July 28th, Saturday. The weekend is not a good time not to have a plan of where to stay. Let me put this another way. A backup plan in case the first choice doesn’t work out. The planned boondock on Cook Creek is not to my liking. It’s too far out and too isolated.
As we head back to the coastline and Hwy 101 we stumble upon this group having a blast on the pedal cars cruising along the abandoned train tracks near Mohlar. Looks like fun!
I pull the van over to the side of the road and watch as a young man opens a box alongside the tracks and turns on the railroad signal. Traffic stops and he waves the human train forward.
We end up in Girabaldi, a tiny fishing village on the coast. Highway 101 goes right smack dab through it . . . It’s their annual “Girabaldi Days” celebration and the traffic is backed up as far as the eye can see. We finally worm our way into the line, and I head north inching our way along trying to locate a campground. There isn’t a single site to be had. I get turned around after pulling off the highway into a residential area, and we again inch our way along Hwy 101 heading south this time.
Coming upon a dirt pullout on the way back south I pull in, determined to wait out the traffic. I take a photo of the bay.
I debate staying here for the night, but this doesn’t feel right either. We stay here long enough for the traffic to thin out some, then head back toward Girabaldi spotting a wayside just at the entrance to the town. Fortunately there is a slot to slide into. We stay here for the night, and listen to their fireworks as they explode over the bay. They are VERY close and I peek out the window to see what’s what. They aren’t rocketing very high into the air. They appear to be barely getting off the ground. I don’t bother getting out of my cozy bed to get any photos. Goodnight.
The educational sign at our home for the night.