Alone

I don't mean alone in the sense that I am without a travel partner.

I mean that, at least during the first half of my day, I really hardly saw another person.

Still paranoid from the night before, I woke up at dawn and scurried out of Gualala. Just outside town I pulled into a view point parking area. It was still foggy and cold but still very pretty.

No one joined me. I hung out there for awhile and caught up on my Rusty chores. Very few cars passed on the highway.

As I drove on from there, I began to sink into that world where if you see a sign on the side of the road that interests you, you can actually pull over and check it out. You have time. Nice view here? Let's see it. Charming town? Let's investigate. It's not a world that I get to live in all that much in normal everyday life. There's frequently some kind of schedule to adhere to.

I passed a road with a sign that read Manchester State Beach and KOA campground. Initially I thought, "State beach.. hmm... They probably charge for parking. It's probably crowded. KOA campgrounds are cheesy." Then I thought, "Why not check it out?" I pulled a U-turn and drove down the country road, past the cheesy campground and into a small, completely deserted parking lot. There was nothing there but some signs and a remarkably clean outhouse. The signs explained that due to budget cuts they had to remove the trash cans, so please pack it out yourself. They also explained that this is the point where the San Andreas fault meets the ocean. Cool. I walked onto the lonely black sand beach. Not a soul as far as I could see. No footprints. Just me.

After leaving the beach I attempted to make some progress toward Rockport, my next destination. But soon got distracted by a cute miniature town and had to pull over again. It turned out the town is called Greenwood. It's nothing but a few clusters of cliffside cottages and a couple of places to eat. One of the places, Greenwood Pier Inn, felt a little like Harbin Hot Springs by the sea with pretty gardens and a hot tub on a big deck. It seemed like a great place for an ultra quiet romantic getaway.

Ok. Now I really must drive.

Ok one more stop. Another empty view point. Why not. This time as I walked the trail toward the cliff, I thought I heard some voices, which was strange because there were no other cars around. As I got closer, I realized they were sea lions, barking and sunning on a big rock out in the water. They must be a fixture, because someone built a pretty bench out of driftwood way out on the cliffside just to watch and listen to the chatter.
Onward.

Rusty is one of the slower vehicles on the road. I find myself pulling over a lot to let people pass. Once I pulled over by a road called Gordon Lane and decided to just drive down the road, just 'cause, well.... Gordon.

My next pull-over was after a rather large bridge just before entering the town of Mendocino. The road I pulled off on sloped down toward Big River State Beach. Big River lived up to its name. A calm wide waterway with a big cayak shop waiting to send folks upriver into the big trees just inland. I drove down to check it out. This was the first phone service I had since Bodega Bay the day before so I wanted to make a couple of phone calls.

While dialing I realized that it wasn't even noon yet. I had such a full day already. This must be what it feels like to be a morning person.

I walked down the beach a bit, but I saw there was a road that went further up river. I figured I'd head back to Rusty and drive it rather than walk all the way down there and back.

I got in and turned the ignition key. Then I heard that sound you never want to hear when starting your car.

Click.