Journal Entry — Eureka
I crossed into California without much ceremony. Same road. Same pace. Just a different name on the sign.
A traveling electrician picked me up not far past the line. Middle-aged. Work truck with ladders on the rack and wire spools stacked behind the cab. He said he covered a lot of ground—storm repairs, rural jobs, anything too far out for crews to bother with. Knew the roads. Drove like it.
We headed south with the coast on one side and trees closing in on the other. Redwoods showed up before I expected them. Taller than everything else. Closer together. The road narrowed without actually changing.
He talked some. Not much. Mostly about work and where it took him. I asked about a stretch ahead that pinched down between the trees.
“Funnels traffic,” I said.
He glanced over, then back to the road. “Yeah,” he said. “Does that.”
We passed a dirt turnoff marked with a gate and a couple of signs nailed to a post. Hand-painted. Faded. The truck slowed just a touch.
“Don’t walk up those,” he said.
I didn’t ask. Kept my eyes forward.
We rolled on after that. Conversation stayed light, then thinned out. The trees got taller. The light flattened. Everything felt closer to the road than it should have been.
He dropped me on the edge of Eureka. Said he was heading inland. We shook hands and that was it.
I walked for a while before finding a room. Nothing special. One-night kind of place. Set the bag down and went back out.
The beach sat lower here, tucked in behind driftwood and debris. Darker sand. Heavier underfoot. The water moved slower, like it had more to carry.
I took a few swings. Short. Controlled. Let the club finish and settle. The sand didn’t give much back.
After that, I went looking for food. I wanted something hot and a shot of tequila. Wanted a switch from seafood. Ended up at a smokehouse on the edge of town. BBQ, simple setup, a few tables still occupied.
Ordered meat and whatever they were pouring. The tequila came quick. No salt. No lime. Just a clean burn and a little warmth settling in. The food did its job.
I didn’t stay long.
Back in the room now. Quiet outside. Trees still close, even here.
Sand Rating: 6 / 10
Condition: Dark, heavy, compacted
— BG
Travel light. Swing hard.
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