okay, so that's getting a little ahead of ourselves.
To back up . . .
Monday night, leaving Shelter Cove, we still had to get to our B&B Treehouse for the night and it was about an hour after our projected arrival already.
My flawless navigator made her one error on the trip at this point, putting what was actually the first place we had on the next morning's docket into Google Maps instead of the B&B address.
So by the time we arrived at Founders Grove, we'd already gone 10 miles past the exit to the treehouse and had to turn around, get lost by the GPS, and finally call Brian, our host for help.
But we made it.
However, by that point, we were mostly just ready to collapse and I only managed a couple of photos in the evening.
after I'd climbed in bed, looking up at the moon roof overhead
and peeking down at Marci reading while she decompressed
The next morning, I went exploring.
the chicken coop. Me and the rooster were up at the same time.
This is Charcoal. We were porch buddies.
Marci still reading :)
Our route today
We took off by 8:00 for breakfast in Miranda
and then a heavenly drive through the ancient, giant Redwoods
This is actually the size of the Hobbit Hole we are staying in tonight. And probably a LOT cooler
Here we are back at Founders Grove, which is where we were last night thinking we were driving to the B&B. Much happier to see the place now.
There is just literally no way to communicate the size of these trees through photos or video.
There are so tall, they are in three climate zones. The floor zone does different things on the tree than the center of the tree, where the leaves differ from both the bottom AND the top. The highest zone is actually arid due to the endless coastal winds.
That didn't stop Marci from trying on one of the fallen ones.
The next portion of the drive was just . . . weird.
We stopped in to see this seriously Gothic mansion in Eureka, CA
across the street:
From that point, we drove through the area where we'd hoped to spot elk herds, but nada.
The Trees of Mystery place was on the docket to take a photo with Paul Bunyan and Babe, who were both wearing their masks, unlike about half the people we saw crowding way too closely together.
BYE
Once we got out of the hot zone, we made our way up to the point where the road to the right moved us away from the shore and into the forest for an hour.
But there was a sign saying "coastal access" if we turned left . . .
annnnd, of course, we turned left.
Many thanks to Marci walking me through the road we really were on versus the road I thought we were on, and helping me identify this as the Crescent Beach Picnic Area.
the beach parking lot, with the mountains behind waiting for just a bit.
it was here we said a fond farewell to Marci's rain boots
the fog was rolling in while we roamed a bit
Walking along and just washed up was this PERFECT sand dollar. I washed him off and took his photo with a few other finds. I left the rest, but I had to try and get him home (he rode in the padded binoculars case and made it.)
I call this collection "deconstructed crab"
lobster tail washed up
ok, time for a Hobbit Hole!
The river along our way
This little place was not easy to get to, and it was a mess outside the trail to the hole. We would find out why a little later that evening.
It was 4:00 in the afternoon, facing west, and HOT.
no need for the stove
the aforementioned mess turned out to be bee hives that had been destroyed
there was a little spring that had been rigged up for a cold water sink, but that's the only plumbing here. The toilet and bath are a good uphill walk to the communal facilities.
Up the hill to the compost toilet, we passed the duck pond (and chicken coop and goat pen)
we met the couple staying in the treehouse along the way
it was getting dark when Dan finally appeared (our B&B host) to tell Marci who was outside that he was sorry it had to happen this evening, but they were about to "take care" of a black bear who had destroyed the bee hives the night before (happily, not the night we were walking to the bathroom), had killed one of his dogs earlier, and was about to be shot.
I'm already laying in bed, Marci is in the swing chair. But this news has either addled her brain or filled her with such fear the only way she could process it was to start giggling and not be able to stop. This was one of those, "I'm not getting sucked in, I'm not getting sucked in . . . too late, now I'm giggling at her giggling" moments. Tears were rolling.
Sure enough, we heard three rifle reports within about 5 minutes of each other, with a revisit by Dan to tell us they'd "gotten him."
I had questions.
How do you know it's the right bear?
Is this even legal? I have no internet service and cannot Google it. (It is legal.)
What are you going to DO with this "gotten" bear?
I asked none of them.
But I had questions.
I also was determined I would not be walking up the hill to the bathroom in the dark.
However, I did step out into the dark, about 4:45 that morning, to take in the sky filled with a billion stars.
That's about the time I remembered that I'd left the remote shutter cord in the car, down the hill a good ways, and would NOT be stepping out to retrieve it.
Which meant I would be holding the shutter button down manually, with my heart beat causing blur with the shutter open for a full minute. Plus, because it was so dark, even the earth's rotation was adding blur.
But here's a general idea
early morning light:
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