Last weekend Tyler and I took a short camping trip. Our first stop was outside of Pt. Arena on the north coast. Tyler was following some back roads that Google maps had directed us to. The drive was beautiful, even soothing, and when we arrived at the coastline, the view, of course, was vast and stunning. The traffic was surprisingly light; I would even dare to say easy going. Our intention was to attend an art fair the next day. The campsite, located on a ridge outside of town and privately owned, was quiet, and we both appreciated the view. Although the fog did eventually roll in, the weather was mild. In the morning we heard peacocks, crows, owls, and several other birds who had much to say about the beginning of the day. Two deer walked into the clearing where we were camped, and they seemed surprised to find us there, and were not particularly comfortable with our presence. Deer are wisely wary, and these two had upright and surprisingly large and agile ears that appeared to be always listening. The size of the ears leads me to think these were mule deer.
We arrived at the art fair a little early, and we walked along the couple of blocks of Pt. Arena's main street where the fair was being set up. Most of the residents seemed to be in good spirits as the annual event was getting underway. However, we really did not see anything that we found particularly interesting, with the exception of some succulents one woman was selling. She said she grows them herself, and I am a little sorry I did not pick one up. The weather was mild enough that it would have probably made it home. However, we are definitely in a "no more stuff" stage of life. We decided to leave town earlier than expected and drive on to Boonville, where again, we had reservations to camp on private property. Tyler opted to take the winding Mountain Blvd. route, a journey of about an hour, mostly through forested areas.
Tyler and I are of a different mind when it comes to forests. He finds healing when he is among those tall beings and their long shadows. I tend to get a little claustrophobic. It is not that I do not love trees; it's just that I prefer them to be a little more spread out. Too much shadow and density feels slightly menacing, and whenever we come to a clearing, however briefly, I find I breathe a little easier.
As we journeyed, Tyler looked at the map and announced, "We are crossing Bear Wallow Creek." My own deerish ears came to attention. "There are bears here? We don't have a bear box to store our food!" I thought he seemed remarkably unconcerned. As we travelled on, I realized that while we have driven through Anderson Valley many times, I knew nothing about the mountains that surround the valley. (I also did not know that bears like to wallow.) When we met the property owner of our campsite, I asked if he had ever seen a bear on his property. He replied no, only boars. We saw neither bear nor boar while we were there, but when we took a walk on Sunday morning, we came across an uneven area where wild pigs had been rooting. As I walked across it, I wondered if there was not some benefit (other than to the pigs) in the resulting upheaval. I looked down as my footing was unsteady, and in the early sunlight, I could see many small spider webs that were spread across the areas that had been ripped apart. The dew was heavy that morning, so the webs were adorned with glistening drops that looked like tiny jewels. Suddenly, I felt I was the invading marauder as I became aware of my alien hiking boots and pole.
The Anderson Valley was stunning. While the drought had obviously killed some trees, we saw many healthy large trees, including live oak. Grass and wildflowers were growing everywhere and the day temperature was moderate, although the night was chilly, and the morning dew was very heavy. At one point I stepped out of the camper in the early morning just as the almost full moon was setting. Stars were clearly visible in the very dark sky, and the bright moon was vanishing behind a layer of fog that had turned a deep pinkish orange - a startling contrast and an exquisite sight. Our time there was idyllic; for a while we had no thoughts of politicians, climate change, or bay area traffic. We had to do nothing but enjoy tending to our camp and relishing what we were seeing and experiencing.
When we arrived at the property, it took awhile to find it as we had to navigate another winding road up into the Yorkville Highlands. Eventually, we were able to reach the property owner who guided us to where we needed to be. He asked if we wanted to camp by the creek or on the ridge. Tyler was leaning towards the creek option, but I was concerned that it would be damp and shadowy. He agreed, and the ridge was beautiful. Our Sunday morning was filled with a choir of birdsong, including, yes, the sound of peacocks.
I took very few photographs on this trip because I was experiencing some issues with keeping my phone charged. It is also not an easy area to photograph. There is a lot of fencing present, probably to deter deer, boars, and maybe the occasional bear. Yes, there are bears in Mendocino County. The large predators have not fared well as farms, towns, and vineyards became more prevalent, but I read they may be making a comeback. The perpetual question is how do we humans live in balance with wildlife that also includes other large predators beside ourselves? We humans may need to realize that no matter how settled we might feel, we are all just temporarily camping here.
We are enjoying our truck because it gives us some freedom to explore which was exactly what we were hoping for. We are very much aware of the serious issues concerning fossil fuels, so we try to offset our consumption at least a little bit by driving an electric vehicle when possible, composting and recycling, tending to a pollinator friendly garden, and paying attention to packaging. We are describing these first short camping expeditions as practicing. We are learning what we need, and the most economical, both from a practical standpoint as well as environmental, way to pack it. We have always travelled well together, mostly because we usually listen to one another, and that usually enables us to find compromises that allow wisdom to surface. We both are curious and respectful of the flora and fauna and we recognize that they are the true residents of the land. I feel these journeys to be a deep calling to simply go, see, and reflect. I am convinced that we first world humans need to experience more of nature, rather than just trying to conquer it. Such explorations may help us learn the fine art of appreciation, which hopefully will lead us to more deeply rooted conservation efforts.
We rely on GoogleMaps and a backup of a paper map, although I forgot the paper map this time. Fortunately, we did not need it. Yes, we were relatively close to home, but I find paper maps helpful and informative, and cell coverage can be spotty. Our reservations were booked through an app Tyler discovered called Hipcamp, which worked flawlessly for us, and we will use it again.
image: View from our campsite in the Yorkville Highlands. I cropped the image to make the file size a little more manageable. The actual view is much more vast, despite the fencing. Anderson Valley gets very hot in the summer. Go now if you can!
