I just had to share a few excerpts from an amazing travel story on Humboldt County, California from the Spring 2011 T magazine. Writer Wells Tower (great name!) peppered it with some hilarious observations and painted a picture of the area and culture so beautifully.
On an alpine stretch of Route 299, heading into Trinity National Forest, plumes of fog rose from the hillsides, which resembled a sodden green carpet slung over a scalding radiator. Dark, confidential groves of Douglas fir and redwood crowded the little highway, emanating a kind of Narnian ominousness. A skeptical East Coast type by nature, I started having some newfound, Californian feelings about “the energy” of the forest.
And another …
I went back to the desk and asked if I might stay on through the rest of the week, which, incidentally, would overlap with New Year’s Eve. The desk clerk — ground down, I imagined, by her daily dealings with local free spirits and individualists — looked at me like I’d asked to crash for free on her couch.
“O.K.,” she finally said. “But you can’t bring a bunch of crazy, noisy people back to your room.”
“I don’t know any crazy, noisy people here,” I told her.
“You’re going to meet some, believe me,” she said.
“Well, even if I do, I don’t think I’ll want to bring them home with me.”
“They can be very persuasive,” she said.
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