TRAVELOGUE Part 4: Mendocino, Then and Now
We finally arrived in Mendocino on the California coast on Monday, May 24. Mendocino is a picturesque tourist town in northern California. Once a booming lumber mill town, Mendocino is now designated as a Historic Village, and that’s why we are here volunteering. We work for Mendo Parks, a non-profit organization that maintains and staffs the historic buildings and visitors centers within the state parks in this area.
When we pulled in, we met Amelia, our volunteer coordinator. She showed us to our campsite, dropped off our volunteer vests and working papers and, the next day, we went to the police station in Fort Bragg to be fingerprinted.
Instead of inking our fingers, the woman used a live scan computer program. We chatted about the technology, the area, and we asked her for restaurant recommendations. She told us that the best fish markets are down by Noyo Harbor and only open Thursday through Sunday, so we opted to share an order of fish and chips from a recommended Mexican restaurant nearby.
We took our food to the parking lot overlooking the Noyo River, and watched kayakers float by as we enjoyed our meal. The fish was flaky, the batter was crisp, and the coleslaw was creamy, but not overly so. Then we took Tillie to the off leash dog beach around the corner for her very first beach run.
While I made my way across the short, rocky beach, Tillie headed straight to the water. When she reached the surf, she broke into a full on Greyhound racetrack run. She ran to one end of the coved beach, then back to the other, then headed toward me, full speed. I called her name, raised my hand in the air, and she dug her feet in the sand as she came to a stop in front of me, ready for a treat. I don’t know who was happier.
She ran for a while longer, and then we got back in the car and drove to find the neighborhood dog park, but we didn’t stop because there were six dogs there. When we got home, Tillie watched the wildlife out the back window, then crashed for the rest for the day. She was almost too tired to get up for dinner.
Meanwhile, Marika and I continued to “move in.” We filled the water tanks so that we can use the water pump to get better water pressure for showering. We arranged two strands of bright white Christmas lights on the ground under and around the RV to deter mice from eating the wires and insulation, and we filled out our volunteer paperwork. I did ride two circles around the neighborhood, but it was damp and I was underdressed. And I was grumpy.
After spending the last year and a half visualizing our volunteering gig in southern Oregon, where we were supposed to be working this summer as wildlife interpreters, and camping at a park with direct and easy, dog beach access, I was having a slow time letting go of that vision and embracing being here.
Every volunteer job offers a unique RV camping setup. Sometimes we are with one or two other campers in a designated host area, sometimes our spot is right in the campground, next to campers. Sometimes we are in a village with other volunteers. Here, the volunteer sites are on the same property as the State Park’s offices, maintenance yards, and employee housing for the entire Mendocino-Sonoma Parks District.
The front half of the property is the maintenance yard, with wood shops, garages, heavy equipment, and all kinds of park maintenance materials. The back section is the neighborhood, with volunteer campsites mixed in between assorted employee housing: fifth wheels, trailers, one room cabins, and two bedroom cottages, painted brown with evergreen window trim, to match the forest.
Our campsite has a wide deck that’s big enough for our chairs, the grill, Marika’s propane fire pit, and two carpets for Tillie to lie on. We have a front lawn, gorgeous flower beds, and we get a good amount of light and sun. I love our campsite. But we are in the forest.
I do appreciate the calming, grounding feeling that washes over me when I breathe in the trees. It feels like a soothing bath. But I miss the cleansing, energizing glory of the rolling waves and the wide open horizon.
Yes, the ocean is just across the highway, but the road from here to the beach is long and windy and all downhill, about 200’ elevation change in a very short distance, which means it’s too difficult to walk or ride. And dogs have to be on a leash on the beach. But there is a beach. And there are many places that I can drive to and then bike, so I’m adjusting.
I am surprised that, instead of lamenting that I’m not riding as much as I had been, I’m delighted that I now have a walking companion. I took up bike riding when Cody and Marika weren’t able to walk very far, and I needed some kind of physical activity.
Tillie and I walk several times a day, and I feel like I’m strengthening all new muscles. We have found a comfortable trail pace together, and we both stop when the other asks. One night, after the employees were gone and the maintenance yard was asleep, we walked twice around the circle, her sniffing the edges of the bushes, and me catching peeks of the full moon between the branches.
In the morning, I was going to take her for a walk, but she was back at her window, so I thought I’d go for a quick ride instead. As soon as she heard me putting my jacket on, she came over. I wasn’t ready to try to ride with her, so instead, we went for a walk. We started in the neighborhood, sniffing the fence line of the across the street neighbors, where, earlier, a young, unleashed dog had peed several times.
We walked past the yard with the cats, but they weren’t there, and I said hello to Lexi, the dog who is afraid of other dogs, as we walked by. Her bark turned to whimpers, so maybe there is hope. We continued up the road to the top of the circle, then turned right, toward the maintenance yard. But instead of circling home, we turned onto the North Boundary Trail. Denise said it was a steep climb, and then it leveled out. Marika had walked it in the morning and said that, after the trail leveled out, it went downhill, so she had turned around. I wanted to check it out for myself.
The uphill was a holy hell of a climb, from 100’ to 200’ elevation in a very short distance. Tillie walked a few steps ahead of me and we maintained a slow, easy pace. I paused several times to breathe and look around at the variety of trees and plants. We were truly living in the forest.
As soon as the trail leveled out, Tillie stopped and stood by my side. I looked around, listened. I didn’t see anything. But there are black bears, mountain lions, deer and fox in the area. I took a few steps forward but she was still hesitant. I asked her if she wanted to turn around, and she did, and I followed her back down the trail.
On Wednesday, two days after we arrived, we had our first day of training at The Ford House in Mendocino, just 3 miles south of our neighborhood. The Ford House was built in 1854 and serves as a museum and visitors center for the nearby state parks. It was a full seven hours of learning the history of The Ford House and the town of Mendocino, how to use the Point of Sale computer system, the cash in and cash out procedures, how to fly the bird kites and hang the flags, where things are stored, who to call for assistance.
We did a great job, ringing up sales without incident, talking with visitors, asking Cindy, our boss, when we didn’t know the answers. And I even learned the secret route to the post office, because one of us will check the PO Box during our shift.
It was also Tillie’s longest time alone. The neighbor said she cried for the first five minutes, and then was quiet. We’re guessing she spent much of the day on the bed, watching out the big back window where Marika created a comfortable perch for her. She was lounging on the sofa when we got home, all chill, then very wiggly when she realized, oh, you’re HOME!!
We returned to work on Thursday for another six hour training day. This time, Cindy worked upstairs in her office, available if we needed anything. We raised the flags, put out the bird kites, counted the cash, opened the register, and greeted all of the guests.
We took turns sharing some history with visitors. The Pomo Indians lived in this area for 12,000 years, hunting inland in the fall and winter, and coming to the coast in the spring and summer to fish and gather plants. In 1850, the Frolic, a ship from China heading to San Francisco, was shipwrecked near Point Cabrillo. A lumber mill owner from San Francisco sent Jerome Ford to the area to salvage the ship. Nothing was left of the ship, but Ford saw all of the redwood trees and suggested they build a mill on the headlands. Soon after, Mendocino became a thriving lumber mill town.
We point to the 1/12 scale diorama of 1890 Mendocino that prompts a conversation about the water towers around town, then and now. Mendocino was, and still is on a well system. These days the towers are mostly decorative, but there are a few that have been converted into B&Bs. We share that Jerome Ford had this redwood house built for his wife in 1854, with the original kitchen and dining room in the basement, and that it was the second house built in Mendocino. We point out Portuguese Flats and Chinatown, and explain the roles that these cultures played in the community.
We move into the second room and point to the photographs of the oxen hauling logs, the dammed rivers, the mill equipment, and explain how they transported the cut logs to the mill. And then I show them a model of the precarious apron chutes that they used to move the cut wood planks from the headlands down to the waiting barges in the turbulent water below.
We talk about how, by the 1950’s, the lumber industry died, the trees were gone, and Mendocino became a ghost town. And that’s when the artists moved in. When the developers came in the 1960’s, wanting to build homes and business all along the Headlands, Emmy Lou Packard, a local artist and friend of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, gathered the community and worked with the League of Women Voter to fight against the development. In the 1970’s, the state of California acquired all of these miles of coastline and headlands, to protect and preserve it for future generations to appreciate and enjoy.
Then we answers any questions, thank them for their attention, and invite them to also check out the special wildflower exhibit in the back room.
Sometimes people ask for restaurant recommendations, or the best place to see redwoods. Some visitors ask about the TV show, Murder, She Wrote, that was filmed here in the 80’s and 90’s.
I enjoy giving the tours. (I do have a minor in theater.) I stumble sometimes, usually trying to remember Emmy Lou Packard’s name, but the visitors are gracious and understanding, and I often make a joke about it. And I love when they appreciate the experience enough to leave a donation.
On our third working day, just when we were getting comfortable at the Ford House, we went to work with our neighbor, Denise, at the Visitors Center at Van Damme State Park, another place we’ll be working this summer. The register and sales systems are the same as at The Ford House. The biggest difference is that it’s in a campground, not in town, so it’s a different kind of visitor. It was the first time the visitors center was open for the season. We greeted four visitors, sold two hoodies, and Denise decided to close an hour early, so we were home by 3:30. And ready for the next seven days off.
Marika wanted to pick up Indian-Middle Eastern food for dinner at the restaurant next to the gas station in Fort Bragg, so we harnessed Tillie up and drove into town. I wasn’t in the mood for that cuisine, but I was too exhausted to look for an alternative. Then I remembered there was a Japanese restaurant nearby, and, since we were getting our food to go, I chose one restaurant and Marika chose another.
We took our meals to the Noyo Headlands parking lot for the ocean view from the car. And we saw that there was a dog park right there. So after our respective, delicious, hit the spot meals, Tillie got to play ball, and run, and smell, off leash.
The next day, our first day off, I slept until after nine. After so many weeks of planning, organizing, orchestrating, and re-routing, and then three, seven hour days of training, this was the first day I didn’t have to hold ANY information. My whole being was so happy for a day to be loose and free and relaxed. No plans (except the Farmer’s Market), no have to do’s (except a beach walk), and no information to remember.
A little before noon we drove into Mendocino to go to the Mendocino Farmers Market. But silly me, the market is on Friday, not Saturday. So I asked Marika to drive me to see Big River Beach. We turned back onto Highway 1 and drove less than a mile south to the Big River turnoff. All along the river, there were gulls, as well as holiday weekend kayakers and paddle boarders, families and free running dogs, even though it is a leash beach.
We drove a little further south, through more redwoods and Douglas firs, and so many varieties of plants and flowers, looking to see if there was a Little River beach. We ended up in the town of Little River, at the two-pump gas station, that also had a dinner restaurant, and a well-stocked market. I browsed the prepared food options – salads, burritos, corn dogs, hummus, sandwiches – while Marika finally bought her first California lottery ticket.
We stopped into the Little River Improvement Club and Museum, housed in the town’s original 1885 community hall. The docent, a scraggly bearded man in his 60’s, told us that he and his wife moved to the area in 2018, a life long dream, and he is the new director of the museum. He plans to host art shows and concerts, to re-create the community gathering ambience.
It was still a cold 53° and overcast, so we skipped a beach walk and headed home. My ideal weather is 65° and partly sunny. Anything over 78° is too warm for my comfort. And now I’ve discovered that anything below 60°, without the sun, and especially with wind, is the cold edge of my outdoor comfort.
And my wardrobe reflects this. I have eight pairs of shorts and only three pairs of jeans. Fortunately I have long sleeved T shirts, sweatshirts, a fleece vest and jacket that I can layer to keep warm. And I wear a camisole under it all to keep my core warm. I also have gloves and an ear cover that I wear on my evening walks with Tillie, but I may have to get a ski cap for longer outings. But inside, I prefer to have the window cracked when the heat is on, so that I can breathe.
Marika runs even colder than me, though her feet and hands never get cold. She prefers to be toasty warm, and will sit on the sofa in front of the electric heater with her sweatshirt zipped up and the hood over her head, with a blanket on her lap. Thankfully, we both like to sleep with the window open, so she wears heavy sweatpants and her hoody, while I’m in a t-shirt and lightweight pants, happy under my sheet-duvet-blanket layers. And, if there is no wind, I can hear the ocean as I’m falling asleep.
On our second day off, I slept until TEN, and in the afternoon, the three of us drove further north than we’ve been, through Fort Bragg, past MacKerricher State Park, past Cleone, where friends have just built a cabin, to Seaside Creek Beach. It’s a dream spot with a wide, flat, sandy, walking beach where dogs are allowed to run off leash. And boy, did she.
She headed straight for the low tide surf and took off running along the water line to the left, then she headed up into the sand, turned a full speed circle around me, and headed back to the water. Twice, without stopping, just full on running.
I started walking in the opposite direction along the low rolling surf, calling her to walk with me, and she did. And then she took off, chasing a sparrow toward the water. I worried that she would chase it into the surf, but she stopped before her feet even got wet. We practiced walking together, at our own paces, back and forth in the wet sand. We sat on a rock for a bit, watching the water, and then I leashed Tillie and we walked together, back to the car. She and Marika napped much of the rest of the day, while I wrote and relaxed on the sofa, watching TV.
After two days of sleeping late, and mostly hanging out at home, I woke up on day three feeling rested and rejuvenated and ready to take care of things. I drove into Fort Bragg, about seven miles north, did the laundry, and went food shopping. I was shocked by the California tourist town prices.
Gas is four dollars plus per gallon, bananas are 79 cents a pound, an ice cream cone at McDonald’s is $1.99, and a lunch portion of fish and chips, without coleslaw, starts at $17.00. Last summer, in Oregon, we paid $3.19 for gas, 59 cents for bananas, $1.00 for an ice cream cone, and $14.00 for twice the serving size of fish and chips, and it even came with coleslaw. M joked that we can’t eat out as often, unless we’re going to Taco Bell or McDonald’s.
One afternoon I drove into Fort Bragg and checked out several of the many thrift stores. I didn’t buy anything, but it was fun to look. The next afternoon we visited the Mendocino Coast Botanical Gardens, another gorgeous place to stroll among bursts of colors and scents, with walking paths that lead to wide open ocean views. Marika enjoyed walking there so much that she converted her admission price into a membership.
We checked out the Mendocino Farmers Market the following Saturday, and I was surprised that there were so few vendors. We did buy a delicious loaf of challah and Marika enjoyed a pasillo chile and cheese tamale. Then we found the trail behind the Presbyterian Church and followed it to a long set of steps down to the ocean side of Big River Beach. But instead of walking on the beach, we opted to stay up on the headlands and follow the trail for the views.
The colors of the water here are clear and sharp, with so many variations of blues and greens, and every view is different. The raw cliffs, exposed tree roots, burst of wildflowers, and the houses perched on the edges of the earth are stunning. And when the sun is out, and the sky is blue, it really feels like heaven.
The next day we went back to work at The Ford House. After so many days off, we were both worried that we’d forgotten everything, but we had a great day. We greeted 91 visitors and gave 18 tours between us. And we sold lots from the gift shop, too.
I worked several retail jobs in my early days, so I have experience and confidence ringing up sales, making change, balancing a cash drawer. Marika was a nurse all of her working life. She has experience counting medications, but anything to do with money immediately makes her anxious. In previous volunteering gigs that involved a cash register, Marika asked me to do most of the sales. But this time she has stepped up and embraced this sales part of the job. She said the computer system is clear and easy, and, even if she’s slow at counting the money, she’s accurate every time.
This has given me a great opportunity to practice patience, and support her desire to take on such a stressful challenge. And while she’s counting the drawer at the beginning and end of the working day, I get to wrangle the flags, my least favorite job.
On Memorial Day, I started the day grumpy and edgy, so I took a quick bike around the neighborhood, first alone, and then with Tillie. She trotted next to me instead of her usual, full speed run, and she stayed to my left so that I could have both hands hovering over the brakes. We rode at her pace, through the maintenance yard and up to the office. We stopped so we could turn around, but then we did our first left turn, back around the yard. And she stayed next to me the entire ride.
And then Marika and I went to work. We had a good day, with 61 visitors and 16 tours. We met fun people, and had interesting conversations. One woman said I was a spitfire.
When we came home, I took Tillie for a walk around, we ate our respective dinners, and watched an episode of Mare of Eastwood together. Tillie enjoyed being outside on her cable, lying on the carpet, watching for chipmunks and squirrels and birds. She is quiet and patient and, when she spots one, she stands up and stares, and her whole body quivers.
As I was entering our hours on the state parks volunteer page, I saw an notice that they were looking for volunteers for the Share the Beach Docent Outreach Program, which included educating people about the snowy plover.
We were snowy plover docents in Oregon in 2019, and since we’re only working two to three days a week at The Ford House, I asked Marika is she’d be interested in volunteering. She said yes, so I emailed the woman in charge and included my Snowy Plover Song. She was delighted, and we attended the training the next day.
We’ll be working about five hours a month, interacting with people along a stretch of the coast that is a snowy plover nesting area, as well as a conservation area for plants, flowers, and other wildlife. It will be great to be outside, walking on the beach, talking with people, and directing dog owners to the leash free beaches.
And now that we have our schedule for the rest of the month, I can create a routine for me, for Tillie, for getting things done. I can get a morning lap or two of riding in around the neighborhood, take Tillie on a couple of walks, and make my lunch before we leave for work at 10:15. And on our days off, I can stick to that same schedule, and be ready for whatever we’re doing that day.
This past week, it’s been in the low 60’s and the sun has been out almost every day. This means blue skies, crisp ocean colors, and that I can wear just a long sleeved T-shirt over my camisole, which makes me very happy.
And Marika is in bird heaven. We have stellar jays, song sparrows, olive sided flycatchers, acorn woodpeckers, chestnut backed chickadees, robins, doves, ravens, crows, turkey vultures, and two kinds of hummingbirds in the neighborhood. And, according to her e-bird app, there are more than 300 species within 20 miles, many of them in and around MacKerricher State Park, just 10 miles up the road.
Later this week we’ll be exploring the trails there. We camped at MacKerricher in 1996 when we spent two weeks RVing along the northern California coast. We both remember walking back from the seal rookery on the boardwalk trail, where we met a woman in high heels, who asked us, with a very strong, nasally New York accent, “Is it far? How far is it?” A few days later, Marika and I were hiking up a steep hill carrying our bicycles, lost and exhausted, and we kept asking each other, “Is it far? How far is it?”
I remember how much we loved the quaint, quiet town of Mendocino then. We only spent a morning there, so that Marika could go on a bird walk on the Headlands. I remember just sitting on a bench, watching the waves, and then eating the most delicious apricot cheesecake with a ginger graham cracker crust. The bakery is no longer there, but yesterday, we picked up Chinese food from Lee’s Chinese in Fort Bragg, a restaurant we rode our bikes to from MacKerricher all those years ago.
This time we took our food to the new Pomo Bluffs Park parking lot, rolled down the car windows, and ate with chopsticks, right out of the containers. The waves were rolling and crashing against the rocks, and there were so many shades of blue in the water and the sky.
Then Marika took out her binoculars, and Tillie and I took a walk along the bluffs. She was so intent on tracking the scents in the flowers and grasses, that I had to keep pulling her away from the edges. Afterwards, we got two of those $1.99 ice cream cones at McDonald’s and shared them three ways.
When we got home, I hooked Tillie to her cable and she went right to the end of the deck where the chipmunks hang out. Marika filled her bird feeders, and I got on my bike for a quick ride around. Welcome home, indeed.
