Tag Archives: Oregon Cavemen

San Francisco trip, part the first

Golden Gate Bridge.

Golden Gate Bridge.

We got tickets in San Francisco to see Leonard Cohen over Easter weekend. Brian took a few days off and we drove down to explore.

The last few times I’ve driven to California, I took Hwy 101 along the coast, so I don’t think I’ve driven on I-5 on that stretch since I was a kid. It’s well worth it – you go from Portland, to Salem’s farmlands, to forests, to the mountains and up and down and up and down, to farmlands in California before bursting into San Francisco.

I drove Oregon, so I don’t have many pictures of that. We pulled over in Grants Pass to look at the monument to Oregon Cavemen. Here he is, in all his glory:

Brian with the Oregon Caveman in Grants Pass, Oregon.

Brian with the Oregon Caveman in Grants Pass, Oregon.

Also:

Caveman.

Caveman.

Continuing on, we hit the mountains near Ashland, and it was very beautiful. The rest of the drive until a good ways into California looked like this (click on it to make it larger, beautiful mountains):

Mountains.

Mountains.

As you cross the pass into California, you get a beautiful view of Mt Shasta, which was shrouded in clouds that day. Off in the distance, we saw Black Butte, which seems to sit at the bottom of Mt Shasta as if it’s waiting for you. Just at the point where you are convinced you will be driving over it, zoooom, the highway goes slightly to the right.

Black Butte on I-5, California.

Black Butte on I-5, California.

When we got into California, we saw signs that said that all vehicles must exit. Joking about the time Brian took a roadtrip into Canada and had to eat an apple every mile or toss them, we decided to finish off the strawberries quickly (mmmmmm so worth it). That’s the only reason I didn’t have to lie when the bored looking border guy asked, “Any fruit in your car?”

We got into San Francisco about 10:30 that night (yeah, we got a late start out of Portland) and walked around a little. We ended up eating at the restaurant attached to the Sir Francis Drake because of how late it was. The hostess there was so cool – she was older than us, but infinitely more elegant and cool than almost anyone I know.

Off to our room on the 7th floor, and to bed (more later, don’t want to type everything at once. You wouldn’t read it if I did).