a narrow road for us. It was 3:30 PM when we reached the visitor's center...it had just closed. Boo! We took the mile plus stroll to the beach, a lovely trail along wooded pathways and long stretches of meadowland.
This was the off season and we practically had the trail and beach to ourselves...and what a beach! The ocean was being particularly rambunctious, the wind was howling and the high surf sent waves up to fifteen feet tall crashing onto the sand. Very dangerous, especially with the rip tides, but we stayed far enough away.
The beach was littered with tons of driftwood that had washed down the river and people had gathered great quantities and built sculptures and huts along the shore. Hailie loved the huts and was especially taken with one that looked like a tepee. She ran and danced and gathered shells and pebbles until the cold wind finally won out over her parka.
After picking up a few supplies at the one and only store in the town of Gualala (a one-dog town with no dog) we headed back to camp for dry clothes, hot food and a long snuggle with grandma and grandpa in the CI.
Sunday dawned bright and clear. The weather gods smiled on us and held the rain at bay. This was going to be a busy day, so we were up at dawn-before the fishing dudes stumble out of their trailer. We hit the visitor's center first...it was still closed. But we hung around until the docent finally wandered in. He was a very helpful gentleman and clued us in to the best places for viewing migrating Humpback Whales.
"Stop off at marker 45 and you'll get a terrific view."
Great! Off we went with high hopes. We weren't disappointed.
Marker 45 turned out to be 45.97, a small turn out along the highway. We parked, stepped out and looked over the edge. What an astonishing sight! There was a small, rugged cove that encompassed all the classic California Coastal images in one place. To the left was a bizarre "v" shaped rock formation jutting thirty feet out of the pounding surf, while on the right was a smooth, sloping, grass topped cliff with tide pools and a huge, windswept Monterey Pine in the foreground. All of this tied together with a swirling turquoise ocean and huge, white topped waves crashing and slinging foam twenty feet into the air. Spectacular.
Hailie started squealing and pointing: seals and otters all over the place. Everywhere we looked, families of sea mammals frolicked about, diving in and out of the surf. And if that wasn't enough, Hailie let out a whoop and shouted, "WHALES"! There they were. Far out from shore, they spouted and rolled among the waves. Our first whale sighting. Hailie was in heaven.
We then headed off to Fort Ross State Park, a remnant of a Russian fort dating back to the early 1800s. We had hoped to toss a bit of California history in the trip and Hailie was all excited to see the fort. But after the whales, Fort Ross was a let down for her. A small compound with a few empty, smelly old buildings is not the sort of thing that 9 year olds dream about. She had one word for it:"boring". Oh well...
We picnicked along the coast and headed back toward camp. Along the way we stopped at Salt Point State Park. Here we found the largest waves of all! Huge, pounding surf and some of the oddest sandstone formations around. They looked like honeycombs. Hailie loved this place. Lots of climbing on rocks for her. By 3:30, she had had enough. We plopped her in the truck and she was out before we made ten miles. Poor little pooped out baby!
By the time we returned to the camp, the weather was turning. Clouds were rolling in...along with the five fishermen next door. Here's were is got fun. I had been chatting with the ranger earlier that morning and she had laughed about the local fishermen who liked to sneak in after hours, spend the night drinking with their buddies (fellow sneakers),scoot before the rangers make their rounds in the morning and thus avoid paying the camp fees. Well, the five knuckleheads next to us were definitely "local".
I was preparing dinner and trying to ignore the raucous Bozos next door when everything went quiet. Low and behold, the ranger was there, receipt book in hand and smiling at the very nervous fishermen. The leader of the pack was protesting he had paid for one night...he thought, maybe...and then insisted the other ranger never came back, so....
The ranger smiled, "You are down for one night, one vehicle. This is your third night and you have..one, two, three...FIVE vehicles all over the place and five occupants in the trailer."
It was hard to suppress a snicker watching a tiny female ranger brow-beat a bunch of rough, but harmless weekend fishermen. The boys dug out their wallets and payed up. The ranger gone, our boys returned to their nonsense. The booze began to flow, the language deteriorated and Johnny Cash joined the party full blast. Finally I had enough. We were leaving early in the morning and needed sleep. I tried to call over the music and ask the boys to turn it down, but it was so loud and they were yelling and laughing even louder, that I couldn't be heard. That's It!
I stomped over to the party animals.
"Hey...HEY! Gentlemen....HEY, BOYS!!!!!!" That got their attention..
"Down to a college roar, will you? I like Mr. Cash as much as the next person, but we have to leave early. We need our sleep."
The leader turned down the music and promised to keep quiet. And then one of the dumber, drunker, noisier members popped up with a bright idea..
"You could join us!"
Oh, sure. One lone woman and a bunch of drunks: pretty much my idea of a dream date.
I just shook my head and returned to camp. I have to hand it to them, they kept their promise. Not a peep out of them the rest of the night.
The rain started around 3AM. By dawn it was steady, but light and the giant redwoods that surrounded our campsite kept us dry for the most part. We packed up (also a snip) and we were on the road by 7AM.
It was grand trip, but far too short. We must return to Gualala. It's a wonderful spot. And I'm curious if the fishermen ever catch anything other than hangovers.
Things to know about Gualala Point County Campground: It's lovely and secluded, but small and very popular with the locals so always get reservations. You may find someone in your spot, but just contact the ranger and they'll sort it out. No electricity, but they do have fire pits, picnic tables, raccoon proof food lockers, hot showers, flush toilets and hot water in the taps. Such luxury!
Well, Jim says that's it, C.S.I. is on, so I guess that really IS it.
Camp on,
Sue and Jim
Yep! Saturday morning we grabbed that 9 year old wiggle-worm, tossed her in the truck along with her Hello Kitty back pack, zebra pillow and current favorite stuffed fox and headed out ASAP to Gualala Point County Park!
Ah, Gualala. Even if you can't pronounce it without someone saying "Bless You", it's a lovely little park along the Gualala River where it meets the Pacific Ocean. Just a three and a half hour drive North of San Francisco, on HWY 1 along the Sonoma Coast, Gualala is everything that is best about the Pacific Coast all wrapped up in a tiny package.
Tiny is the operative word. With only 19 heavily wooded camping sites, reservations are a must. We reserved a lovely spot right along the river and before we could begin to unpack, our granddaughter, Hailie, spied her first otter shooting down the river to the ocean. What a thrill for her.
Trailer unhitched and the utility tent up, we were just finishing the set up when our neighbors, a rowdy group of five inebriated fishing buddies (lately escaped from the wives)swarmed over the trailer. A tour was given and the happy boys returned to their campsite to commiserate with Mssr. Tanqueray and Budweiser.
With the set-up done (a snip with our CI), Hailie decreed a hike to the ocean was in order. There was a trail that ran directly from the campground, along the river to the beach, but she wanted to see the visitor's center first. So it was a short drive across HWY 1 and down a narrow road for us. It was 3:30 PM when we reached the visitor's center...it had just closed. Boo! We took the mile plus stroll to the beach, a lovely trail along wooded pathways and long stretches of meadowland.
This was the off season and we practically had the trail and beach to ourselves...and what a beach! The ocean was being particularly rambunctious, the wind was howling and the high surf sent waves up to fifteen feet tall crashing onto the sand. Very dangerous, especially with the rip tides, but we stayed far enough away.
The beach was littered with tons of driftwood that had washed down the river and people had gathered great quantities and built sculptures and huts along the shore. Hailie loved the huts and was especially taken with one that looked like a tepee. She ran and danced and gathered shells and pebbles until the cold wind finally won out over her parka.
After picking up a few supplies at the one and only store in the town of Gualala (a one-dog town with no dog) we headed back to camp for dry clothes, hot food and a long snuggle with grandma and grandpa in the CI.
Sunday dawned bright and clear. The weather gods smiled on us and held the rain at bay. This was going to be a busy day, so we were up at dawn-before the fishing dudes stumble out of their trailer. We hit the visitor's center first...it was still closed. But we hung around until the docent finally wandered in. He was a very helpful gentleman and clued us in to the best places for viewing migrating Humpback Whales.
"Stop off at marker 45 and you'll get a terrific view."
Great! Off we went with high hopes. We weren't disappointed.
Marker 45 turned out to be 45.97, a small turn out along the highway. We parked, stepped out and looked over the edge. What an astonishing sight! There was a small, rugged cove that encompassed all the classic California Coastal images in one place. To the left was a bizarre "v" shaped rock formation jutting thirty feet out of the pounding surf, while on the right was a smooth, sloping, grass topped cliff with tide pools and a huge, windswept Monterey Pine in the foreground. All of this tied together with a swirling turquoise ocean and huge, white topped waves crashing and slinging foam twenty feet into the air. Spectacular.
Hailie started squealing and pointing: seals and otters all over the place. Everywhere we looked, families of sea mammals frolicked about, diving in and out of the surf. And if that wasn't enough, Hailie let out a whoop and shouted, "WHALES"! There they were. Far out from shore, they spouted and rolled among the waves. Our first whale sighting. Hailie was in heaven.
We then headed off to Fort Ross State Park, a remnant of a Russian fort dating back to the early 1800s. We had hoped to toss a bit of California history in the trip and Hailie was all excited to see the fort. But after the whales, Fort Ross was a let down for her. A small compound with a few empty, smelly old buildings is not the sort of thing that 9 year olds dream about. She had one word for it:"boring". Oh well...
We picnicked along the coast and headed back toward camp. Along the way we stopped at Salt Point State Park. Here we found the largest waves of all! Huge, pounding surf and some of the oddest sandstone formations around. They looked like honeycombs. Hailie loved this place. Lots of climbing on rocks for her. By 3:30, she had had enough. We plopped her in the truck and she was out before we made ten miles. Poor little pooped out baby!
By the time we returned to the camp, the weather was turning. Clouds were rolling in...along with the five fishermen next door. Here's were is got fun. I had been chatting with the ranger earlier that morning and she had laughed about the local fishermen who liked to sneak in after hours, spend the night drinking with their buddies (fellow sneakers),scoot before the rangers make their rounds in the morning and thus avoid paying the camp fees. Well, the five knuckleheads next to us were definitely "local".
I was preparing dinner and trying to ignore the raucous Bozos next door when everything went quiet. Low and behold, the ranger was there, receipt book in hand and smiling at the very nervous fishermen. The leader of the pack was protesting he had paid for one night...he thought, maybe...and then insisted the other ranger never came back, so....
The ranger smiled, "You are down for one night, one vehicle. This is your third night and you have..one, two, three...FIVE vehicles all over the place and five occupants in the trailer."
It was hard to suppress a snicker watching a tiny female ranger brow-beat a bunch of rough, but harmless weekend fishermen. The boys dug out their wallets and payed up. The ranger gone, our boys returned to their nonsense. The booze began to flow, the language deteriorated and Johnny Cash joined the party full blast. Finally I had enough. We were leaving early in the morning and needed sleep. I tried to call over the music and ask the boys to turn it down, but it was so loud and they were yelling and laughing even louder, that I couldn't be heard. That's It!
I stomped over to the party animals.
"Hey...HEY! Gentlemen....HEY, BOYS!!!!!!" That got their attention..
"Down to a college roar, will you? I like Mr. Cash as much as the next person, but we have to leave early. We need our sleep."
The leader turned down the music and promised to keep quiet. And then one of the dumber, drunker, noisier members popped up with a bright idea..
"You could join us!"
Oh, sure. One lone woman and a bunch of drunks: pretty much my idea of a dream date.
I just shook my head and returned to camp. I have to hand it to them, they kept their promise. Not a peep out of them the rest of the night.
The rain started around 3AM. By dawn it was steady, but light and the giant redwoods that surrounded our campsite kept us dry for the most part. We packed up (also a snip) and we were on the road by 7AM.
It was grand trip, but far too short. We must return to Gualala. It's a wonderful spot. And I'm curious if the fishermen ever catch anything other than hangovers.
Things to know about Gualala Point County Campground: It's lovely and secluded, but small and very popular with the locals so always get reservations. You may find someone in your spot, but just contact the ranger and they'll sort it out. No electricity, but they do have fire pits, picnic tables, raccoon proof food lockers, hot showers, flush toilets and hot water in the taps. Such luxury!
Well, Jim says that's it, C.S.I. is on, so I guess that really IS it.
Camp on,
Sue and Jim
