The not so frozen north

The trip to Humbolt county at the start of January was, ummm, not quite what we expected. Mike and I actually had made a reservation at a historic B&B in small town outside of Eureka. We never make reservations and thus have started most our trips trekking around looking for a place to stay. After eating an incredible brunch that lasted from 1 to 4 with Sarah and Nic we took off, figured out how to use Mike's ipod to listen to some interesting podcasts (Stuff you never learned in history class is my favorite). (Later buying a cable let us plug it into the car and thus actually hear everything through the much louder car speakers.) I drove curvy dark roads I didn't know in the fog and we arrived to Ferndale around 9 p.m.

Apparently the sidewalks roll up at 8 or 8:30, depending on the day.

The Lost Coast was gorgeous (it's lost because eroding into the sea, always shifting). Having a car let us drive around and explore random spots - a cheese factory in Loleta had viewing windows to the big vats of curds; it was like watching a Mr Roger's episode but in real life. Eureka had a few excellent used bookstores, also we got to tour the Lost Coast Brewery (this micro brew places are so tiny!) and ate lunch at their cafe. Trinidad further north was again gorgeous beaches and ocean too cold to even think about going near. Lots of natural beauty.

Unfortunately I got a fever on the first full day we were there and was very sick for most of the time we were supposed to be relaxing on vacation. Not the best timing, that's for sure. Sore throat, fever, coughing - not enjoyable for anyone around, that's for sure. I lost my appetite, which was a pity considering the HUGE portions of breakfast that came with our room. Granted, they weren't the tastiest examples of their kind. Still, I hate sending a plate off with stuff still on it.

Ferndale was a small town with lots of money, not a bucolic wilderness but one full of vitriol among its residents. We had a lively conversation one night with a gentleman who Mike reminded of his son, a new professor at Harvard under the age of 30 in statistical law. Wild. He wasn't from the town and had an outsider's view on gossip besides his own engaging stories to tell. And arguments to make. It was a diverting evening, but even so, we won't be returning to that spot.

But the redwoods when we were driving back in a misty rain - amazing. We hiked a little loop trail and were amazed at the grandeur, the silence, the sheer hugeness of the trees. It's the place I would go back to for spending more time for sure. Green, immense... beyond beautiful.

In our next episode: Film Noir fest. That'll finish out January's big fun. Stay tuned.