Oh say can you see....

Those that have been by our old house know that I've flown a flag just about every day since 9/11, and not having one on the RV has bothered me a lot actually. I finally got a lit flag on the RV last night, and I'm really happy with how it came out.

The LED light that I picked up from Home Depot really is bright enough to light it well, and I'm very pleased with that. Most people don't realize that those landscape light systems are 12V, so they can work in an RV environment right off the batteries, without any kind of transformer.

I'm not sure about how high a wind-speed it can take yet, but we'll figure that out as we go along. It's still only rigged up temporarily, but I'll fix that this weekend.

Loleta Cheese Factory

Jill's Journal: After our brief insider’s look at making soft French cheese a few weeks ago in Petaluma, 5-year-old Madelyn has declared she wants to be a cheese-maker when she grows up (or perhaps a chocolate-maker, as she says she’s not quite ready to commit). So, today we visited the Loleta Cheese Factory in the tiny little hamlet of Loleta (population 750). Loleta, by the way, has got to be the quietest town in all of California – it was cute, quaint, and eerily silent.

Unlike the soft cheese factory we’d visited, Loleta specializes in block cheeses. They make 38 different varieties and all are available for sampling at the factory. In fact, they encourage visitors to try every single one. I don’t think we came close to trying them all, but the ones we did try were heavenly goodness.

Unfortunately, the good folks at Loleta were just wrapping up their cheese making for the day when we arrived, so we weren’t able to see as much as we would have liked. Regardless, what’s not to like about a place that feeds guests amazing, all-you-can-eat cheeses for free? Loleta is a family operation which started in 1982 when the owner was teaching agriculture class at the local high school. He led his students through the cheese-making process and enjoyed it so much that he and his wife went into business for themselves. These days, the tiny factory turns 5,700 gallons of milk a day into just under three million pounds of cheese annually. Around 80% of their cheese is sold under other labels, but they retain about 20% to sell in their own name.

Interesting fact of the day: if you’ve ever noticed American cheeses are a different color than European cheeses, there’s a good reason for this. During the Revolutionary War, Americans began coloring American-produced cheese with something called bixin, a bright yellow to orange/red dye (that only comes from the seeds of a small, ornamental Latin American evergreen tree called the annato tree). This was, of course, part of a patriotic way to be distinguished from Great Britain. It became so common and Americans grew so used to it that we still expect our cheese to have that coloring over 200 years later.

Here’s the booty that somehow followed us home. These were our favorites – that garlic jalapeno is especially mouthwatering. Yum, yum, yum. Until undertaking this RV journey, I had no idea we enjoyed food so much. But man, oh man, there’s a lot of good stuff all over this fantastic country of ours.

Eureka! We've Found It.

Jill's Journal: Although we may not have exclaimed, “Eureka! I’ve found it!” with quite the same enthusiasm as the ancient Greek scholar Archimedes upon his volume/density discovery (or as the California forty-niners when they discovered gold), we were quite pleased to make it safely to Eureka late yesterday afternoon after our great tire incident.

We are quickly nearing the top of this tremendous state. Although California isn’t the largest state in the union (Alaska and Texas have it beat), I daresay it’s the most diverse. We’ve rediscovered what every Californian knows – one can go from the mountains to the desert to the ocean, from the great cities to the beautiful countryside, from some of the most gorgeous scenery around to some of the most urban development anywhere. We’ll have been here for six months by the time we leave and we still haven’t covered the eastern or the southern parts of the state. It’s overwhelming how much there is to see in California. We’ll be back at a later date to see the rest.

But for now, Eureka is our second-to-last stopover in the Golden State. We’ve reacclimatized to life in California…to the hordes of people everywhere (it may not be the biggest state, but it is the most populous), to the West Coast way of life, to the exorbitantly high prices for everything. I'm not sure if we’re West Coasters or East Coasters anymore. There’s great things about both coasts and at many points in between. One thing we have fallen in love with in California that we didn’t know about when we lived here is the abundance of tacquerias…little hole-in-the-wall restaurants or food trucks with truly amazing Mexican food at surprisingly inexpensive prices. Oh my. Rob and I had a meal last night that was among the best Mexican food we’ve ever had. Every tacqueria we’ve visited has been better than the last. Oh yes, we will definitely miss the tacquerias.

All This for Little Old Us?

Jill's Journal: Why, yes, unfortunately, all this was for little old us. It turns out life on the road is never, ever dull. We started the day in Willits, packing up to leave in the middle of a winter weather advisory (I could have sworn it was May), a rain storm, a hail storm, and a high temperature of 44 degrees (isn’t it mid-May?).

Normally we probably would have delayed leaving for a day with weather like that, but the rain isn’t supposed to stop for at least four days and we already had reservations at our next place. So, we continued on, taking it slow and easy on the Redwood Highway. This, by the way, is an absolutely gorgeous stretch of road, if not somewhat hairy to drive a trailer through. Spectacular redwoods are everywhere and snaking alongside the road in one ravine after another is a beautiful river. There’s also a disproportionate number of hitchhikers and other hard-core walkers/hikers with sleeping bags on their backs, even in the rain.

We had just left one of the most narrow sections of the road, where it’s only one lane weaving through the trees in each direction, and were transitioning to a wide section when the fifth wheel blew a tire. Perhaps “obliterated a tire” is a better way to word it. A blow out is a dangerous situation in any vehicle and, we learned, exponentially more intense with a 42-foot trailer.

Thankfully, Rob was able to maneuver over to the side of the road and it took less than two seconds to realize there was no repairing this without help. Before long, a California Highway Patrolman joined us. And then came another. So, there we were on the side of the road – Rob and me, three kids, and two cops in the rain, all waiting for roadside assistance. In hindsight, it sounds kind of comical but it was anything but funny at the time.

After about 2 1/2 hours and one of the officers commandeering my phone more than once to “discuss” with the roadside people that he was closing down lanes of a major highway and they needed to get a move on it, our knight in shining armor, or at least in a yellow truck and with a really fancy jack, arrived. He told Rob that if we’d gone another 150 feet before pulling over that it would have destroyed our brake system, the mechanism on our main slide out, and who knows what else…but it would have undoubtedly been thousands of dollars in damage and perhaps weeks without our home. Obviously, we’re very thankful to “just” have to buy new tires this week.

A Drive-Thru Tree and a One-Log House

Jill's Journal: Today was our day for kitschy, touristy redwood attractions! The Chandelier Tree in Leggett is 315 feet tall, 21 feet in diameter, and estimated to be over 2,000 years old…but it’s best known for being the “Drive-Thru Tree.” The opening was carved in the 1930s. That’s Rob in the van behind the girls. It’s a tight fit, but fun to do. It’s not everyday you drive through a tree, literally.

And then it was on to the “Famous One-Log House” near Garberville.

In 1946, a 2,100-year-old redwood was hollowed out, furnished, and turned into a home with a 7’ ceiling. Wheels were attached and the 32-foot trailer of sorts toured the country before permanently settling here in 1999.

The highlight of the little jaunt probably wasn’t the touristy attractions, but the scenery to and from those spots.

Gorgeous bridges abound.

The girls made a little friend at the neighboring campsite and she roasted marshmallows with us before bedtime. Hopefully we’ll run into even more kids after the school year. Luckily our girls have each other. When they’re all grown up, they’ll realize what a treasure it is to have siblings.

Fort Bragg and Glass Beach

Jill's Journal: Fort Bragg, a military town before the Civil War and a logging town after it, is the site of several curious attractions today.

I can’t think of too many other places we’d take our daughters into a tattoo parlor. Rob really hesitated at this, but “Triangle Tattoo and Museum” was once called one of the 25 most interesting museums in the U.S. and I figured we had nothing to lose. Plus, they’d told me children were welcome, so it couldn’t be too bad. Right?

Sure enough, it was tiny but interesting with all kinds of memorabilia and information about the history of tattoos, particularly in Polynesia. When the girls learned one Polynesian culture believed the craft was taught to them by a mermaid, they were smitten. However, when they started talking about what kind of tattoos they wanted themselves, we decided it was time to go. :)

I loved the Pudding Creek Trestle with the ocean behind it. There’s just something about train trestles that is so picturesque.

Glass Beach was our main destination and it has to be one of the most unique beaches in the world. It’s hard for us to imagine today, but Fort Bragg residents from 1906 to 1967 threw their trash over these cliffs onto the beach and into the ocean. Apparently this has been done throughout history all over the world in ocean communities. This area was called “The Dump” and was the site of discarded cars, appliances, bottles, etc. Sometimes fires were lit to expedite disposal.

The rock formations and wave patterns around Fort Bragg were created in such a way that matter doesn’t leave the area, but gets tossed about in a sort of natural tumbler. The glass from all this trash has been broken down over the decades and is now in small, smooth pieces that mix with the rocks all over the beach.

Of course the glass is also colored (i.e. the orange stones came from the turn signals of old cars, the purple from apothecary jars, etc.), which only adds to the visual interest of the beach.

We also stopped in at the Sea Glass Museum, which sounds fancier than it is: an itty-bitty little room where a retired sea captain displays his finds.

The lovely Mendocino was also on our agenda today, but a certain 3-year-old was out of sorts and it just didn’t happen. And that’s fine – Rob and I had been once before, long ago, and remember it as a really neat town but probably not of much interest to kids. The entire town is on the National Register of Historic Places and was used as the fictional Maine town in the popular t.v. show from the 80s and 90s, “Murder, She Wrote.”

Seabiscuit’s Home

Jill's Journal: There’s an old saying very popular in racing, “It’s better to be lucky than good.” Yesterday we enjoyed such an unexpected opportunity that I’m still thanking my lucky stars.

A few of racing’s greatest names have transcended the sport. Zenyatta. Secretariat. Man o’ War. Citation. Seattle Slew. John Henry. And, of course, Seabiscuit, the hardscrabble little horse with the giant heart who defied

all odds and helped lift the morale of our nation during the Great Depression. America loves an underdog who makes good and Seabiscuit was a household name in the 1930s. His wonderful, inspiring story (and comeback) was retold with a bestselling book in 2001 and a major motion picture (nominated for seven Oscars!) staring Tobey Maguire in 2003. Like so many in Lexington, I was an extra for one of crowd scenes.

Seabiscuit’s owner, Charles Howard, had the 15,000-acre Ridgewood Ranch here in Willits, California. Instead of sending the Biscuit to Kentucky after retirement, Howard brought him home to Willits for his stud career. (He also turned the Thoroughbred into a cow pony, but that’s another story).

Seabiscuit died young, at only 14-years-old, in 1947 and Howard would die three years later. While Seabiscuit was buried in an unmarked grave on the ranch, rumor had it that Seabiscuit’s stud barn (which he shared with other big names Kayak II, Ajax, and Noor) is still intact. Our mission this week was to find it. We prepared the girls by letting them watch “Seabiscuit,” the first “grown-up” movie they’ve seen. They loved it.

We started yesterday at the Mendocino County Museum, which has a nice little display of some Seabiscuit memorabilia, including a stall door from a Ridgewood Ranch mare barn and the original sign over the entry to the ranch. However, the ladies at the museum could tell us very little about Ridgewood Ranch, only that sometimes bi-weekly tours are offered during the summer.

So, knowing the general area the ranch was in, we went on a little scavenger hunt. I mean, really, how hard can it be to find one barn on 15,000 acres? Much to our surprise (and very reminiscent of my search for Secretariat’s birthplace in Virginia last July), it was much easier than we thought! And not only did we stumble across the barn, we also just happened to run into the very kind man who just happened to have the key. When he heard we were from Kentucky and were interested in Seabiscuit, he graciously unlocked the padlock and gave us a private tour.

Seabiscuit's massive stall...I think he had more square footage than we do!

The gentleman opened the stall door so the girls could get a good look.

The Howard's sprawling ranch home, built in 1905.

And, if that weren’t enough, he then brought us into another building full of Seabiscuit photos and other memorabilia. And if that weren’t enough, he then brought us to the Howard’s home and gave us a little tour of that too. And if that weren’t enough, he gave the girls each their own hardcover children’s books about Seabiscuit’s famous match race against the Triple Crown champ and East Coast monster War Admiral, which was listened to by over 40 million Americans on the radio in 1938. It turns out this kind man --who took time out from the middle of barbequing hot dogs for 30 friends to show us around -- is the president of the Seabiscuit Heritage Foundation.

Erika closing Seabiscuit's barn door.

It was awesome, it was serendipitous, and it was wonderful. I know I’ve said it before, but we are so lucky, or maybe blessed is the better word. And the girls have a new racing hero from over 70 years ago who was brought to life for them yesterday. We are loving this journey.

Hmmmm...

Jill's Journal: Although our initial impression of Willits was that it’s a somewhat cute town, I daresay we may have modified our impressions a bit after a few days. Hmmmm… It’s definitely an “interesting” town.

Pool Time

Jill's Journal: Maybe it’s because we’re heading north or maybe it’s because we’re still close to the coast (or maybe it’s a combination of both), but we have yet to see really warm temperatures this year. With the exception of two fabulously sun-drenched afternoons in Novato last week, we’ve more or less been in cold (or cool, as it is now) weather since Labor Day – that’s over eight months! Too long.

Although the daytime temperatures here in Willits are nice – high 60s and low 70s – there’s a constant cold breeze that makes it feel much cooler. Today was our high for the week and since the girls have been aching to jump in the pool for the first time this spring, we indulged them in spite of the cool air. Oh, the fun they had. This campground is among the most family-friendly we’ve been to with a petting zoo, several fantastic playgrounds, and a heated kid pool. The girls are in heaven.

Great Grandpa is so Groovy!

Jill's Journal: It’s no secret I’m a little partial to my Grandpa, shown here with the girls in one of my all-time most cherished photos. Our visit to Iowa in November to see him and our other family there was one of our favorite stops of the whole trip so far.

Today, on the phone, he told me he has started reading our blog as it’s a great way to keep up with us and the “great-grands.” Rob and I think this is phenomenal – he’s seen the rise of everything from indoor plumbing to telephones to electricity to air travel in his lifetime and now he’s even reading a blog. At age 87! He’s always been a hero to me in so many ways and I hope I can be half as “cool” as he is when I’m 87. Heck, I hope to even make it to 87. You are AWESOME, Grandpa!!

Welcome to…Willits?

Jill's Journal: Unless you’re a horse racing fan or from Northern California, chances are you’ve never heard of Willits, final resting place of Seabiscuit. And don’t feel bad, because I am a racing fan and Rob is from Northern Cal, and neither of us could remember ever hearing of Willits either. But here we are, just over 100 miles north of our spot for the last two weeks in Novato.

When we are making plans for a new place, we pull out a map and pick the most logical spot in the general direction we’re headed. From Pacifica to Novato was a mere 35 or so miles because we knew there were a ton of things for us to do in the area. But, when we don’t have major cities or a specific destination in mind, we like to travel about 100 miles maximum on a “moving day.” That’s what we did in New England last summer and fall and it was perfect. It’s working just fine here on the West Coast too.

Of course, when we’re throwing the figurative dart at the dartboard, whatever town that dart lands on also has to have a decent campground and internet/cell connectivity (yes, there’s an app for that!). Willits fit all the criteria. So, here we are, having passed through some really nice country with lots of rolling green foothills to get here. The Willits campground we chose is fantastic, the town of about 5,000 looks really cute at first glance, and I think we’re going to have a great week.

Happy Derby Day

Jill's Journal: On this, my very favorite day of the entire year, my heart especially swells with pride for our adopted home state. There is nothing like Derby Day. My heart is in Kentucky today.

When I told the girls Derby Day is my favorite day of the year, they were mortified – how could I like Derby Day more than Christmas? Oh, but I do. The Kentucky Derby is like Christmas and every other joyous occasion all wrapped up together in one thrilling, heart-pounding, exquisite package. The anticipation; the electricity in the air; the most exciting two minutes in sports. The sun truly shines bright on my old Kentucky home…

So today, as we enjoyed the Kentucky Derby on television from 2,300 miles away, I reminisced about all the wonderful Derbies we were privileged to attend under those beloved, historic twin spires. And how surreal it is to see folks we’ve personally worked with win. Congratulations, Barry –another Californian turned Kentuckian— and Kathleen.