Here is a picture showing how harrowingly cold it can get when the wind whips down from the Fraser Valley.
So the trip from Bellingham entailed three hundred miles of treacherous icy roads. No ice storm is complete without an SUV on its roof or a jackknifed tractor trailer, so these two events seemed to end this lengthy ordeal.
But in Salem, Oregon, the roads abruptly cleared and the rest of the trip to Arcata was quite pleasant. Leaving the interstate after hours and hours, and on to the Redwood Highway – US 199 – that merged on the coast with US101, from Crescent City down into Arcata. I look forward to traveling this during the day. I traveled this route once before in 2006, and considering that was with my ex-wife, it’s always nice to replace memories associated with lost love with fresher ones.
But Arcata is a bastion of liberalism that is tucked away into the sleepy northern California Coast. Of course, there is the enclave of retirees that move in. From what I understand, Arcata, is not too much different than Bellingham, where people move from somewhere sunny and warm and decide after three years or so that they just can’t get used to the chilly damp weather. At least the winds were a bit warmer coming off the ocean.
But this morning I am in partly cloudy San Francisco answering e-mails near the panhandle off Haight Street. I thought that I would drive down from Arcata for some meetings since it’s only a few hours away. Upon returning to Humboldt County, I hope to relax for a few days and do nothing. From what I’ve seen, it has the same vibe as Bellingham.