Redwood Paradise

After a couple miles riding along fire roads with the morning sun breaking through the towering redwoods in patches along the pine needle path, the canopy closes in and the trail narrows. I stash my sunglasses in my fanny pack so I can see the rocks and roots that occasionally interrupt the packed dirt singletrack. When we first lock eyes, I assume I’m looking at a deer on the trail in front of me, but then she turns to the side and I see the muscular shoulders and arched back leading gracefully into the sleek upturned tail of a big beautiful cat. I tell Raf, “real talk, there’s a mountain lion up there.” Much more than fear, I feel a sense of grace, awe, and respect for this solitary spirit of the forest. With years of messing around on wilderness trails, usually quietly and on my own, I’ve often wondered when I would cross paths with a lion, and I’m grateful that I get to share the experience with Raf. I flip on my mountain bike bell, which is primarily intended to warn other cyclists when I am descending, and Raf shouts as we get back on our bikes and pedal past the giant cat, who is by now deep into the underbrush. Her sleek profile, tan gray coat, and lonely eyes remain etched in my memory. 

The past few months have been some of the best so far – my time has never been so richly textured, colored, and flavored: with mountain bike rides through shady redwood forests and fern creeks; road bike rides along country highways winding through sage scrub hills to the cypress coast; sourdough bread, pear and apple butter, and bone broth noodle soups. At the place where the coastal scrub landscape begins to transition to dense redwood forest, our little home is surrounded on all sides by mystical coast live oaks draped in pale green mosses visible through large, dark wood paneled windows. I am at the center of the Earth. Everything has fallen neatly into place. There is no place I’d rather be. 

Within the first few days of moving here, I installed a Starlink satellite on the third story roof and fed the 150 ft cable down the exterior walls to a small hole going into the crawl space next to our bedroom. I’m no fan of Elon Musk, but Starlink is damn good! More than sufficient for my 32 hours a week of groundwater modeling work. Starting next week, I’ll do 8 hours a week of odd jobs at the farm and garden in exchange for free rent; should be just enough to add a little variety to my week, get a little more involved with the Vida Verde community, and maybe speak a bit of Spanish. 

Raf got an electric mountain bike and has been tagging along with me on fire roads and smoother trails. The steep hills tend to drain the battery more quickly than flat terrain so her range is about 20 miles, as she found out the hard way one day when the battery died with a big hill and a few miles left. There are plenty of quiet paved roads to ride, including “Stage Rd” that is completely washed out in one spot / impassable for cars. The ride to San Gregorio State Beach is about seven miles down La Honda Rd / Highway 84, and leads past the San Gregorio General Store, where they sell bubble waters for $1.75 a piece (the cold bubbles are worth it). There are also plenty of unpaved trails, including a mix of fire roads and singletrack, at Pescadero Creek Park (where we saw the lion), Purisima Creek Redwoods Preserve, El Corte de Madera Creek Open Space Preserve, and Butano State Park. Half Moon Bay also has a really nice bike trail that follows the coast for 5-6 miles. 

Today, our foster kittens Bocelli and Micarelli (Celli and Relli for short) will be spayed and neutered, and then we will swap them out for a new set of foster kittens so Celli and Relli can find their long-term adopted parents. This will definitely be pretty sad, as I’ve grown attached to little Celli in particular, but vet bills and the loss of freedom associated with long-term cat care is not something I’m ready for. They are pretty rambunctious little creatures, spending about ⅔ of their time sprinting around the house and getting up to all sorts of mischief, and the other ⅓ sitting on our laps purring. If there is one phrase that sums up our experience with Celli and Relli, it would be “too crazy!” 

Fall has come on subtly, with only the big leaf maples and cottonwoods that live in creek bottoms marking the turning of the seasons. On my mountain bike cruise at Corte de Madera this past Thursday, there was a chill in the air that I haven’t felt for a long time. The tire pressure light in my Tacoma came on shortly thereafter. I have had many opportunities to pick large quantities of apples and pears from Vida Verde and surrounding ranches. These surplus fruits have kept the crockpot going for days on end: the pear butter is very sweet whereas the apple butter is intensely appley and slightly sour, both incredibly delicious. 

With whatever free time I have remaining, I indulge in a particular brand of escapism inspired by forgotten historical eras, set in my immediate natural surroundings. In a form of reverse time travel, I enjoy the vibes of the past through short stories and 1950’s country music, while taking advantage of the comforts and conveniences of modern life. With no TV, Raf and I have plenty of time for other pursuits, including practicing guitar (for me) and ukelele (for her). The modern world just ain't for me, with its short attention span, high quantities of low quality information, artificial intelligence, cryptocurrencies, green capitalism etc. but hey, thank goodness for Starlink internet.