ANOTHER WEEK OUT AND ABOUT

Tuesday we moved on to Eureka with much cooler weather. Though we are graced with periods of sunshine, fog is common. This is an interesting town. An exploration of the immediate vicinity provides a vision of a once bustling complex of lumber related industry that, like the gold and silver mines of yesteryear, have come and gone..    Wednesday, we did a harbor tour (our weekly boat ride) and learned about the history of Eureka.  According to our guide, at one time, there were 450 lumber mills in the area.  I am not sure whether that number was in the area of Eureka proper or whether it included mills located in Humboldt County. No matter how you divvy up the industry, there have been a lot of jobs lost through the years as we pursue progress in our ever changing World.   After our boat ride in the cold invigorating fresh air of an overcast sky, we drove over the bridge to the Samoa Coookhouse for a late lunch in the lumberman style of the past.  In its day, the cookhouse fed 1500 hungry men 3 meals per day, seven days a week.  The food was cooked on wood cook stoves and there were no amenities such as refrigeration, dishwashers or any of the myriad of wonderful modern devices that are available today.  How many of our young today can even comprehend life without their ipod, I-phone or related electronic devices? Life has changed and, though not all change is better, it is defacto.     As I have accompanied my wandering traveling comrade through the forests these past weeks (and years?) and pondered the impact of the passage of time, I have considered this changing world and the effect of change on our hopes, dreams and expectations in life.  We only need to look around us and see the changes that have occurred and are occurring to realize that security is not assured. From my perspective, a simple Biblical phrase from Ecclesiastes was a summons that is as true today as it was in Biblical times.  "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven".  I wonder about those once bustling areas that have passed their prime and are now only desolate reminders of the life that once existed there.  I cannot help but wonder what happened to those people, where did they go, how did they survive or did they? The reality of progress validates the premise that "nothing is forever".       On Thursday, the resident wanderer was ready to explore the Northern Coast and I (in a state of fog both weather wise and mental) rebelled.  I am not particularly fond of the fog and I did not want to explore the beautiful Coast without seeing it.  Ever the tourist, Ken was prepared.  We could go to Willow Creek where the mysteries of Big Foot still occupy the imagination of its citizenry. Reluctantly, I agreed and we were off.   We had lunch in Willow Creek and after Ken checked out the museum, we took a "less traveled" road through Indian Country. As we merrily traveled along we were surprised to see sign informing us that we were on a dead end road.  That got our attention.  Ken stopped at a nearby Indian hosted store and was assured that it was not his navigating skills that were wrong but rather, the sign did not apply to our road but another.    Vindicated, we pushed on around, through and past the usual hills, curves, trucks carrying dirt and over one way bridges until we came to a construction activity that prominently displayed a sign "Veterans Cemetery". We looked at each other in puzzlement. We were 10-15 miles from any population of size (Willow Creek was the only settlement that we had passed and its population was certainly nondescript). Why would the powers that be locate a cemetery in what I deemed a "God forsaken" place.  We are still puzzling over that sign and have determined that it, like the road sign, must have been placed there in error.  However there was no denying that it was a site of major construction activity and a lot of dirt was being moved.    Our puzzlement was increased when a mile or so up the road, the pavement ended and we proceeded on gravel road for the next 10-15 miles. I cannot deny that the road through the Hoopa Indian Reservation, over the ridge into the Redwood National Forest was beautiful and pleasant in spite of the dust.   Friday, the Coast road got the prize as we drove to Klamath where Ken checked out the salmon fishing.  He realized he had not properly prepared for fishing from the bank. He didn't bring his waders and he found the rental of a boat and guide too pricey for his entertainment this trip.  After checking out the activity on the Klamath River, we drove 8 miles on a gravel road to visit a fern grotto and after Ken's walk to the grotto, he did a walk to the beach to conclude his exercise for the day.    Saturday was another day of gravel roads as we made our way over to the "lost" coast of California's Mendocino Coast.  The scenery was spectacular as we traveled by major ranches and open space en route to the Coast. The black sand beaches were spectacular and the ocean subdued. We drove back through the Humboldt Redwoods and stopped for a walk through the Rockefeller Grove to the majestic Giant tree located there.  Every day we have visited the redwoods but never the same locations.  The beauty is undeniable and even I cannot complain about boredom.  My husband does try to keep me entertained with the awesome sights   he finds as a result of his unending curiosity.   Sunday and Monday we visited the Headwaters Forest Preserve and did a hike to the old Falk mill town where once another lumber mill had thrived.     This pretty much wraps up a week in Eureka, our third week on the road.  Tomorrow we will head over the hill into Redding where Ken hopes to get some fishing done and his curiosity of that area satisfied.  Ken and Pat Burns from the road and/or the sea just as happy as can be