The Great California Road Trip heads west this week, to the edge of the continent.
California’s isolated, sometimes isolationist human history has been shaped by the land itself. That even early European explorers imagined the territory as an island is a fitting irony, because in many ways— geographically, yes, but also in the evolution of plants and animals—California was, and still is, an island in both space and time. With small islands within the larger one, such as the North Coast. The redwood coast.
Most Americans think of California’s 1,264 miles of meandering coastline as the end of the line, land’s end. But even that depends on your point of view. As writer Richard Rodriguez has said of his home city, San Francisco: “To speak of [it] as land’s end is to read the map from one direction only—as Europeans would read or as the East Coast has always read it.”
To Mexicans determined to extend imperial Spain’s tenuous territory, California was north. To Russian fur hunters escaping Alaska, it was the sunny south. And to many generations of Asian immigrants, surely it represented the Far East.
To the people living along California’s coast before colonization, this was the center of the world. Or the edge of that world, and the beginning of some mysterious offshore world. The last remembered line of an ancient Ohlone dancing song, “dancing on the brink of the world,” somehow still says it all about this rocky coast, about life here.
California’s northern coastline has few sandy beaches, even fewer natural harbors. Land’s end is rugged and inhospitable, with surging surf and treacherous undertows. Because of this—and zero-visibility fog—shipwrecks are part of the region’s lore. Bits and pieces of hundreds of ships have washed up on these unsympathetic shores.
This is also where worlds collide. West of Eureka, some 4,000 feet below the ocean’s surface, is a sunken formation known as the Mendocino Ridge, itself a feature of the Mendocino Fault Zone. Here, the North American continent meets both the Pacific and Gorda tectonic plates to create the Mendocino Triple Junction—one of the world’s most active earthquake zones. The famous San Andreas Fault traces the coastline north from San Francisco before bending west at Cape Mendocino, ending at the junction.
So: There’s one thing to do while visiting the brink of the world—study the geology of land’s end, a “book,” let’s say, that opens literally at your feet. Many North Coast parks and beaches are excellent hands-on, boots-on outdoor classrooms.
Then find high ground and look to sea to watch for California gray whales on their yearly migration from Alaska to Baja. ’Tis the season, very soon, though on the return trip in spring you’ll see new mothers and their bouncing 10-ton babies passing closer to shore.
Then there are the North Coast’s spectacular groves of coast redwoods, trees often most appreciated as rot-resistant lumber for backyard decks. Explore too the beautiful North Coast cities and small towns built almost entirely of clear-heart redwood, many all dolled up in Victorian garb and geegaws.
Up the Road Encourages Responsible, Safe Travel
Here are previous Up the Road episodes that explore why we should travel, how to do it responsibly, and how to travel responsibly now, in the shadow of COVID-19. Not everyone should be traveling now, of course, depending on your potential vulnerability to the deadliest effects of this new virus. But everyone who does travel needs to do so responsibly, to prevent viral spread. Take a listen:
Up the Road: Why Travel?
Up the Road: Why Travel in Northern California
Up the Road: How to Travel
Up the Road: Why Local Travel Matters
Up the Road: Travel That’s Not About You
Up the Road: Heading Up the Road Again—Responsibly
Up the Road: 2020 Travel Strategy
Up the Road: More on Responsible Travel 2020
