Eureka, California
April 4–7, 2022
April 4–7, 2022
Redwoods! Street art! Neon! Beaches! Grit! Eureka!
I could just leave it there, but I guess I’ll elaborate a bit. On the drive up to Eureka I traveled along Avenue of the Giants, a scenic alternate route parallel to 32 miles of 101. I got to walk among the trees for a little bit before the rain (in California!) kicked up too hard for me to keep going comfortably, then I kept driving. On my first night in Eureka, I tried to stay in a Walmart parking lot. Everyone knows that’s a standby for roadtrippers, right? Not in Eureka, apparently. A young and disaffected security guard knocked on my van at 1:30 am to tell me there’s no overnight parking. No signs anywhere, but whatever—I went on my bleary way. I ended up sleeping in the parking lot of the dog park, which meant I got to take the boys there first thing the next morning. That’s what we call finding a silver lining.
The rest of my time in Eureka was much nicer. I walked the dogs along the Waterfront Trail and through the streets of a town covered in fabulous murals, graffiti, and neon signage. Even the sign for the local soil company is a huge and unnecessary beautiful mural. I spent a couple nights camped at the Samoa Boat Ramp campground, a no-frills parking lot right on a gorgeous beach. On one evening, I drove up to McKinleyville to have dinner with my friends Clancy and Willa, and from them I got the recommendation to visit the Arcata Community Forest. It’s a glorious, sweet-smelling, sun-dappled paradise, and my hike there with the dogs was a highlight of my time in the area. The massive stumps of redwoods that were cut down in years past made my heart heavy, and I stood by them and imagined the ghosts of full trees rising from the stumps, like the columns of light that replaced the Twin Towers after 9/11.
While I was in Arcata, I also got my bike fixed up by the friendly gents at Revolution Bicycles and walked my dogs around the little college town. In both Arcata and Eureka I wound up thinking, not for the first time on this trip, “Man, I could live here.”
I could just leave it there, but I guess I’ll elaborate a bit. On the drive up to Eureka I traveled along Avenue of the Giants, a scenic alternate route parallel to 32 miles of 101. I got to walk among the trees for a little bit before the rain (in California!) kicked up too hard for me to keep going comfortably, then I kept driving. On my first night in Eureka, I tried to stay in a Walmart parking lot. Everyone knows that’s a standby for roadtrippers, right? Not in Eureka, apparently. A young and disaffected security guard knocked on my van at 1:30 am to tell me there’s no overnight parking. No signs anywhere, but whatever—I went on my bleary way. I ended up sleeping in the parking lot of the dog park, which meant I got to take the boys there first thing the next morning. That’s what we call finding a silver lining.
The rest of my time in Eureka was much nicer. I walked the dogs along the Waterfront Trail and through the streets of a town covered in fabulous murals, graffiti, and neon signage. Even the sign for the local soil company is a huge and unnecessary beautiful mural. I spent a couple nights camped at the Samoa Boat Ramp campground, a no-frills parking lot right on a gorgeous beach. On one evening, I drove up to McKinleyville to have dinner with my friends Clancy and Willa, and from them I got the recommendation to visit the Arcata Community Forest. It’s a glorious, sweet-smelling, sun-dappled paradise, and my hike there with the dogs was a highlight of my time in the area. The massive stumps of redwoods that were cut down in years past made my heart heavy, and I stood by them and imagined the ghosts of full trees rising from the stumps, like the columns of light that replaced the Twin Towers after 9/11.
While I was in Arcata, I also got my bike fixed up by the friendly gents at Revolution Bicycles and walked my dogs around the little college town. In both Arcata and Eureka I wound up thinking, not for the first time on this trip, “Man, I could live here.”
