Coastline Pilot/LA TIMES

16 September 2005

 

Chasing the Muse

Catharine Cooper

 

“Children can easily open the drawer that lets spirit rise up and wear its favorite costume of mirth and laughter.”  - Hafiz

 

Elvis has left the room.  Or rather, Catharine and Emma-Cherril have left town on a wild and raucous, quiet and contemplative, playful and exploratory road trip. We had endured a couple of challenging years, and once the idea was hatched, the only impediment was the completion of the Sawdust Festival.  Like a good Willie Nelson song, the two of us just couldn’t wait to ‘get on the road again.’

 

Day one led straight to Prunedale and the home of ex-Lagunan, Sue Klassen Jones.  Her husband, Curt, patiently bore three hours of girl talk, chatter about Laguna living now and then, and of course, more girl talk.  Sue’s cats decided that the visitors were okay, received appropriate pets and eventually all fell into a wearied sleep. 

 

Morning - hot coffee - a brief stop at Starbucks for chai tea – extra hot, no water - and then on to the Elkhorn Slough.  Fellow paddler and Lagunan, Lynn Brown, had insisted that we not miss paddling in this inlet from Moss Landing. 

 

A group of local school kids were de-rigging their kayaks when we arrived.  A strong wind had whipped up a goodly amount of white caps and wind waves rolled across the surface.  Dark clouds added to the scenario and we could have easily turned back, but no … intrepid travelers that we are, we unloaded the kayaks from the roof, popped together paddles, tied on pfds and slid into the cool dark shallows of the slough. 

 

Tall trees - pine and cypress mixed with oak and eucalyptus - lined the waters edge.  Reed-laden marshes sheltered migratory shorebirds.  Whimbrels and willets pecked for savory treats among the slender grasses.  Arctic terns hovered in the windy sky while sighting prey, wings flapping mightily in the stiff breeze, only to shift to a vertical dive headfirst into the water, and on most returns, a beak filled with fish as reward for their efforts.  Great blue heron and white egret stood as sentinels along the edges of the mudflats, their lanky silhouettes in stark juxtaposition to the caramel colored hills behind them. 

 

We paddled from Kirby Park to the end of the slough, laughing as we discovered a golf course in the distance.  A bevy of carts and golfers – not to be mistaken for the bevy of quail rushing through the dry grass - mingled with what had been our regenerating wilderness experience.  An Amtrak Starliner rounded the bend and suddenly we were part of the scenery.  We waved to the diners and turned our minds back toward paddling. 

 

The sky had shifted from cloud-filled to bright sun and the wind settled so that the paddle back was serene.  We reflected on the quiet, the stillness, the lack of traffic and the solitude that both of us had been seeking, and had discovered on day two of our journey.

 

After the boats were re-loaded, we made a quick stop at the visitor center for a wash-down, a change of clothes and the purchase of some postcards.  An Audubon bird collection caught Emma’s eye, and just as quickly a stuffed robin and red-tail hawk, complete with internally packed recordings of their vocalizations, adorned our two backpacks.  These birds would become the center of a series of giggling episodes to be revealed later.

 

We appeared to drive in circles after leaving the slough.  All efforts to head east and avoid San Jose/Oakland/SF traffic seemed thwarted by the on-board navigation system bent on sending us directly north.  After many false starts, we found ourselves back at the Starbucks in the Prune Tree shopping center where we had begun the morning. 

 

What the heck?  Two more chai teas – extra hot, no water – and we were back on the road heading east toward Interstate 5.  A vicious wind, that would force us to stop no less than six times to re-tighten the boat straps, built with each mile, so that by the time we reached San Luis Reservoir and the aqueduct, white caps and waves crashed along the shore of each. 

 

We had initially hoped to make Ashland, Oregon for the night, recalibrated with Redding as a destination, but as the wind persisted, settled happily for a Best Western in Corning, California.  Tired eyes, happy spirits, hot showers and a good night’s sleep.  Day three lay before us, filled with the promise of more magic to be found on the road ... and the open drawer of child-spirited delights.

 

Catharine Cooper loves wild places.  She can be reached at ccooper@cooperdesign.net.