I’m rarely happy when leaving one of the world’s great cities. But San Francisco’s impatient drivers and cartoonish hills can sometimes make crossing the Golden Gate Bridge’s great rust-orange towers a relief rather than a delight.
The feeling is fleeting though, because once the chaotic Bay Area is successfully navigated, my drive north up California’s Highway 101 becomes something altogether different. Four lanes mercifully shrink to two, cities become towns and the drizzle peppering my windscreen diffuses into flares of sunlight as pockets of blue sky break through the cloud.
In this light, Mendocino County’s lumpy green hills appear fashioned from snooker table baize as woolly sleeves of mist hang over their summits. Circling hawks and doddery private planes buzz around even higher. For thousands of years, this land was home to the Pomo people, a large Indigenous tribe who relied on fishing, hunting and gathering for their survival but are probably best known nowadays for their intricate
basket weaving.
The colonisation of their lands in the 19th century made the Pomo a societal afterthought, though one artist didn’t see it that way. I stop in Ukiah, home to the Grace Hudson Museum. Born in 1865, Hudson was a prolific oil-painting artist and was famous for her sympathetic portraits of native people (most notably 1891’s National Thorn, portraying a Pomo baby asleep in a traditional basket). In a field dominated by men, her success was almost as unusual as the predominant subject of her work.
This small museum exhibits around 40 of her 685 paintings, while next door is the Sun House, Hudson’s grand bungalow, made from California redwood, where she lived with her husband John. Her art is a fascinating window into a dying culture as modern America expanded westward. But to learn more about the Pomo in the 21st century, I need to drive to the coast.
Turning off the 101 at Willets, California State Route 20 winds a serpentine 35-mile path through dense forests of second-growth redwoods before emerging at sea-sprayed Fort Bragg. My first sighting of the Pacific is majestic, as the Noyo River bends around a harbour studded with fish shacks and small bars, while the widescreen views from Pomo Bluffs Park reveal a rocky, weathered coast dotted by small bedrock islands.
Four miles south of Fort Bragg lies Xa Kako Dile, an Indigenous, women-led, non-profit organisation operating on a peaceful six-acre patch of land within a local farm. I’m greeted by U’ilani Wesley (who goes by U’i), the executive director. There’s nothing stuffy about that title – this is a place for conversation, creativity and healing.
“It’s a safe space for tribal organisations,” she says as we talk inside the converted barn they use as a headquarters. “My responsibility is – because I’m a guest here – to amplify their voices if they are not being
listened to.”
U’i is originally from Hawaii, but feels a deep connection with the people here and especially the land. She leads me outside and sings a soaring choral song welcoming me to the land. Other Pomo are given the opportunity to greet me with a few words and it’s humbling, especially hearing their warmth and reverence for the land.
“Widescreen views from Pomo Bluffs Park reveal a rocky, weathered coast dotted by small bedrock islands.”
Basket-weaving workshops, Indigenous storytelling and food markets are just some of the summertime events here, and I ask U’i how locals have taken to Xa Kako Dile since it opened two
years ago.
“They want to learn,” she says. “We rekindle a fire for them to search, even though it’s not a great past… if they go deep enough they’ll see the beautiful parts. Colonisation hurt us all, and what a lot of folks don’t realise is that it’s separated us as a humanity. We all need to figure out ways to work together better, as a people.”
Inside, Eric Wilder – a local Pomo – is leaning back in a swivel chair behind dark sunglasses. A graphic artist by trade, he’s proud of his heritage and often visits to give talks on that tradition.
“This place is cool; such a great energy here,” he tells me. “I think U’i’s the perfect person for this place. She was very hesitant at first when I met her, because she wasn’t from here, but I said, ‘You have a bigger tie to here than you realise’. Her people call it the Rainbow Bridge, that they travelled here on. We were told in our history that there’s a land bridge that went out to the islands. So we have the same story.”
Continuing my journey north toward Humboldt County, I join California State Route 1, also known as the Shoreline Highway. It’s a glorious drive, dipping and swirling along the cliffs as the breaking waves below fizz onto the shore. My ears pop as the road veers high into more redwood forests and the famous Avenue of the Giants, with the high trees sometimes just a foot or two away from the edge of the road, like imposing guardians of the wilderness.
Arriving in the handsome Victorian village of Ferndale, I meet Marcus and Leah Daniels who bridge communities from far afield in a unique way. Working from his musty tool-strewn ‘manufactory’ called Minds Eye, Marcus has a sparkling intensity in his eyes and hosts workshops building longboats for the Aleut people, natives of the distant Aleutian Islands, a community he’s been deeply involved in for 32 years.
“I’m real careful to not come across as a know-it-all,” says Marcus with a smile. “But I think the greatest gift I have to offer them is my enthusiasm. We’re able to learn together, helping them rediscover something.”
Chatting next to a crackling fire, which he incrementally feeds with lumps of wood, Daniels talks about how local tribes like Wiyot and Yurok have become involved too, and how he’s also helped them on their projects.
“It’s often really hard to find places where you can interact with Indigenous people on a meaningful level,” says his friend Steve, who wanders over to join us.
“So, it’s a nice little venue to get to know some of the local native groups,” Daniels adds. I agree, and the boats, tools and paintings are all evidence of the hard work and camaraderie that goes on here, where detached communities gain a little more understanding.
“It’s all beautiful landscape but not usable,” she explains. “Before colonisation, we had like 530,000 acres, and now we have 5,300, so it’s shrunk dramatically.”
My drive north turns ever-more arresting as Highway 101 crests toward Trinidad Bay, a small fishing village with a collection of gaudy offshore rocks rising from its glimmering waters. The dramatic approach is like a painting.
After walking among old-growth redwoods and soaking in the menthol-crisp air at Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, my final stop is Del Norte County, which nudges the Oregon state line in California’s extreme north. Reclaimed by the Tolowa Dee-ni’ Nation in 2016, Howonquet Village & Resort on the Smith River Estuary is a collection of tranquil water-facing lodges, which feel a million miles from the hum of Los Angeles or San Francisco.
Turning south, my final night is spent at the 111-year-old Requa Inn, alongside the Klamath River. The snaking river is also flanked by a Yurok reservation spanning 43 miles, though that’s nothing compared to what they once owned. After cooking me breakfast, owner and Yurok tribal member Jan Wortman joins my table to tell me more.
“My drive north turns ever-more arresting as Highway 101 crests toward Trinidad Bay… The dramatic approach is like a painting.”
Beautiful indeed: I awoke that morning to a sigh-inducing sunrise, the sky painted in strokes of blush pink. Sepia-toned photographs of Jan’s family line the hotel corridors and the Requa offers rides in redwood canoes, handmade by Yurok tribal members. But my time had run out.
“My husband always says that the space between heaven and earth is thinnest at Requa,” Wortman says. “So this is a very spiritual place. It’s amazing how many people walk into the inn and go ‘wow.’”
She’s right, and I can’t think of a more ideal ending to perhaps the most enlightening drive I’ve ever taken.
Need to know: North California
Getting there: San Francisco International Airport is the best place to arrive. Whether you want to start straight from the airport or spend a night in the city is up to you.
Getting around: Hire a car in San Francisco or fly to Arcata–Eureka Airport and rent a car up there to avoid the busy city.
Best time to go: California is a true year-round destination, where even winter will bring blue skies (with mild days and chilly nights). Summer is perhaps a little too busy, especially in the popular coastal towns, so aim for the shoulder seasons.
Where to eat: Patrona (patronarestaurant.com) is a superb laid-back restaurant in Ukiah that serves a majestic pork belly bahn mi that’s well worth stopping for. If you prefer coastal flavours, don’t miss the tender halibut fish and chips from Seascape Restaurant and Pier, located in Trinidad Bay.
Further information: visitmendocino.com / visithumboldt.com / visitferndale.com / visitdelnortecounty.com
