Memoir

Mendocino

Mendocino

In 1969, a small, obscure rock/blues/country band called Sir Douglas Quintet came out with a song about their newfound state’s groovy northern coast. Mendocino was born in April that year and spent 27 weeks on the Billboard charts, topping out at 27th. That carried it through Woodstock, when the music world shifted. In fact, one could go so far as to say that a Texas-originated band like Sir Douglas Quartet, that clearly took on a British-sounding name to draft behind the power of the British Invasion, was the end of the feel-good era of rock n’ roll that gave way to the more radical anti-war era. The lyrics are all about grooving out in this mind-blowing and chill town overlooking the crashing waves of the chilly part of the Pacific Ocean. One could even say that Mendocino was the anti-Beach Boy song, the group that led the American side of the British Invasion and certainly owned a large slice of the groovy, feel-good music scene. Unlike the beaches of Southern California where The Beach Boys played, Mendocino, while lovely, would never be accused of being warm and sunny. It was and is chill by any standard, in fact Mendocino is about as groovy as anywhere.

We were in the car driving the coast north of Mendocino yesterday. After Fort Bragg (one of the great fortless Fort towns) we kept going into the Redwoods. We were tired of MSNBC and all the news about racially-linked police shootings (popping up like mushrooms after a warm summer rain), so we tuned into Sirius’ 70’s radio and what should come on but The Doobie Brother’s China Grove. Now that’s a song that made it to 15th on the Billboard 100 charts in 1973 and is emblematic of the late Vietnam War era in our country. It’s one of those songs that always takes me back to college days, perhaps more than any song other than hearing Rod Stewart belt out Maggie May. Strangely enough, the story told in the song is entirely fictional and while the town of China Grove exists near San Antonio, Texas, it has never had a predominant Asian population (there were 10 people of Asian descent there in 2000, 0.8% of the town population). So any connection with Vietnam (I always assumed the town was populated with Vietnamese, Laotians or Cambodians, for some reason) is just a sharing of the year of its release with the removal of combat troops from Vietnam.

We are leaving Mendocino this morning and are as impressed with the views from Heritage House, looking out over the magnificent coast and the powerful Pacific waves that have been constantly pummeling this coast for much longer than man has walked this earth. This part of the world is amazing. California is an amazing state. It has existed for several hundred years LESS than the eastern parts of the country. It was still in the early years of its being explored and settled while the rest of the country was fighting itself in the Civil War. And yet, it is the center of entertainment, technology and even much of the defense and cellular industries. But then, it’s population centers greatly favor the Southern California coast, where population density from Santa Barbara south to San Diego (at least for some 30 miles or so inland) is now a sprawl as much as the Boston to D.C. corridor in the east. Then, thanks in large part, the area from Carmel up through Marin County is similarly populated. But the area from Carmel to Santa Barbara and again north of Marin are as desolate and remote as the loneliest places on the planet. Some will argue that the same is true about the Eastern half of the state, pretty much for its full north/south length of 1,040 miles. As we drove southeast from Mendocino, we had to drive through 67 miles of raw coastline and forest primeval. We stopped for breakfast in Boonville, a small town of 1,035 people (smaller than China Grove) that is so remote that it has its own language, called Boontling, which the residents invented so that they could communicate without any outsiders understanding them. Even Butcher Hollow, the Appalachian town where Loretta Lynn grew up was not that backward.

We stopped in our Mercedes and our friends had their Audi. I’m sure this little wide spot in the road through the Redwoods probsbly gets five times as many foreign make cars than American make cars, but apparently they have adjusted and are happy to serve omelettes to anyone. If you want a latte, you have to go back to the town of Philo, where someone presumably went south to San Francisco once and discovered the Starbucks formula for success. But seriously, that long drive reminds you about just how isolated this beautiful coastline is from civilization. At one point during our visit I looked up how far the nearest Walmart (not exactly an upscale affectation) was, and I learned I would have to drive over 90 minutes to get to one from Mendocino. I’m sure that bush pilots in Alaska would find my observations funny, but this is the coast of California for Pete’s sake. I’ve always been amazed that Hearst Castle is still so remote right in the middle coastline of the state a full century after it was built.

The blend of Redwoods, Cyprus trees leaning against the onshore winds and craggy rocks whose wear and tear are hardly noticeable over three generations of our lifetimes despite the harshness of cold North Pacific waves and the Japanese (technically Kuroshio) Current that grinds away at this coast as it has for eons, are both unique and irresistible.

Well, let’s be reminded that Sir Douglas Quintet wrote and sang Mendocino a full 50+ years ago and the city’s population still only stands at 894. With that sort of scale (200 souls less than Bodega Bay after The Birds), you just know there must be something special that causes people to sing it’s praises and travel hours north without the comfort of Starbucks or Walmart’s. That special quality has always been there and will be there long after we and our Mercedes Benz are long gone. We will revisit Mendocino as many times as we can in the future.