I first heard the word Mendocino while I was learning about electromagnetic induction. Somewhere online I came across a small device called a Mendocino motor: sunlight falls on the solar cells around its four sides, the coils energise in turn, and the rotor, floating in a magnetic field, spins with almost no friction. It was the clearest picture I had when I finally worked out that free energy is not the same thing as perpetual motion.

Roughly like this:

Looking for somewhere to go over Labor Day, I gave GPT a few conditions: not too crowded, within five hours of driving, and preferably north — I had been to Los Angeles and found it too hot, and wanted a different kind of landscape. It pointed me at this small coastal town and said it sat at the end of Highway 1. I looked at the name and stopped short: was that not the Mendocino I had learned about as a child? That settled it, and the trip became two days and one night.

By luck, an inn called The Madrones still had a room free for Saturday night.

Day 1

Hiking at Hendy Woods

Check-in was not until three and we arrived early, so we started with a trail in nearby Hendy Woods. We took the longest one, close to 4 miles, which links the park end to end. Almost all of it lies in shade; redwoods stand along both sides and a few wooden bridges cross the path. It was a satisfying walk without being strenuous. Halfway along we came across a spot signed as a hermit’s camp. I kept GPT live open the whole way, listening to it talk about the age of the redwoods and how the park came to be — hiking turned out to be more interesting that way.

The Madrones

The inn was the biggest surprise of the trip. From the outside the room is just a cabin in the redwoods; inside it is another matter — the sofa and television in the living room, the fruit on the table, the milk and drinks in the fridge, the bed in the next room, all of it clean, orderly and modern, down to a shower that ran at exactly the right temperature. I posted about it that night, which I almost never do. It really was the best place I have stayed out here.

A garden runs around the cabins, with chairs and picnic tables set out in it. We were too short on time to sit for long. There are apple orchards nearby as well, and the cider is supposed to be very good — but neither of us drinks much, so we skipped all of it.

Big River Beach

After a rest we drove out to the beach near Mendocino for the sunset. There were plenty of people, some of them cooking over grills. We spread out a mat and did nothing at all: sun, snacks, lying still. We waded in too, and the water was cold enough to send us straight back out. A thoroughly unhurried hour.

Mendocino Valley

After sunset we went into town to pick up dinner to take back. It is a small place, one souvenir shop after another, all of them worth a look. We stopped at the local general store for fruit and something to drink. I took a lot of photographs along this stretch.

Drive at Forest

It was fully dark by the time we drove back. Highway 128 turns constantly, the redwoods close in on both sides, and the headlights reach maybe fifteen metres ahead — genuinely unnerving.

The photographs above were taken the following day.

That said, 128 handles much like the mountain roads back home in Hunan, so it never felt unfamiliar.

Day 2

Point Cabrillo Light Station & Mendocino Headlands State Park

The half day we spent walking around the lighthouse and the Mendocino headlands was when the sea was at its bluest. The views are as good as promised, and there are seabirds everywhere. Having just finished the Odyssey, I kept picturing the people who went out onto that water, and understood a little better what a lighthouse means to them. What defines this stretch of coast is how many sea caves there are. The surf has been hollowing out the cliffs for a very long time, leaving one dark mouth after another; some have had their roofs collapse, so you can stand at the top and look straight down onto the water turning below. Kelp left over from the harvest lies scattered along the shore.

Point Arena Fish Fest

The fest fell right on our way back down Highway 1. Two dollars buys a ticket; seven tickets buy a burger, eight a skewer, five a plate of three oysters. A band was playing, and almost everyone there was local — I did not see another Asian face. I had rarely eaten oysters before. These were unexpectedly good: sweet, without any of the brine I had been avoiding.

Highway 1 Road Trip

The rest was the drive south along Highway 1. The scenery changes constantly, faster than you can take it in. We stopped at Shell Beach and sat in camping chairs for about an hour, in the sun with the wind coming off the water; it had been a long time since I felt that unhurried. Salmon Creek Beach further along is the better recommendation, though — finer sand, more open, and someone was flying a kite when we arrived.