The trip continues, part 3

The Willits Chamber of Commerce had teamed up with the ranch’s Community and funds had been raised to save and restore the buildings which had been part of the ranch when it had been the home of the infamous racehorse Seabiscuit. When I had lived there, I worked at the Print Shop, which had formerly been the stallion barn. A few years after I moved to Alaska, the Print Shop had gone out of business and now it had been restored as the stallion barn, with Seabiscuit’s own box stall now standing as it had when he had spent his last years at Ridgewood.

A lot of research had been done, and care had been taken to restore everything in loving detail. A wall in the Community Dining Room is now adorned with photos of the ranch as it had been in its heyday. Bing Crosby and other famous people had come to stay at the ranch when the Howards had owned it. The Howard house had also been restored, and Tracy Livingston, my old friend, gave Bob and I the tour of the ranch, which he now gives to people who come to visit the former home of Seabiscuit and the Howards. A replica of the life-sized statue of Seabiscuit stands on a pedestal in front of the Howard house. The original statue is still at the Santa Anita racetrack- where the famous match race between War Admiral and Seabiscuit took place.

I was pleased to see that much of the landscape surrounding the ranch is unchanged. Oak, manzanita and pine trees still cloak the rolling hills. Even descendants of the white deer, which were a gift from Randolph Hearst to the Howards back in the 1940’s, are still in the valley.

All too soon it was time to say goodbye to my dear friends again, and Bob drove us to his home on Wildwood Lake in Penn Valley. After a few days there, we headed back to San Francisco and on down to Belmont. My family had moved to Belmont in 1969, when we left the City.

I had gone to three schools there, including Carlmont High. On this trip I got to visit my old high school and was amazed to see that it hadn’t changed very much. We also drove by my former home and found that a new room had been added to the front. The brick wall, which my Dad had built, with the help of my brother and I, was still standing, complete with the owl statues Dad had included in his design.

The area had been built up, with many more houses now lining the narrow road winding along the top of the canyon which started in our backyard. But the big old plum tree which stood in the meadow where us neighborhood kids had played is standing there still.

Before leaving the area, we visited the Baylands one last time. It had not been an official preserve when I had lived in the Bay Area, but forward-thinking people had seen its value as a vital bird migratory stopover in time to save it as a wildlife preserve. On this visit I got to watch canvasback, ruddy, and goldeneye ducks, among other bird species that would soon be making the trip to Alaska.

I noticed a woman with her camera’s large zoom lens pointing up into a tall tree by a pond. When I asked her what she was photographing, she pointed out several pairs of black-crowned night herons on precarious-looking nests spread out on the branches over our heads. I had never seen this species before, and was at once enchanted by their handsome plumage and orange eyes.

Out on the mud flats shorebirds massed, getting ready to begin their northward migration. Hawks soared by overhead, and hummingbirds defended their territories in bushes next to the walking trails. I watched a blimp land in front of a huge hangar at Moffet Field in the distance.

I marveled at how all these wild birds manage to co-exist with the trappings of humanity surrounding their estuary. I was happy that soon they would be settling in to the wild lands of the north country, spending the summer raising their families.

The next day we traveled back out to the coast, driving down to Point Reyes to visit the historic lighthouse. Wildflowers were in bloom, and fog drifted in off the ocean. I was kept busy photographing egrets, hawks, vultures and sea birds.

Over the next couple of days we traveled back up to San Francisco, then up highway 101 again. I was hoping to return to the coast and be able to photograph the redwoods I had been denied during the rainy trip down. But it was not to be. Stopping in Willits at a gas station, I asked the clerk about the route farther north. She said the highway was closed, due to mudslides, and that we would need to go back to Ukiah and head east to highway 5. I was disappointed not to be going up the coast, but at least I did get to see Mount Shasta again.

We arrived in Ashland on April 3, a few hours before Lyra and I were due to fly back to Anchorage. The flight back was long, but Lyra took it all in stride. We were both glad to be back on the ground, and the next day I drove us back to Talkeetna.

I was a little concerned that there wouldn’t be much snow left, as friends had told me it was melting fast in the warm spring weather and lengthening daylight. Not to worry -- there was plenty of snow, and breakup was still weeks away. I was delighted to experience two springs, this year. I was also privileged to be at the launch point of the spring migration, and to be back in Alaska in time to see the birds arriving.

While it was great to visit places old and new, and re-connect with dear friends and relatives, I have no desire to go Outside again. Alaska is my home, and I am more than happy to be back here. As for Lyra, she has the enviable knack of being completely happy wherever she is at the moment. I look forward to exploring summer trails with her, now that I’m back where I belong.