Heading out of Jenner the road gets really steep and curvaceous until Fort Ross. Fort Ross was originally settled by the Russians. Past Sea Ranch and Albion, LIttle River and Elk to Gualala. (See Below) What a sweet, quiet little town with water right up to its doors. My friend Ruth and I stayed at the The Breakers. My seagull buddy posed for most of my pictures. Next we headed up to Mendocino, more trendy with galleries, shops and the Mendocino Music festival. We stayed at the Sea Gull Inn amongst blooms of flowers everywhere. The cool, foggy weather encourages flowers all summer. Good food, art and musical instrument and clothing stores were trolled. We had breakfast served in our bed there, giant home made blueberry muffins, yogurt, fruit and fresh OJ.
I have never seen so many people in one place in my life. Sure, I don't go to alot of major concerts. But there was at least 70,000 people crammed into A T & T ball park in San Franciso for the McCartney concert. It was 3 hours of non stop Beatles music (with some Wings and more recent songs thrown in). We took the Ferry from Marin County to San Francisco, had dinner at the Ferry Building and walked across the street to the Hyatt Regency and left our bags. We took the Muni underground to the ball park and waded through thousands of people to get into the park. Although he started an hour late, it was a phenomenal concert!! The music evoked past memories. Paul talked to us after each song and it felt so personal. We all seemed as one...a sea of bodies swaying together. But instead of lit cigarette lighters held aloft as in the old days...the light of thousands of cell phones flickered across the crowd, snapping pictures of the band. Wierd. After streaming out like a sea of salmon, we crammed our way onto the trolley car back to the Hyatt. Slept late and found an open German restaurant in the Embarcadero just as the World Cup finals started. Ate spaetzle and watched Spain defeat Netherlands. Back home on the ferry watching the city fade from view as fog crept in and shrouded it with white.
Well, its good to be home. Eastern Oregon, between Ritzville and Bend, was high desert in bloom with purple, yellow, reds and greens. Old farm towns on highway 97 were bereft of mini mall and fast food. Whittling, craggy farmers sported bibbed Overalls. In 1911, Shariko was essentially abandoned and has become one of the ghost towns of Eastern Oregon. 25 residents remain. I loved the old wagons, wooden buildings intact but gray, weathered and sagging and for a minute wanted to buy the Shariko Hotel, which was for sale. But I think I prefer Sonoma County to almost anywhere else on earth.
Life is a blank canvas on which we paint our impressions, experiences, wisdom, compassion, and laughter.