Look at a map of the state. Draw a line in the middle. Everything over the line is Northern California, everything below the line is Southern California.
Now what do you see?
The bay Area is North of this line... but barely. Let's take a look at a Football field. If you're over the 50 yard line you're in the other teams' territory. But I wouldn't exactly call the opponents' 45 yard line much. It's technically on their side of the field but is really more in a central no-man's land. The mid-field area if you like. The out of field-goal range region. Etc. The Red Zone (within 20 yards of the end zone) starts way further in. By this map, it would be just south of Redding, California.
Now stay with me a minute. Northern California has a reputation as being liberal, laid back, hippie-loving and so on. But have you been to this "Red Zone" area? It's super redneck. Of all the places I've visisted in this country, rural country road Georgia and WE-"hate Obama, because we're raci"ST Virginia included, these Northern California cities are perhaps the scariest most redneck places ever. We're talking about hundreds of lawns that prominently feature signs reading "Get the US Out of the UN.. NOW." How can this place be lumped into the same category as Free Love, dot com 2.0 innovation and the continent's biggest Chinatown?
Look again at our little California football field. The Bay area definitely isn't Southern California either. Culturally or geographically. But why can't we call it central California? Is that so hard? How about everything from Fresno to Santa Rosa. The whole region is Mid-Cali. There's Mid-Town Manhattan. They don't call Times Square downtown even though it's several blocks south. Downtown has a different culture. So it's a different place. In fact, let's do a side by side with a flipped Manhattan map. WHAT DO YOU SEE??? WHAT DO YOU SEE?????
The 45 yard lines are in the same place!
Disagree all you want but for Wagonwheel Wednesdays, there will be Northern California, Mid-California and Southern California. End of fucking story. Got it?
Now that I've rambled for longer than most of my entries, let's continue to the real Northern California.
It's a gorgeous place. You enter the state and immediately hit the Red Wood National Park. I personally prefer the Sequoia trees (which we'll touch on in the Mid-California entry) but the Redwoods are even taller. You drive through the forest and they're everywhere. My initial plan was to drive stay in "Crescent City" right on the other side of park. Then I saw Crescent City. It's the kind of place that makes Gary, Indiana look like Fiji. As paranoid as I am, Crescent City wasn't really an option for spending the night. I saw that if I drove a couple hours more, I'd arrive in the great city of Eureka. I have no idea why I thought Eureka would be paradise. Probably fond memories of Eureeka's Castle.
But me oh my, this place may've been freakier than Crescent City. For one, Crescent City didn't have a super old school low security prison in the middle of Main Street. I saw a few wanderers dragging their feet on the sidewalks and I didn't stay to see more. Enough was enough. It didn't help that thick cottage cheese fog began to roll in off the coast and limit my visibility to about five inches. I drove another thirty minutes or so finally found a Holiday Inn Express that didn't make me preemptively cower, hide and cry. THIS HORROR, THIS TERROR, THIS SCREAMFEST is the true Northern California
Am I being a bit bigoted? Perhaps. To all my Northern California readers, I'm sorry. I will give you all another chance. I still want to check out the Lassen Volcano National Park, so let's have a beer there in '09? Perfect.
P.S. The map of where I've been in California will come with the third and final California entry (on May 28th).
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