Transamerica

Wednesday, August 24, 2011: 500 miles, 500 miles, 500 miles, 500 miles...

We were up early (six) and packed and out by seven.  Some high cloud but very warm.  Drove SS to the Charles Schulz airport (aka Sonoma County Airport).  Was on my way by eight.  So it began.

The most complicated part of driving home, particularly alone (should have called this entry Home Alone), was getting to the Interstate.  It was indirect, east, north, northeast, and east again, on several different routes, including some non-intuitive turns west and even south.  The switchback route up to and through Robert Louis Stevenson State Park was tortuous to say the least and rivalled Hwy 1 on the coast in its required arcade game skillset.

Shot through windshield while driving.  Seriously!

A less stellar view of Mt. Shasta via windshield photography

Once on the I5 it was cruise control; CA allows 70 MPH in rural areas.  The temperature climbed, slowly, from mid 70s, to low 80s, to, finally, low 90s.  My first stop was in Redding, at a Starbucks, for some lunch items and a coffee, around 11.  Too hot for Mr T to do anything, so back in the car he went.  Second stop Castello, a tiny municipality buried in the Shasta Lake area, gorgeous northern California mountain territory.  Third stop was a large rest stop abutting a campground just past Medford, Oregon (where we hit the high today, 97), on the Rogue River.  Only about 95 at the rest stop, but stinking hot nonetheless.  After that I was getting tired, about eight hours driving.  With the intention to make it to Halsey, a small town halfway through Oregon, I turned off instead at Eugene.  Based on TripAdvisor, checked out Red Lion, but they wanted $129.  Too much!  They pleaded with me telling me it included breakfast--but breakfast is dirt cheap in the US.  Drove back onto the I5 and took another exit and checked out the Super 8 where they include a breakfast in the much lower rate.  And here I will say three nice things about the Super 8 (aside from the fact that it was much cheaper than Red Lion): First, the air conditioner is quieter (and more efficient) than our more expensive hotel rooms; there is free Tazo tea in the lobby; the WiFi is free and fast.  There, three things.  Go Super 8!

Vintage billboard at the Castello gas station

Rocky outcrops seen from Castello

Took Mr. T on a very long “mall” walk as, just a quarter mile off the freeway, there is not much more to do.  We checked out the myriad dining options (Carl’s Jr., Denny’s, Sizzler, Burrito Amigos, Burrito van Ditto, Applebee’s, Subway, KFC, Taco Bell, China Sun, Jimmy John’s, Taco Time) and stumbled across Cafe Yumm.  This is probably the best idea in fast food in a generation.  Score!  Got take out and went back to the room with the dog.  Panting from the heat he seemed extraordinarily happy to pass out in the cool of the AC.

Tomorrow home.

American Beauty, sunset from the Super 8

Transamerica: Actually, I wanted to call this entry Travelin Thru, but that was Dolly Parton’s (pretty wonderful) theme to the movie, and switching to title tracks as opposed to actual titles as a blog theme would disappoint all 31 "international" readers of this blog I’m sure.  But the Interstate system is, really, Transamerica, so no disappointment...

Some Like it Hot

Lake Benoist, Riverfront Regional Park, Russian River Valley, west

NE towards the Alexander Valley

Tuesday, August 23, 2011: A mild 70 or so on rising, crystal clear sky, quiet.  Checked in on the world (Libya, dollar OK, earthquake, the usual) then drove down to a Riverfront Park, a 300 acre regional park on two lakes near a town called Windsor, SW of Healdsburg.  The lakes were created from gravel mines; one, Lake Wilson, is a bird sanctuary, the other, Lake Benoist allows canoes/rowboaters and fishing.  A popular horse park.  Water was still and glasslike.  We had a wonderful walk around the perimeter, and Tonino had a dip and a bath of burrs (too bad we didn’t call him Raymond).  We took a woodsy trail over a bluff and were going to take a second spin around Benoist but it had turned ever hotter.  Back at the car the thermometer registered 85.

Gardens at Rochioli, Russian River Valley

We took the wine  backroads through the various valleys which dot the Russian River.  We stopped at Rochioli, where the tasting was free, including their sensational $52 a bottle Pinot, and then ended up in a sort of one horse town called Geyserville.  There was an  upmarket pizza place on the shady side of the street so we tied up the dog and took lunch in the window (shared a salad and a house pizza with meatballs and romano and, hot, topped with arugula). 

Geyserville.  That's pretty much it.

After lunch we took the scenic route to Ridge; temperature had gone over 90.  It seemed imperative to make the trek to what has been probably the most consistent and brilliant of California vineyards.  Their huge chateaux was wonderfully chill, we brought the dog in who got a little pep back, but it wasn’t AC; it was bale construction with overhangs and excellent insulation.  Just goes to show.

Ridge Vineyards, Lytton Springs.  The largest straw bale structure in the world.

Not much more to report in this heat (settling in around 94 late aft).  Made it back to the poolside, and the deck, and our books and magazines and a few neighbourhood walks, but this is definitely what I would call summer—too bad we had to wait until August 23 to get it!

Ciao HMC

On Tuesdays Healdsburg has a sure cure for the early week blues most tourist towns experience: A farmer’s market at 4 p.m. followed by free concerts in their centre square at six.  There were a lot of locals and out-of-towners who converged and left us a little bit pressed to find a restaurant, but we did, not our first choice, but what the heck.  At Spoon Bar, in the lobby of a hotel, the walls opened up completely, so we ate al fresco, with views to the back of BarnDiva across the way.  SS had a series of Moroccan salads to start, I had a Greek salad, then we both had hand-made pasta with fresh peas, asparagus, enoki mushrooms and fava beans.  For dessert SS had cinnamon chocolate cannoli and I had a delicate olive cake with blackberries and crème fraiche.  A memorable summer evening, perfectly warm but not oppressive, a light breeze came up around eight and the temperature dipped into the mid 70s.  Very nice. 

hot times in Healdsburg

Greek salad with heirloom tomatoes

Hand-made cavaletti w/ fresh market peas, enoki, fava beans & asparagus

All good things must come to an end.  SS flies back tomorrow AM and I make my way, on the Interstate with the dog, the 950 or so miles return.

Some Like it Hot

Some like it hot, some like it medium cool, some like it the big chill.  For those in the former: Why does Geraldine change her name to Daphne?  There is probably a film school answer to that but I am disinclined to Google it.

the sun sets in Sonoma

A Place in the Sun

Monday, August 22, 2011: Woke up to 59 degrees, cloudy, mist like rain in the air; Mendocino had followed us east!  SS went across the street for coffee to a bakery connected with the DuChamp, the hotel for swells also with Cyrus, the Michelin starred spot; coffee and baked goods are included in the room rate.  We got our act together, packed up the station wagon with all sorts of gloomy weather gear, and set out for Napa.

Above Napa valley, looking toward Calistoga

The very famous valley...

One thing I forgot about California is that it is a tad strict on the dogs.  The really interesting State Parks near here, Robert Louis Stevenson (he honeymooned there) and Bothe-Napa, both with great trails and swimming, are dog prohibited—even on lead!  So we had to be creative and instead went to a county park in Calistoga.  There is a very long trail called the Oat Mine Trail, 2400 feet or so up the Palisades, but we only hiked about 1300 feet up and back, just over two hours hiking.  No sooner had we started, in our mist-weather gear, then the clouds parted, the sun came out, and it was spectacularly hot, about 85 degrees.

Turkey vulture with its wing spread

giant pine cones of northern California

The hike took us through pine, oak, arbutus (which they call Pacific Madrone), laurel and eucalyptus trees with exceptional views south and west through the northern end of Napa valley, the town of Calistoga, and glimpses of the Napa River (if you can call the near still stream that runs down the valley a river...).  The warning at the trail head was to watch for mountain lions, rattle snakes and poison oak.  A little different than the bear warnings up Whistler way.

Jade Lake at Chateau Montelena

The chateau, also seen in film...

water feature, not related to the WC Fields quote

This trip isn’t focussed on the wine mecca we’ve ended up situated in, but it’s so in your face that sooner or later we had to bite.  When we drove by Chateau Montelena, there was no question but to go Sideways.  The grounds are well-manicured and the “chateau” quite regal,  but there are no organized tours.  Bearing witness was sufficient for me, the $20 tasting fee seemed a little steep and I'm not about to buy anything to drive back home with, but it turned out that on Mondays in August they are offering tastings of their 1990 chardonnay.  For those who have never seen Bottle Shock (spoiler alert), it’s the hugely amusing Alan Rickman film, based on a true story, about an over-mortgaged winery in Napa, a perfect chardonnay, a blind taste test in Paris, and Napa coming of age in the wine world. Needless to say it put Montelena on the map. They also let us “share” one tasting, so we enjoyed their current chardonnay, the 1990 (from a magnum), two cab sauvs, a sauv bl, a Riesling and a zin, from the same glass.

Oldest building in Calistoga, built in 1886; now a pizzeria

It was early afternoon, so we headed into the nearest town, Calistoga.  This seemed to me the perfect mix of town and tourist, with both quaint and appealing streets and bungalows, shops not too “done up” and even a dog friendly patio where we took lunch under an arbour. 

600 year old California oak

giant redwood, petrified, Petrified Forest

2,000 year old tree felled by volcano, 3.4 million years ago

On the way back we detoured to The Petrified Forest, a gimmicky place I guess but it was fun and they let us in with Mr T.  In short, it’s a portion of forest that, 3.4 million years ago, took a huge volcanic blast which felled old growth redwoods, pines and oak.  Many have been “resurrected” by geologists.  The highlight for me though was their cafe.  It is not on the path but I wandered off to check it out: Pristine oak booths, vintage lino floors, the open kitchen with diamond stainless steel, antiquated cash registers, a line of five and ten type barstools.  It was just magnificent, as if someone had closed the door in 1960 and not come back.  The proprietor told me her mother had opened it in 1952.  There is a small cabin attached off the kitchen and she ran it until 1968 when, due to Parkinsons, she had to be hospitalized.  I can’t believe it’s not in demand by Hollywood as a location shoot.  Anyway, there you have it, Americana writ large, and rotting away in dust.

second story door, not to code

We drove back on Hwy 128 to Healdsburg, took a walk around town, a swim, then went out to dinner.  Walked into a place called the Charcuterie. They had half orders of everything but I’m telling you, even with half starters and half mains, we could barely waddle out of there. Plus, no corkage on Mon-Thu.  God Bless America!

refreshing and delicious honeydew mint soup at the Charcuterie (chef refused to share recipe!)

man with parrot; he had adopted the bird at six months, it was now 10 year old

NB: SS informs me that it’s not Charlie Trotter with a place here but Charlie Palmer.  Whatever. Also, to the e-mail query as to why I'm not in more photos: It's my hair.  So long.  All I can do is either  slick it up a la Zbigniew Brzezinski or let the long furls fall forward, a la Jack Lord.  Neither complementary options.

A Place in the Sun: My favourite moment is Elizabeth Taylor coming into the living room on their first scene together and not noticing Montgomery Clift; he stares, she ignores. Can you ever imagine not being able to notice Monty C--even after the accident?   It really had to be ET in 1950, that shockingly beautiful ET of 1950, too beautiful to notice Monty C who was, arguably, the most striking actor of the time. I wonder if in fact it was an in-joke.   And poor Shelly Winters, like a hard done Irish Terrier, forced to wait in the car while his masters take dinner.  Such a life.

local theatre, Healdsburg

Sideways

Point Arena porch; say goodbye to Mendocino

Sunday, August 21, 2011: Today we left Mendocino and turned east towards the heart of Sonoma, a sort of sharp left turn.  We had three options to accomplish this: Backtrack north to connect with the 128 which runs SE down the scenic Navarro River valley into Sonoma; drive a narrow two-lane rural route called Mountain Valley Rd east to the 128; or go south on the Shoreline Hwy, Rte 1, as far as Jenner, then turn east along a few highways and byways progressively going NE.  Since I’m not inclined to ever drive the somewhat harrowing Rte 1 ever again, we chose the last option. 

Coastal view in Sonoma; mind the guard rails

Blooming  trees, Healdsburg

It was Mendocino fog and gloom as per every morning during our stay, a brisk 56 or so, as we headed south to Point Arena (named by Captain Vancouver on his coastal travels), Gualala, the Mendo/Sonoma border, Timber Cove, Fort Ross and Jenner, which sits at the mouth of the Russian River; an exceptionally “focussed” drive with very clear views to the Pacific many, many, many meters below, and speedsters on our tail.  From Jenner we had carefully mapped out our route on Hwy 116 through Duncans Mills, Monte Rio and Guerneville, then along the Russian River up to Healdsburg—but we made a wrong turn at Guerneville and ended up way south in Forestville, Graton, etc.  Along the way we connected to Hwy 12 and ended up in Santa Rosa.  The clouds parted, the sun came out in full force, and it finally felt like California in August.  After a short pit stop at the Whole Foods in Santa Rosa (which sells "two for $6" as opposed to YVR's "two for $5" lunch to go, and along one whole wall had booze and food including, I kid you not, a Tap Room) for lunch, onto Hwy 101 north to Healdsburg.

Healdsburg is a tiny touristy town, a foodie destination (Charlie Trotter has an outpost here and one restaurant, Cyrus, has two Michelin stars; folks sometimes pop up from SFO for a nosh), corporate/chain free (in the centre), and a wine epicentre.  But we just came based on the premise that after ten days on the Pacific we wanted to guarantee ourselves some sunshine.  Healdsburg has delivered big time.

We are staying at a little place ten minutes walk from the town square called the Modern Cottages.  They are situated in a gated compound of about an acre with pretty gardens, a pool, and each self contained cottage with its own deck.  We are in the smallest and least expensive, but at 400 square feet with a peaked roof and small porch it feels roomy and comfortable.  It’s called the Charles (each cottage is named after a renowned 20^th century designer) and includes a few authentic pieces including, in ours, two Eames plywood chairs along with an Eames coffee table (not alas their surfboard table, the be all and end all of coffee tables), a George Nelson bench—a piece I’ve always coveted, and a Bertoia chair.  Our deck faces west, perfect under the shade of two fruit trees in the afternoon sun, by a trickling "sculptural" fountain and just beyond the compound lies a steelhead stream with a shoreline path, ideal for the pooch.

Entrance to the Charles, Healdsburg Modern Cottages

Shadows of leaves shade Mr. T in the new den

We spent about two hours prowling around the antique and antiquey shops, galleries, and myriad wine tasting bars, but most of it was a tad twee.  $6 for the Sunday NYT, that was a score though.  I took a swim as a late afternoon wake-up, but the air temperature pool was like soup.

fountain in the garden

An early dinner tonight at BarnDiva, silly name I know, but an interesting reinvented barn space, the owners of which also run a gallery next door and the Cottages.  I think overpriced for what it was (even the SF couple next to us said so much) but lovely.  I started with an arugula salad with strawberries which had been compressed with lemon verbena, SS two delectable scallops caramelized with a basil oil puree and  a  corn/fruit salsa.  For mains SS had a homemade fromage blanc pasta, I had a halibut with fava beans on a tomato puree with roasted garlic and dotted with baby blooms from the bachelor buttons in the garden.  I passed on dessert but SS had a warm peach crumble with vanilla ice cream.  Pooch had dehydrated raw, baby carrots and rice cake.  Yum!

seared scallops etc.

halibut (note tiny radish on top; I felt like I'd committed infanticide)

dessert--wait a second, I want to get a picture of that!

Sideways: Many wonderful scenes, TH Church plays the wine naïf perfectly ("tastes good to me" as well as the long tasting sequence followed by PG asking "Are you chewing gum?"), Paul Giamatti is superbly over-important (She: What’s your novel called? He: The Day after Yesterday She: So, Today? He: grimace...)  But ultimately, like so many Hollywood movies, people actually offering benefits to society (PG as a teacher, Morgan Freeman in TBList as a mechanic, on  an endless list) are seen as lives unfulfilled.  Why is it that someone in a Hollywood movie can’t be good at something that serves a benefit to others and still be satisfied doing it?  Heck, the NYT today ran a cover story on a maitre'd--it's possible!  Mark Zuckerberg’s comment, post-Social Network, that the writer/director/producers couldn’t wrap their head around the “idea that someone might build something because they like building things” as opposed to celebrity, status or money is well put and really at the nub of what I call the Hollywood hoodwink.  Mike Rowe, host of Discovery’s Dirty Jobs, has a great piece on this theme at TED talks; link here for ten minutes well worth your time.  

Charles and Ray Eames did many creative and socially relevant projects in their lives--although neon lips on the mantelpiece wasn't among them...