Redwoods and Sunsets

The day started a little more slowly as we grew accustomed to Pacific time. We went to eat at a lovely little place called Omelet Express in Railroad Square Santa Rosa. We could have spent the entire day just haunting the kitschy thrift and antique shops, little book stores and art galleries. As it was we had a great breakfast with way more food than any of us needed. But the thrill was CaDiva encountering a former gentleman friend dining with a young coworker of the pert female persuasion.

Ladies, it was gorgeous. She walked over there, looking seriously great with her newly acquired wavy short hair and adorable vacation outfit and just stood there. It was what we all dream will happen when we encounter a former...gentleman friend...He couldn't get a word out around his blithering. CaDiva said it reminded her of the old Honeymooner's show with Ralph's "Huminah Huminah Huminah"

After humbling himself appropriately, her friend offered us tickets to the Harvest Fair and a dinner nearby our hotel. That is a story unto itself. There was some negotiation and machinations that were beyond our interests but allowed us some shopping time before we could go to his place of business to pick up the tickets.

Which leads us to yet another amendment to the girl trip rules, When a shopping opportunity is presented, it takes an act of congress to cancel it. HRH found a lovely antique perfume bottle for Her Momness.

The next item on the agenda was hunting down the old Italian grocery/deli CaDiva wanted for our picnic. Traverso's had moved from the old location well out into a newly developed section of town but our GPS devise, Jillian, and cell phones got us there in good time. CaDiva said it lacked the charm and selection of the old location, no hardwood floor or lathe and plaster holding aromas of a few generations of feeding the neighborhood. Still, we spent an hour rummaging through the place to find the right wine, sandwiches and salads for our lunch and dinner picnics. Oh, and HRH got some burning hot chips to snack on between shopping and lunch. Note to HRH, you need more lip balm and water before you try those chips again.

The store opened up the wine just enough to let us get at it during lunch but not so open to be illegal in the car. I was the hero for remembering glasses. We packed the food in an insulated Harrod's bag CaDiva picked up on her trip to London and headed out, after everyone visited the ladies' room, of course.

We drove inland and north to Armstrong Grove through miles of stands of eucalyptus trees. Our old gym had a eucalyptus room we treasured before they went belly up. It was our reward for working so hard. And this was just as rewarding without being so intrusive or sweaty for that matter. Dang I wished we had a convertible.

We stopped at the general store, to visit the ladies' and scope out the route. CaDiva was a little disappointed at the number of people, but HRH and I couldn't have been more pleased. The entire stand is only 3/4 of a mile deep but there was access by car well up into the picnic area. We found a table in the shade and ate enrobed in the filtered sun and scented silence. We found ourselves speaking in the hushed tones usually reserved for church. CaDiva telling us about her visits here and how she reveled in the all consuming peace of the place.



We walked the trails as far as CaDiva and I were able. I will always regret that HRH felt she had to hold back for us, but if she hadn't I suppose we wouldn't have had witnesses to CaDiva mistaking the Men's room for ADA accessible restroom. Unfortunately she reads this so I can't post the photographic evidence.

The Colonel Armstrong (for whom the grove is named) was shrouded in an verdant shower of sunbeams. He is over 30 stories high. The walk past him lead us back to the picnic area or down to the Parson, slightly taller though younger, isn't that always the way.



Lunch was one of the best meals we had had so far and we stayed in the grove as late as we dared and still hoped to get back to the coast for sunset.

We followed the Russian River to Goat Rock Beach, looking for a place to fill in our depleted groceries. After a couple of stops, including some window shopping, we decided we would rather enjoy the remnants of lunch than settle for eating at a dine-in cafe. Although we were seriously tempted by Duncan's Mill. The shops were almost too tempting but we were on a mission. Sunset was looming. And the temperature was dropping.

For the only time during our nine days, the temperature on land dropped and the wind got a bite to it. Still we were high on a bluff and could see Goat Rock in front of us, Goat Rock Beach to the right and Arch Rock and Arch Rock Beach to the left. In fact, we didn't even take time to eat. We sat up there, shivering in the car, and watched the show. The sky was absolutely clear except for a single finger of foggy clouds right where the sun was going down. Just enough to add the contrast needed for an dreamlike sunset. Then behind us, in a case of celestial sibling rivalry, a full-pale moon rose in counter point to the sunset.

I could pretend to have words to describe this, but sister's pictures do it more justice.













The evening ended at a great restaurant called Latitude, just up the road from the Double Tree. We would have missed it if not for the gift from CaDiva's old friend. But that is a post for itself. So I'll tell you about it tomorrow.