The day began … early, at least earlier than normal since the coffee hadn’t brewed yet. I flicked the pot to on, and set about my morning routine. Soon the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted to my nose and the wonderful words, “Good morning”, tickled my ears as Mr. Retired delivered my caffeine fix. Two mugs later I was showered, dressed and alert. We packed the cooler with water, grabbed cameras that had been fed fresh batteries and headed out for an adventure.
The air was brisk, and reminiscent of a fall day, yet my eyes told me it was spring since the trees and flowers were blooming and the hills were green with life—not brown and awaiting the awakening kiss of the winter rains. The sky was filled with clouds—thin as well as thick—and they were displayed in several shades of grey. It definitely looked like rain.
Into the car we climbed, where I turned my seat heater on to “2”. Oh the joy of heated seats. :D The highway was busy, but not packed with cars and soon we were taking the first side road to catch Hwy. 29. Our eyes were assaulted as we neared American Canyon—a new city that is not slowly budding into being, but shouting out that it’s arrived. Everywhere our eyes could see were “ticky-tacky” houses and condos; and all of them painted in one of 4 subdued colors that remind me of bricks. It seemed to say, “Live here and never be an individual again.”
We left the horror of growth behind us and headed to Hwy. 37, where we skirted around the San Pablo Bay National Wildlife Refuge. The marshlands were alive with waterfowl of all kinds—teals, mallards, cranes, herons and egrets; while red-tailed hawks and other raptors circled in the sky—all in search of food. We spotted one pair of birds, bright pink in color, with long necks and I was positive I was looking at a pair of flamingos, but I’m not sure they travel to this area. Sadly, at 65 mph, with traffic riding on our bumper, we couldn’t stop to grab a picture.
When we reached Hwy. 101 we headed north toward Santa Rosa. By 10:45am, we found ourselves in heavier traffic, all the while driving in and out of rainstorms. One cloud followed us for several miles spilling out drops of rain that danced around on the windshield in an attempt to avoid the windshield wipers. Ah, but these wipers are smart. They simply moved faster as the rain came down harder, and swept the raindrops off to the side of the window where they trickled down to the hood of car in rivulets that squiggled around in the wind.
We drove out of the rain clouds and had jut begun picking up speed when traffic suddenly came to abrupt halt. One after another, drivers hit their brakes, creating a sea of red lights under the overcast skies. Directly behind us was an inattentive driver, who at the very last moment realized that he needed to break. Fortunately, he had the presence of mind to turn the wheels on his car to the right and he skidded to a stop just an inch from our rear bumper—leaving behind several inches of rubber from his tires. My ears heard the squealing of those brakes for several miles.
Coming into Healdsburg, we spotted a restaurant and decided to stop for lunch. We found Adel’s to be a nice place, with a good menu, decent prices, nice staff and good service. It was a good break, but we were ready to head on out to explore.
As we traveled up the road, we found ourselves enjoying the sights of wildflowers growing up the sides of the hills that butt up next to the highway. Thick patches of lupine dotted the green grass, mostly the purple, but often a mix of purple, red and yellow. We saw wild mustard waving in the gentle breeze; California poppies were bursting into vivid orange blooms most everywhere one looked, star thistle in white and yellow gave texture to the scene. While we couldn’t stop to take any pictures, others have provided some and I’ve linked to their pages so that you will have a visual image to enjoy.
Eventually we crossed the Russian River and came to Hopland, where we turned onto Highway 175. It is a 17 miles “S” drive—definitely not for those with queasy stomachs. We eventually reached Hwy. 29, where we turned north and caught Hwy. 20 and drove around the “eastern” shore of Clear Lake.
The gentle breezes were causing small white caps on the water and at one point we pulled over and listened to the sound of the water as it gently crashed into the shoreline. Out on the water there weren’t any boats—it was too cold and windy; but there were loads of waterfowl. This time we spotted pelicans amidst the ducks. What a treat.
Our travels took us down Hwy 20 to Hwy 5, and then to Hwy 505. As we traveled, the terrain changed from the rugged mountains, to low foothills where we saw several varieties of oak trees, and then to farmland. Soon the farmland turned into new housing developments, and then one town after another until we reached our growing city.
It was good to get out and explore, and let our eyes enjoy the beauty of spring in Northern California, but it was great to arrive home as well. Hopefully before we leave this area, we will have time to enjoy a few more trips; but if not, there is much to explore in Oregon.
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