It's All About Perspective

I never saw an ugly thing in my life: for let the form of an object be what it may, - light, shade, and perspective will always make it beautiful.

--John Constable

This morning was my last few hours at Mackerricher State Park.  It is an incredibly beautiful place, but it was time to go.  I was looking forward to moving on to see the giant redwoods in Humboldt County.   After reading reviews of various places to stay, I picked one called “Giant Redwoods RV & Camp” which had good reviews online and was part of a discount program I purchased before leaving on this whole adventure.  I was anticipating getting there, but it was a gorgeous morning with a flawless sky and the temperatures just starting to rise into t-shirt territory, so I decided to take one last little walk to the beach before I left.  I headed south along the same jogging trail I was on the other day.  A small forest of trees was on my right, sandwiched between the path and the ocean, and their thick broom of branches swept away most of the sounds of the not-too-distant surf.   

Woods between the jogging path and the ocean

I found a narrow path through the trees and crossed the woods in the direction of the water.  After a short distance, the path opened up into a large, flat grassy plain and continued on towards the cliffs above the water’s edge.  As I ambled down the path, the soft muffled ocean sounds gradually became louder and more insistent on being heard.  I made my way closer to the cliffs, which weren’t really that tall, but stood maybe 30’ above the barnacle-encrusted rocks below.    The tide was out, so many jagged boulders were visible.  I watched the surf pounding in; the deep blue waves swelling until they became topped with frothy white crowns, and then rolling over on themselves onto the rocks, as if they were trying to scratch their backs on the crusty crevices in the stone protruding up from the sea floor.  I thought how beautiful and awe-inspiring the waves were as they tumbled onto the rocks and melted through the little channels and mini rivers between them.  They had so much power, yet so much grace as well.  I considered that if I were in the water, though, I’d have a very different perspective and experience.  I’d be cold and wet and pummeled.  Yet here I was, safe and warm on the shore and seeing the scene completely differently.   I suppose there are a lot of things like that, where having a different perspective changes an experience.  The ocean can be beautiful and safe, or exciting and dangerous at the same time.  It’s not necessarily one or the other, but it’s both. 

Jonathan Livingston contemplating the ocean waves with me

I realized that I could take this same observation to other places in life. For example, while waiting in line at a grocery store (I seem to have the worst line luck):  I could be frustrated and annoyed, and view it as a waste of my time to have to stand there and have an unpleasant experience.  Or I could take advantage of the few extra moments of time to myself and figure out what I am going to do later on, gather my thoughts on any problems I’m facing, or start up an entertaining conversation with the person in line next to me.  The perspective I take can have a huge impact on my mood and overall experience.

After the contemplating, I decided it was time to return to my van and get ready to leave.  I walked along the boardwalk on the way back, and noticed the words “You Found It” carved into the wood.  This reminded me of Geocaching, and I decided to quickly check my phone for any Geocaches in the area. (For those of you that don’t know, Geocaching is a fun world-wide game where people hide things and put the map coordinates of them online.  You can download the coordinates and use a GPS device to try to locate them. Try it!). As I checked my Geocache app, I was delighted to find that there were several of them in the park, and two of them were only a few hundred yards from where I was. I took a few minutes and found them—one of them was hidden in a tree, and the other was under a bench.  It was about 15 minutes well spent, as it gave me a few last minutes to explore the park before heading out. 

I found a Geocache!

I drove north on Highway 1 until it merged onto 101 near Leggett, and eventually onto 254—the Avenue of the Giants.  Just as Highway 254 is called “Avenue of the Giants,” I think that 101 just south of 254 should be called “Avenue of the Giant Tourist Traps.”  Other than the redwood trees, there isn’t a whole lot going on in this area so several of the small towns have created "things to see" along the way.  I passed several kitschy little tourist “attraptions” like the Drive Through Tree in Leggett (there’s also a Drive Through Tree in Meyer’s Flat near where I’m staying), Confusion Hill (I’m confused why anyone would pay $5 to go into this place), the Grandfather Tree (not sure why it’s called that as they didn’t seem to have a grandkid tree), the One-Log House (someone put a door and a window on a giant redwood trunk), the Legend of Big Foot Stop  (guess they wanted something other than redwood trees to pitch), and several others. I stopped briefly at the Confusion Hill just for a picture, but continued on past the others.  

My van doesn't look so giant now

As I passed the Big Foot place in Garberville, I came to the south end of Highway 254 at Phillipsville (I didn’t notice any tourist traps in Phillipsville, unfortunately).  The Avenue of the Giants starts here at Phillipsville and runs for about 31 miles through the Humboldt Redwoods State Park.  It is a narrow, sinuous, two-lane highway that  snakes its way alongside the Eel river and through the redwoods.  Some of the trees in the park are almost 1000 years old, and up to 300 feet tall.  If I thought Highway 128 was incredible, then 254 is absolutely fantastic! I drove about 10 miles to Meyers Flat where the Giant Redwoods RV and Camp is located. I could hardly wait to get there and unpack my bike and go for a ride on this enchanting road.   When I arrived at the RV park, though,  I was a bit underwhelmed.  It certainly didn’t look like the 4-star rated place on TripAdvisor and the 4.2-star Google-reviewed place I had seen online.  Perhaps Dutcher Creek had been –too- nice and set my expectations too high.  I was originally planning to stay two nights at the Redwoods, but my mind quickly said, “Make it 1 night.”  Meyers Flat is pretty run down.  The town consists of a restaurant that is boarded up and closed, a laundromat that is boarded up and closed, a bar that is boarded up and closed, a “grocery store” that has very little in the way of actual groceries, a redwood mulch company, a few run down cars, and an RV park. 

It's a tourist trap...not that confusing.

There's not even a Starbucks! I pulled into the park, which surprisingly looked a little more promising than the not-quite-a-town outside and went to the office to register.  A large man who looked like a cross between Santa Clause and Larry the Cable Guy glanced up from behind a desk as I walked in.  I asked him if he had any spots available, and he tapped on a computer at his desk and frowned.  I could see the park was about half full, so I wasn’t sure what he was frowning at.  “I can never figure out this computer program,” he huffed under his breath.  After a moment of huffing and staring, he said, “We have a spot available.”  With the discount program I joined, my rate for the night was a whopping $17.  I warily handed Santa Guy my credit card and momentarily thought of using cash, but then figured credit cards generally are safer, and the charges can be reversed later if there are problems.  He then spent several minutes trying to figure out the computer again which actually reassured me: if he had trouble figuring out how to legitimately charge my card, there was less chance that he would do something improper with the credit card number later on. 

Can hardly see the tops!

While he was trying to figure it out, a kid of about 17 years old came into the office and grabbed an iced tea out of the cooler.  Santa Guy pulled his glasses down an inch or so on his nose, tipped his head down and looked at the kid out the top of his eyes.  I figured there must be something going on between them, but wasn’t sure what.  Without a word, he went back to trying to figure out the computer.  “You know how this thing works?” he gruffed to the screen.  I thought he might be talking to me and I was about to tell him that I had no idea how their billing system worked, when the kid stammered, “No, my dad hasn’t shown me yet.”   Another huff from Santa Guy indicated that he was not pleased at the lack of help from the kid. I deduced that there was not a real friendly relationship between the two.   More moments passed as Santa Guy tried to figure out the computer, the kid just standing there holding his can of Arizona Iced Tea. 

“Do you get a discount on those, or do you gotta pay full price?” Santa Guy asked him, again not looking up.

“I don’t know,” the kid meekly replied.

“Well go ask your dad and come back and tell me.”  At that point, I saw a twinge of a smile at the edge of Santa Guy’s mouth as the kid left.  “Ok, there it is.” He apparently figured out how to charge my card.

The kid came back a few moments later and said “I get an employee discount.”  No word from Santa Guy.

I tried to ease the tension; “Dad gives you a discount on things here, eh? Being in the family has its perks I guess!”

No smile from the kid.  He nervously replied, “Well, I clean the bathrooms and bundle up wood here.”

“Oh.  Ok.” was all I could come back with.

“Yes, only one night here will be good,” I reaffirmed to Santa Guy.

I parked my RV in spot 4, about 10 feet away from the RV right next to me that appeared to have been here for at least 9 months.  I looked around the park. “Well, it’s close to the River, and it is actually pretty clean,” I justified to myself. I remembered my thoughts at the ocean earlier, and I changed my perspective. The bathrooms are new, the location is nice, and it’s only $17 for the night. It gives me a place to empty my holding tank, I can hook up to electricity, and the showers won’t cost any quarters.  Things weren't all that bad.

As I was hooking up, an old gentleman came out of the RV next to me.  He actually was quite friendly and asked if I needed any help.  I talked with him briefly and found out that his name is Gene and that he and his wife have been driving around the country for about 7 years.  He said they plan to keep on going another 15 years at it as long as his health keeps up.  I asked him about the area around here, and he was quite pleased with it.  “Make sure you check out the visitor’s center for the redwoods, which is about 4 miles north up the road!”

That gave me motivation to get going on a ride.  I unpacked my bike and took off to explore.

What. A. Ride.  Riding along highway 254 was quite a treat.  I couldn’t see the tops of the redwoods above me, and as I breathed in deeply I could smell the rich, woodsy aroma of the redwood bark and undergrowth. 

The Travel Log - Almost as cool as my RV!

I came up to the Visitor’s Center and remembered Gene’s recommendation so I stopped and went it. It actually was quite interesting.  They had a few exhibits about Charles Kellogg, who was a naturalist that apparently made a living out of being able to “sing like the birds.” He also had built something called “The Travel Log,” which was essentially a giant redwood trunk converted into an RV (kind of like the One Log House I saw about 30 miles back on 101!).  As I was looking around the Visitor’s Center, I heard a small voice squeak, “Excuse me!”  I looked down and saw a little man of about three years old.  He was  wearing a bright green t-shirt and had a head of curls like a sheep.

Last cool picture of trees, I promise!

“Yes?” I answered him.

 “I’d like to show you something.”  He was standing next to a kid-height display that contained a series of drawers with small holes fitted with cloth gloves on the front of each drawer.  Kids could stick their hands into the hole and, through the glove, try to guess what was inside. The top of the drawer would lift up so they could see what was really inside.  “First I stick my hand in this sock, and look!” He pried open the lid of one of the drawers and revealed a giant sea shell.

“Wow! A sea shell!” I exclaimed and encouraged him on.  His father looked at me and apologized, but I told him it was no problem.

“Excuse me!” he said again to me, even though I was already staring at him.  “I’d like to show you something.” 

“Ok, what would you like to show me now?”

He placed his hand into the hole of the drawer next to the one he just opened.  “First I stick my hand in this sock, and look!”  He repeated his same script from earlier.  He opened this drawer, which contained some deer antlers.

“Wow! Antlers!” I exclaimed.

“No, they’re sticks.” He corrected me.

“Oh, of course they are!” I played along.

“Ok, Kyle, that’s enough,” his father said.

Completely ignoring his dad, Kyle continued on.  “Excuse me!” he again said to me.  This went on for about 5 minutes, as he went through each of the drawers, each with the same script, and revealed some redwood bark, a mountain lion’s paw (gross), and a giant knot from a redwood tree.  He started to repeat the act with the seashell again before his father jumped in.

“Kyle, you’ve already done that one.”  He grabbed Kyle by the arm, apologized to me again, and smiled in an embarrassed way.  I told him it really was no problem, and that I was quite entertained by the whole show. 

Eventually I left the Visitor’s Center and continued on my ride.  I went about 26 miles before returning to the Giant Redwoods RV and Camp.  Even though the camp site was not what I expected, and there was no Starbucks, the area around it exceeded what I was looking for.  So I figure that on average, it has all worked out so far.  I got a good bike ride, some good stories to tell, a hot shower, and semi-decent Internet access--all for only $17 and a slight change in perspective.