Getaway to Fort Bragg

Housebound for three-plus months is tough for anyone. I decided to take a spur-of-the-moment trip north on Highway 101, through the former home of racehorse Seabiscuit (and infamous pot-growing region) of Willits across the great divide on Highway 20 to Fort Bragg. Fort Bragg considered changing the name of the town recently; upon examination, the town's namesake, Braxton Bragg, turned out to have been a wildly racist, embarrassingly incompetent Confederate General who never set foot in the area. They've since dropped the issue. 

It's been a good 15-plus years since I visited Glass Beach, which is now part of McKerricher State Park. Last time I was there, it was little more than a dump site that had been thoroughly ground down by wave action, leaving thousands of bits of multi-colored beach glass. Nothing remains the same.

But first: I lucked out on AirB&B to find a place rarely unoccupied - it couldn't have been a better choice. It was a separate, fully equipped small cabin, surrounded by a gorgeous garden, enclosed in a redwood forest. The space itself was squeaky clean and full of books, pillows and every imaginable comfort, including full kitchen and bath. Kay, the owner and hostess extraordinare, met me at the gate.

No wonder this place is hard to book - if you're interested, definitely jump on it during an opening. It may be foggy at the beach, but here, a mile inland, it's sunny and quiet.

The first thing I did after settling in was a trip to Glass Beach. It's not a dump site any more. There's a big parking lot and beautiful trails throughout the bluffs, plenty of informative signs - but alas, not a lot of glass. They should rename it "Glitter Beach" or "Sparkle Beach" or some such, because tiny bits of old clear glass (colored grayish white from the waves) are littered among the shells and stones.

The sandy beaches were nearly empty; the weather was typical for a Northern California beach: sunny but windy in the early evening, about 62 degrees F.

A number of wildflowers grow in the region, some of them rare. Many were in full bloom, and to see them popping out of the waving grasses in mounds was a thing of beauty.

The old trestle - a good place to watch the sunset.

Wait, is that a body in the water?

Nope. It's someone's old beach towel/chef's apron that got away.

A note on dinner, alas. As a travel writer, I'm used to eating alone, and I seldom run into any kind of "special" treatment. Fort Bragg is a fairly large, isolated town with few sources of income for anyone except the tourist trade, which is less than half of what it usually is. That's why I was surprised by the oddly rude behavior of my waiter at Silver's at the Wharf. The staff, including my waiter, were laughing and joking with other patrons in groups of two or more - especially those that ordered from the bar. When I didn't, and ordered an inexpensive menu item, my waiter practically sneered at me. The fish and chips came quickly (decent rock cod and exceptional hand-cut fries, by the way), and timing was adequate, if somewhat unfriendly. Maybe I reminded him of his first wife.

Swanning around Carmel with Mini-me

It was the all-girl get-away--just me and my daughter (who is taller than me, which I guess makes me the "mini"). We wanted to see the Monterey Aquarium again after many years. We stayed in a modest little hotel closer to Carmel than central Monterey: America's Best Value Presidents Inn Monterey on Munras (it has so many names it should have been more than a glorified motel, but it wasn't). I think the owners were new, as they were renovating the place--it was inexpensive, clean and quiet. My favorite thing about this hotel (even more than the well-kept hot tub nobody used): the waffle-maker in the lobby. Seriously. You'd fill this thing with batter from the dispenser, flip it over, and it would produce maximum-wonderful waffles in three minutes. Even my daughter, a confirmed waffle-hater, loved them. We figured out how to get there early enough to beat the waffle stampede.

The Aquarium was even more amazing than I remembered. The only sour note: I left my tickets at home, and had to buy new ones, not an inexpensive mistake. Ah, travel. The jellyfish exhibit is non-pareil, the otters adorable, and every "tenant" of the exhibits seemed lively and content--not always true for places where live animals are kept for the amusement and enlightenment of human visitors.

For dinner, we trusted Yelp--much as I love Yelp, I know what can happen. We chose a place in downtown Monterey called Sea Harvest on Foam Street; the owners must have a lot of relatives willing to give it four stars. For a place that sells fresh fish, the cooked version tasted suspiciously like dog food--but the "cuisine" wasn't the worst part. The bathroom was in a cinder-block building in the back; some dissatisfied customer ripped out the inside of the doorknob, so when it was time to leave, I discovered there was no way to open the door. I called for help thirty times, then proceeded to karate kick the door until I managed to bang my way open. My daughter thought I had instant food poisoning--a tip, take your cell phone with you if you have to make a journey to the loo.

Carmel Mission

Dametra Cafe

The next morning we awoke to faucet water the color of Coca Cola. A water main down the street broke. No showers for us! Fortunately, they gave out bottled water in the lobby, so we wandered down to Carmel for a long walk on the beach and a fantastic lunch at the Dametra Cafe on Ocean Ave. Delicious Mediterranean food in a charming place--well priced, well placed, and well worth 4.5 stars.

We also made a stop at the Carmel Mission, where Saint Junipero Serra is enshrined. The mission itself is historic and full of character, in spite of Catholic missionaries' misuse of the native population. On the last day, we hung out in the quiet town of Pacific Grove, and had a delightful snack at the 17th Street Grill.

Photo courtesy  of Adriayn Lee

See a better-quality version of this video on Vimeo:
http://vimeo.com/170577746

All in all, a great get-away, and a superb chance to bond over waffles with  my best gal.