A fall coastal retreat before the chaos of election week
I didn't realize how much I needed grounding until I found myself in Mendocino County among the redwood trees.
It’s time to breathe deep, my friends. Do what you can to ground yourself in the here and now.
I’ve been debating whether to move up my publish date on this week’s piece, given how fraught this week has the potential to be. I didn’t plan to write about the election at all, but Sunday morning, I went for a walk alone along the rocky cliffside of the Northern California coastline, and the words started tumbling out.
Hubs and I spent the weekend in Mendocino County, known for its unspoiled views of the rugged Northern California coastline, spectacular redwood forests, and abundant wineries. I’d intended the trip to be a romantic getaway, especially since Hubs has been traveling a lot for work, and we haven’t had enough time together. But I quickly realized this trip was actually about something else: getting grounded. This was certainly the place to do it.
I flew into San Francisco late, and we spent Friday night at a B&B in Healdsburg, the cutest little town nestled on the banks of the Russian River, about halfway to our destination in Mendocino. Saturday morning, we had breakfast on the B&B’s patio overlooking the river, then took a stroll through Healdsburg’s historic square.
Lined with redwoods, eucalyptus, and trees in vibrant stages of fall, the square was bustling. People were friendly and upbeat, chatting on benches, sipping coffee, browsing the shops, and enjoying the crisp autumn air. All seemed right in the world.
But just as we were leaving, I caught a glimpse outside my car window of a man carrying a sign to the square. In red and blue, it read: “Dictator or Democracy.” It felt like a reminder … there is so much at stake this time around.
We continued on, stopping at the vineyard of my husband’s favorite wine, the gorgeous Kistler vineyard, then followed the twisty, two-lane Highway 128 as it wound through golden hills, fields of orange and burgundy grape leaves, and miles and miles of magnificent redwoods that formed a protective tunnel around the road. At last, the trees opened to reveal ocean. We connected to the Pacific Coast Highway, and just a few miles later, arrived at the Heritage House Inn—a spectacular 37-acre property with a handful of rooms and suites, many offering unobstructed views of the water.
After dropping our bags, we headed down to a gazebo perched on a rocky outcrop, snapping a few photos. I shared one with a group of friends on a text thread—currently focused on the election—and captioned it, “Weekend getaway before the world goes to hell.” It felt fitting.
We then drove to the village of Mendocino, and explored the bluffs and beaches of Mendocino Headlands State Park before dinner. Our destination was Luna Trattoria, a popular spot known as one of the most romantic restaurants in town. We hadn’t made a reservation, and when we called, they warned us the bar might be our only option. But even the bar was full when we arrived. The hostess, however, promised to squeeze us in if there was an early no-show. Sure enough, within 15 minutes, we were settled into an intimate corner of the backyard garden.
A guitarist set up nearby and started playing covers. As Hubs and I chatted about our day, I must have recognized the opening notes because I whispered to him, “I hope this isn’t ‘Imagine,’ or I’ll be crying.” It was, and I did. Half a glass of wine in, I felt the prick of tears and tried to hold them back, but John Lennon’s “Imagine” makes me cry on a good day, and this was a good day, but as I listened to the words—“imagine there’s no countries”—I realized how unprepared I am for what’s coming.
I think many of us are in this place now—grappling with the unknown. By all accounts, this is shaping up to be one of the closest elections in recent memory. And whatever the outcome, it seems likely there will be unrest, if not outright violence, and it seems highly unlikely we’ll have a resolution by the end of Election Day. Most of us, I think, are bracing for the worst.
On the way to the airport Friday, I listened to an NPR report on the rising stress levels around the election. According to the American Psychological Association, nearly 7 out of 10 American adults say the nation’s future is a significant source of stress in their lives.
At dinner, it hit me: I’ve been in denial about this election. To be clear, I voted early, so my part is done. The part I’m in denial about is everything that comes after the polls close.
To offset some of that stress, which we would have done with or without an election, Hubs and I headed for a hike Sunday to walk among giants. I wanted to see if I felt for redwoods what I feel for aspens (close but not quite the same). Mostly, I just wanted to find solitude. We drove to Russian Gulch State Park for what turned into an eight-mile hike along the Fern Canyon and Waterfall Loop trails since the trail head was closed.
The trail begins near the ocean and winds deep into the forest, with gentle ascents leading toward the falls. For most of the hike, we had the trail to ourselves—a rare treat to hear only the wind, to stand in the presence of towering redwoods, firs, and pines, and to feel the soft spring of leaves and needles underfoot. It was the highlight of our trip, though the day ended on a high note with an incredible 11-course dinner at the Michelin two-starred Harbor House Inn. The experience was rivaled only by a quick walk among the redwoods at Navarro River Redwoods State Park on our way home.
Amid the noise and worry of recent weeks, this quiet time away felt like a gift, a reminder of how important it is that we find moments that soothe our nervous systems however we can.
So, friends, take care and do what you need to stay grounded. Hug a tree. Breathe in the eucalyptus, the lavender, the salt of the sea. Lose yourself in nature, even for a moment, and let it bring you gently back to the here and now.
Drop me a line and let me know: how are you feeling today and most importantly how are you staying grounded?
More pics from the trip below …
WOW! Those redwoods are ... majestic doesn't begin to describe their beauty. What am I doing for this election stress? I have to admit I have purposefully avoided news and opinion about it as much as possible from the moment I cast my vote. I know I am not prepared for what comes next, regardless.
I love the heart shaped stone pic