Day 14: The Train Graveyard, the Trees of Mystery, and other tales
From an odd mining town in Northern California:
Nice to see that even the small towns have a place to get their glass pipes and cigarette rolls.
From Eureka, CA - home of a wonderful train graveyard and one of the most pleasant towns you'll ever visit.
An abandoned house near the entrance to the Redwood National Park:
"The Big Tree" as it is for some reason called:
A rather large Paul Bunyan, and an almost equally big Babe the Blue Ox, hanging out in the parking lot for a just-outside-of-the-redwoods tourist trap called "The Trees Of Mystery":
Babe the Blue Ox's healthy nut-sack.
One of the "Trees of Mystery." It's wonderful how mildly odd quirks in plant growth suddenly become must-see-attractions once someone starts charging money to see. Fifteen dollars for things you could probably see within two miles from your home if you only go exploring once in a while
A powerful air chariot, this ride alone made the admission into the "Trees Of Mystery" worthwhile. Of course, keep in mind that I *did* get a fence-hoppers discount.
An admittedly very cool, very odd, tree growth. Which I won't wager was at all natural, but still fun to look at.
There were also wood carvings. This was my favorite, for what I hope are obvious reasons:
Next! For the first time in my life I enter the odd and beautiful state of Oregon. The first thing I notice about this place is that I hardly seem to have crossed any border at all, until I pass by a populated area and watch the speed limit inexplicably drop to 25 mph. I suppose in Oregon it's "cool" to have ridiculously low speed limits, or at least "safe" to do so. I'll stick with my 40-60 mph except in school zones, thanks. The second notable difference is even stranger... despite being equipped with self-serve pumps, you are not allowed to fill your own tank in Oregon. The man from the store comes out and does it for you. It's obviously another rule designed for safety's sake (although let's be honest, gas station explosions are surprisingly rare, all things considered), but it really backfires, especially during rush hours when there are 20 cars in the station yet only two employees. Also the road signs are often times at least twice the size of California's, possibly to make up for poor vision of Oregonians but more likely just to show off. But Oregon has many things going for it besides comical auto laws, from bridges:
...to beaches:
...to awesome gift stores:
I couldn't have been more than 20 miles into the state when I saw a sight which I had thought limited to Arizona and certain small islands... one of those highly contreversial yet extremely popular cloned dinosaurs that had been all over the media about ten years ago. Unfortunately, this one appeared to be loose... not to mention somewhat unhappy...
He chased me for about two miles. Fortunately I was rescued by a mysteriously named stretch of adopt-a-highway.
I drove into Coos Bay, a truly interesting logging town in southern Oregon, and home to what is no doubt the most beautiful beach I have ever seen. Judge for yourself:
Coos Bay is also home to Bi-Mart. It was unfortunately closed by the time I got there, but I imagine that its contents are either a) akin to San Diego's now-defunct "Gay-Mart," yet with a selection of unhomoerotic merchandise as well, or b) just a grocery store. Given that it is a town of lumberjacks, who as we all know are crossdressers, the former seems like the more logical choice.
Sleeping in my car had turned out to be a refreshing challenge, so I decided to try it again tonight. I also decided (foolishly) to go swimming first. I snuck into a hotel hot tub, anxious to unwind. Of course, they just *had* to turn the hot tub off about an hour before I snuck in. And Oregon just *had* to be way way colder than any place in SoCal. And of course I just *had* to get a hotel room rather than try to simultaneosly warm up and dry off in the rather limiting confines of my car.
Nice to see that even the small towns have a place to get their glass pipes and cigarette rolls.
From Eureka, CA - home of a wonderful train graveyard and one of the most pleasant towns you'll ever visit.
An abandoned house near the entrance to the Redwood National Park:
"The Big Tree" as it is for some reason called:
A rather large Paul Bunyan, and an almost equally big Babe the Blue Ox, hanging out in the parking lot for a just-outside-of-the-redwoods tourist trap called "The Trees Of Mystery":
Babe the Blue Ox's healthy nut-sack.
One of the "Trees of Mystery." It's wonderful how mildly odd quirks in plant growth suddenly become must-see-attractions once someone starts charging money to see. Fifteen dollars for things you could probably see within two miles from your home if you only go exploring once in a while
A powerful air chariot, this ride alone made the admission into the "Trees Of Mystery" worthwhile. Of course, keep in mind that I *did* get a fence-hoppers discount.
An admittedly very cool, very odd, tree growth. Which I won't wager was at all natural, but still fun to look at.
There were also wood carvings. This was my favorite, for what I hope are obvious reasons:
Next! For the first time in my life I enter the odd and beautiful state of Oregon. The first thing I notice about this place is that I hardly seem to have crossed any border at all, until I pass by a populated area and watch the speed limit inexplicably drop to 25 mph. I suppose in Oregon it's "cool" to have ridiculously low speed limits, or at least "safe" to do so. I'll stick with my 40-60 mph except in school zones, thanks. The second notable difference is even stranger... despite being equipped with self-serve pumps, you are not allowed to fill your own tank in Oregon. The man from the store comes out and does it for you. It's obviously another rule designed for safety's sake (although let's be honest, gas station explosions are surprisingly rare, all things considered), but it really backfires, especially during rush hours when there are 20 cars in the station yet only two employees. Also the road signs are often times at least twice the size of California's, possibly to make up for poor vision of Oregonians but more likely just to show off. But Oregon has many things going for it besides comical auto laws, from bridges:
...to beaches:
...to awesome gift stores:
I couldn't have been more than 20 miles into the state when I saw a sight which I had thought limited to Arizona and certain small islands... one of those highly contreversial yet extremely popular cloned dinosaurs that had been all over the media about ten years ago. Unfortunately, this one appeared to be loose... not to mention somewhat unhappy...
He chased me for about two miles. Fortunately I was rescued by a mysteriously named stretch of adopt-a-highway.
I drove into Coos Bay, a truly interesting logging town in southern Oregon, and home to what is no doubt the most beautiful beach I have ever seen. Judge for yourself:
Coos Bay is also home to Bi-Mart. It was unfortunately closed by the time I got there, but I imagine that its contents are either a) akin to San Diego's now-defunct "Gay-Mart," yet with a selection of unhomoerotic merchandise as well, or b) just a grocery store. Given that it is a town of lumberjacks, who as we all know are crossdressers, the former seems like the more logical choice.
Sleeping in my car had turned out to be a refreshing challenge, so I decided to try it again tonight. I also decided (foolishly) to go swimming first. I snuck into a hotel hot tub, anxious to unwind. Of course, they just *had* to turn the hot tub off about an hour before I snuck in. And Oregon just *had* to be way way colder than any place in SoCal. And of course I just *had* to get a hotel room rather than try to simultaneosly warm up and dry off in the rather limiting confines of my car.
posted by BG | 2:54 PM
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