It's a good thing I had free wi-fi at the hotel in Portland, because that was something we never saw again on our trip.
(We spent Friday night in a scary motel at the foot of Mt. Shasta in a room that didn't even have a mirror in the bathroom, let alone Internet access... and Saturday night at a four-star San Francisco hotel that charged $15 to plug into a broadband modem. Why is it that mid-quality chains like La Quinta and Best Western are giving you wi-fi for free while the luxury establishments that are already charging you an arm and a leg expect you to pay for it? And after paying $46.50 just for the privilege of parking the car south of Market, I knew Gareth wasn't going to be happy about forking over an additional $15 so I could post to my blog - especially since we would be home today. So here we are).
After Portland, we resumed the "Geologist's Tour of the Pacific Northwest" by detouring over to Crater Lake, site of one of the largest volcanic eruptions known in North America (42 times the size of the 1980 eruption of Mt. St. Helens). Over the last 7,000+ years, the crater has filled with water, leaving a spectacularly deep lake (1,943 feet - the deepest in the United States). Once again, Gareth was in heaven.
So were Megan and Maddy, who were delighted to be plodding through snow in July. (Most of the mountain's snow pack has melted, but there was still enough of the stuff in patches for all the kids to shoot some decent snowballs at one another.)
It was getting dark by the time we got off the mountain (oh, how I miss the late sunsets we enjoyed in Alaska!). Our original plan was to spend Friday night in Ashland, but we cancelled that after we planned the side trip to Crater Lake. My sister was certain we'd be able to find something just over the California border in Yreka, but was dismayed to learn that everything there was booked... as well as everything in the nearby town of Weed. She eventually found success in a little 
hamlet at the foot of Mt. Shasta - the site of which garnered ooh's and aah's from Gareth (who couldn't believe his luck at viewing two volcanoes in one day). Unfortunately, clouds covered the summit of this 14,000 foot behemoth (California's largest mountain), but it was still spectacular.
After our night in Motel Hell, my sister's family and ours parted ways. They were just five hours away from their home outside Sacramento. Our trip home would take a lot longer. Gareth and I decided we were sick and tired of I-5 and the 99, which are the quicker routes through the state's interior. They're also not much to look at, and after two weeks of spectacular sights, we didn't want to end our trip with the visual tedium of the San Joaquin Valley.
That left the coastal routes: Highway 1 and U.S. 101. My acrophobia makes the former route an impossibility, at least between Carmel and Pismo Beach. But no matter which one we chose, we needed to get positioned on the coast, which meant spending one more night on the road. The most likely town was San Francisco.
I've already posted a photo album of shots we took last summer, the last time we visited the City. But this is a town that offers infinite opportunities to have a good time. It's also a way different experience when you have your kids with you. Megan had only been to San Francisco one other time and was looking forward to her return.
So the first thing we did upon checking into the San Francisco Marriott (which had enormous mirrors in both the bedroom and bathroom, thank goodness!) was to take a cab to Fisherman's Wharf, where we enjoyed some lunch overlooking the pier and watched a baker at Boudin 
make some novelty sourdough loaves (I haven't craved bread so much since I started my low-carb diet! Next time we go, I'm definitely going to try some.)
One of the places Megan really wanted to see was Pier 39, which is a kind of tourist's catchall of shops, restaurants and San Francisco-themed attractions. The most popular of the latter is a former marina that now hosts hundreds of sea lions -- in the winter. 
Apparently, most of them migrate south for the summer. So imagine our disappointment when we could only find one of the creatures sunning himself on the wharf! 
(The weather that day more than made up for that disappointment - the bay was so clear we had a great view of Alcatraz.)
Gareth had a hard time tipping the parking valet when we left the hotel this morning (I had to remind him that the cost to park was a real estate matter more than employee wages). We drove for several hours before stopping for lunch in beautiful Morro Bay, which is known for its 
magnificent rock outcropping. It turns out that this famous rock is one of seven extinct volcanoes that rise in a line between the bay and San Luis Obispo (yes, more geology!)
We made it home at about 7:30 p.m. - to a house that was left even messier than I remembered and a cat who is in dire need of attention.
It's been a glorious trip - but there's no place like home.
Recent Comments