Mendocino - What the Hell Am I doing in Texas?

 

Back to Mendocino

I’m back in Northern California, staying in Mendocino for my Uncle Bobby’s memorial near Little River, a few miles inland from the coast. He passed at 93 in the home he built from redwood trees on the same land where he, my dad, and their two siblings were born in the 1920s. The old farmhouse where my grandparents lived is long gone, but his house stands just a hundred yards from where it was. Uncle Bob was the youngest of the four and the last to pass.

The memorial was casual and comfortable—a picnic under old apple trees my grandparents planted and tall sequoias that began as Christmas tree seedlings I planted with my dad fifty years ago. Uncle Bob had left the area for a time, going to junior college, serving in the Army, and working in city politics in the East Bay before coming back to the family farm. He spent his later years organizing veteran events and enjoying life on the coast. His three daughters and their families eventually followed him back, all now living nearby in simple homes within walking distance.

My brother and I under a Christmas tree we planted

Uncle Bob's Memorial

My Uncle Bob and his bride, Mary-Alice, and my Italian grandparents

I am the ring-bearer!

My dad chose a different path, eventually selling his share of the land to his brother. I’ve sometimes wondered if I could have stayed here and been content. Up to this trip, I've always thought it would feel too isolated—and the fog too oppressive. Maybe that’s changed?

The Town and the Coast

Summer in Mendocino is still cool, with the air in the 60s and the smell of grass and sea in the wind. The ocean looks just as it did when I was a boy—unchanged, powerful, and steady. Its undescribably breathtaking. The town remains small, about 1,200 people, with many of the same stores and old buildings. And unlike Italy it's not too crowded with tourists. The Mendocino Hotel, a Victorian relic, still feels comfortable and, for now, affordable.

Big River-It hasn't changed since I was 12!

On my first evening, I walked down to Big River Beach, where I used to play as a boy, and played guitar while watching the waves. There are better dining choices now—five eclectic, gourmet farm-to-table restaurants, a few in nearby towns, and even an excellent Italian place, Luna Trattoria, run by an Italian woman. Aside from that, not much has changed. Time moves quickly, but Mendocino feels like it barely notices.

A Walk Through the Redwoods

The day after the memorial, I hiked in Van Damme State Park—about three hours through the redwoods, following a stream up into the prairie where my grandparents’ and uncles’ land lies. The forest was still and peaceful. I felt comfortable alone there from my youthful days, falling timber with my father on the coast. As a teenager, I’d done the reverse hike, coming down from the prairie to the coast.

The People Who Stay

During the memorial and around town, I met several people who’ve made Mendocino home. One man in his 50s moved from Sacramento to a house on the cliffs in Albion. He lives with his partner, gives walking tours in the redwoods, bikes along the coast, and says he has no regrets. At Café Beaujolais, I shared dinner with a semi-retired civil engineer who spent three years in Portugal and just bought a fixer-upper here. He’s stressed about the work and finances, but is making it fit.

On the flight into Santa Rosa, I sat next to an IT executive named PJ Weller, about 50, who said he’s overworked and taking ten days in Guerneville. He told me about losing his only son at 19. Maybe for him, keeping busy is how he copes.

Considering a Stay

The mix of solitude and simple community here made me wonder if I could live here for a while—maybe a month or two in the summer. In fact, in this video, I ask the question, "What the hell am I doing in Texas?!" The idea has appeal. I’d have space, nature, and time for reflection. The summers are ideal, the fog less of a burden than I remember. And the internet can keep me connected. My family probably wouldn’t visit often, if at all, and that might be fine.

Practical questions remain. The cost of living is much higher than in Texas. Winter weather can be wet and gloomy, but I could avoid that by coming only in summer. The social scene doesn't have the variety and quantity of Fort Worth commercial venues, and a bit unconventional in a California way, though there are activities—music, yoga, art, biking, maybe even a few humanist gatherings. And there was even a circus performing, because the millionaire who owns it lives in this community. Good medical care is in Santa Rosa, about an hour away. But with American serving Santa Rosa, and San Francisco International, 2 1/2 hours away, travel connections aren’t bad.

The circus comes to Mendocino every summer

For now, I’m not convinced it’s a place to live full-time, but spending a couple of months here could be a good test. It would offer time to slow down, reflect, and see how more solitude feels.