The foul mood left in my mind by Cabo San Lucas was soon washed away on the first day of another trip. Many, many reasons for this shift in mentality. Traveling north with my good old friend Roxane, to see another older friend Nathan visiting from Idaho, toward other friends and excellent places in Humboldt County. Yesterday we camped with Nathan and his family in Fort Bragg, one of the most beautiful damn places on the face of the Earth. The place is a combination of the steep coasts of Norway, the hills of Ireland, and the redwoods of the Pacific Northwest. In short, my favorite places wedged into one.
All the photographs are from areas around the campground. Nathan gave Roxane a piggyback ride and proceeded to ride a bike. In order to get a focused image of this clearly miraculous spectacle I had to sprint next to the bike and leap through the air while shooting. Useful maneuver really. Guess there used to be a dock or marina at the beach there, given all the ironworks and wooden posts protruding from the beach there. It's a very black beach, surrounded by sandstone cliffs. I implored Nathan to throw a chunk of said cliffs at a spot designated by me in order to better understand thrill of slinging dirt clods at hard surfaces. It only kind of worked.
I've never camped quite the way the Nathans family does. I don't recall that much vodka, beer or tequila with my parents at Crater Lake or Mount Lassen. Perhaps my surprise at the high concentration of such fluids at Fort Bragg is what explains the generally vomit themed course of my night.
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