Growing up on the North Coast of California (Humboldt Bay – not San Francisco Bay.  The real “North”), there were a couple of easy travel rules.  If the ocean was on your left, you were headed North.  If on your right, South.  Sounds easy enough.  To make it even easier (you would think…) the only major North-South highway, Highway 101, hugs the coast so that there is very little dry land between the road and the ocean.  Piece of cake, right?  Well….. not so much as it turns out.

One Sunday afternoon after church, my Pop and I decided to go to a place we had never been to before, despite all of our years on Humboldt Bay.  We were going to find Lake Earl.  Although it was located in Del Norte County, the County immediately North of Humboldt, it wasn’t far.  Or shouldn’t have been.  An hour and a half, tops.  Lake Earl, according to the map, should be easy to find – it’s a shallow lagoon/lake nestled between the highway and the ocean, with a little timber on the edges.  Again,  what could go wrong.  Such are the best laid plans and such was our navigational ability….

We headed North on Highway 101, stopping of course five minutes into the trip to put gas in the truck (forgot…) and to have biscuits and gravy at The Chalet (fancy name, good greasy food).  After washing down 3 cups  of coffee, a pound of biscuits, and what seemed like a half-gallon of gravy, we were off.  The journey begins.

We headed North.  And then North some more.  And then, sure we missed the turn-off, headed South.  And then South again.  Damn it.  Where was this magical place of mystery?  We pulled off to the side of the road at Big Lagoon (another fine lake, and one we could obviously find!) and studied the map.  It had to be here!  We got back in the truck and headed on the road again, North, South, North, South.   By this time, it was lunch.  So we stopped into a mom-and-pop diner in Orick, had a beer (or two),and we downed two of the biggest burgers we’d ever seen.  Pop noticed a man over in the corner smoking a Camel and having a shot of a nice-looking amber liquid (bourbon?), and realized he and the man had worked together for the County road department.  Another couple of bourbons for each of us quickly followed.

A few hours later, nearing dusk, and a few waters this time and another burger or two later, we headed back out on the road.  North this time.  We spotted a couple of Elk to our left, towards the ocean (we knew we were heading North now….)  and finally we spotted a sign for the turn off to Lake Earl.  Its about 11 miles south of the Oregon-California border.  By the time we finally got there, it was dark, and not much to see.  Turns out its not much of a lake in any event, or at least wasn’t at the time, but nice to see it just the same.

I’d like to tell you that seeing Lake Earl was the high-point of the trip, and is a wonderful place to visit.  But that isn’t the point of this story.  It’s the journey.  Journey’s with Pop were always an adventure.  He always said its the extra-ordinary things and unplanned misadventures in life that make the real memories.  He was right.  I don’t remember much about Lake Earl, but I remember the rest of that day like it was yesterday, and can still smell the coffee and fresh-baked biscuits, hear his laughter, conversation, jokes, and ribbing (mocking?) that I enjoyed so much that day.

Destinations are overrated.  Journeys are everything. Time to take another sip of coffee.