Misty Mountain Hopping

Walkin’ in the park just the other day, baby, 
What do you, what do you think I saw? 
Crowds of people sittin’ on the grass with flowers in their hair said, 
“Hey, Boy, do you wanna score?” 
And you know how it is.
I really don’t know what time it was, woh, oh,oh 
so I asked them if I could stay a while.

The sad part is that I don’t really know if the song is referencing sex, drugs, or both. I suppose neither is also an option. I didn’t do much hopping myself, just driving from spot to spot within Banff and taking more stupid photos. It occurred to me in Banff that I was wasting what was left of my youth. Had to be done somewhere I guess.

Mist, mountains.

Mist, mountains, Bow Lake.

Peyto Lake with reflection and clouds.

True story about Peyto Lake: I got up and moving by about 6:30 that morning (ergo the earlier mists) and then reached Peyto Lake at about 8. I was the first one in the parking lot, although they make passenger cars park in a lot that’s about a ten-minute uphill walk from the observation platform. About the time I reached the platform, a Chinese(-Canadian) tour bus pulls up — and the busses are allowed to park in a lot that’s about a ten-second walk from the platform.

I waited for them to leave.

Waterfowl Lake, more mist.

Same lake, same mist.

The captions become difficult to differentiate.

Ibid.

So I’m packing my bags for the Misty Mountains 
where the spirits go now, 
over the hills where the spirits fly. 
I really don’t know.

And then I woke up.

bkd

Way Northern California Coast

It’s been a couple weeks, but I don’t know that the photo album idea is really going to take off and even if it did, it’s not really a great forum for expressing the deepest, inner-most feelings of my heart regarding, you know, topographical features, coast lines and tall trees and such.

Been a couple weeks.

Decided that when going up to see my parents for the holidays that I wanted to drive. I missed driving during the three weeks I was in SoCal after the trip officially ended. I miss driving now that I’ve been up in Seattle a couple weeks. Not sure how this driving-lust ends. Perhaps with a CDL. Mal sehen was wird. Wonder if I can work on my CDL the same time I do my PhD.

Headed up from SD, stopped in OC to pick some stuff up out of storage, went up to NB (CM?) for lunch with the DLF, then kept going. LA traffic sucked. Stayed the night in Stockton, then headed up the 5 through Sac-town, then turned left at Willits and headed west on Highway 20.

…Which cuts through the coastal hills down to the coast.

Camp 20, a CCC camp (I think).

The area is like a well-written eulogy: beautiful but somber.

Similes are cheap.

Here are some photos of the coast. (Which are also cheap.)

Russian Gulch State Park (between Fort Bragg and Mendocino).

On a nice day, there's probably a good photo in here.

Highway 1 (north of Fort Bragg somewhere).

Westport Union Landing State Beach: view from my campsite (looking south).

Morning has broken.

Trees in the mist -- where Highway 1 winds back up into the hills to re-join the 101.

Y’know, most places I’d resent the mist, but for this drive I think it adds to the experience. Or maybe I’m just trying to convince myself of that so I don’t have to go back there. Not that I wouldn’t want to. Although it’s a harder part of the country to get to than most.

I’ll do a separate post on the Redwoods, I guess.

Excelsior,

bkd