State parks are fantastic too: Part II.B - California, La Cuesta Encantada

I've visited and enjoyed the massive, sprawling, overwhelmingly opulent and magnificent Hearst Castle,  also known as La Cuesta Encantada (The Enchanted Hill) a couple of times over the past three or so decades, but I think I've finally gained sufficient life experience now to be awed by it in ways I could not be before -- it is, after all, an awful lot to take in. The Castle, for which ground was broken in 1919, is perhaps the greatest legacy of media baron William Randolph Hearst. It is now managed by the California State Parks, open for public viewing, and maintained to the highest museological standard.
Hearst (grandfather of the notorious kidnapping victim-cum-criminal-cum-model citizen, Patty Hearst)  was himself bigger than life, and his enterprises were fabulously lucrative, as woefully dys-imagined in the movie Citizen Kane. Not one to fritter away his fortune on profligacy (at least, not the usual kind), Hearst developed the family ranch overlooking the Pacific Ocean at San Simeon, California, into a mansion and estate beyond compare. Today it's a do-not-miss along California Highway 1.
The Castle was a 28-year collaboration between Hearst, with his money and acquisitive taste, and the brilliant architect Julia Morgan. Morgan, like Mary Jane Colter, was a standout in a field dominated by men, and like Colter, her considerable accomplishments beyond the the work for which she was best known during her lifetime (the Castle), was largely uncelebrated until recent years. Also like Colter, it seems she never had budget constraints. Nor limitations on the talent and skills she could recruit to import, build or restore, install, replicate, and maintain the exquisite treasures,  baubles, fancies, and architectural elements in their entireties, mostly of the Mediterranean world and from all eras, ancient to 1930's and 40's contemporary.

A turkey vulture gazes across the Hearst acreage to the "Castle" at the top of a 1,600 foot hill, San Simeon, California

We started the morning of our tour at our sea-level hotel, with the famous California fog so thick we could hear but not see waves sloshing on the beach across the street. We boarded a bus at the visitor center a few miles away and were driven up along the winding road until suddenly we popped through the fog and found ourselves looking down at a bright cloud deck of puffy white shining in the California sun, exactly as if we had ascended in a plane. 

We gathered at the foot of the facade of the La Casa Grande (the big house, main house) to admire its busy decoration and to take a look up into the bell towers.  Inside we found ourselves in the cavernous Assembly Room, too dark to photograph well, but designed to cushily accommodate large numbers of guests for cocktails prior to proceeding to dinner in the so-called Refectory.

At this "modest" dining table the Hearsts (William Randolph and his wife Millicent, and, after their separation, WR and actress Marion Davies, his companion for the rest of his life) hosted society's luminaries from politicians to Hollywood mainstays to businessmen and celebrities of all ilks.

It's hard to imagine that the Hearst dinner parties were ever described as "casual," but that's the way he wanted them.
Next up was the Billiard Room, lined with this huge 15th century French tapestry hunting scene  to suggest, I suppose, that the room is meant for the recreation of very well-dressed people. 

No object in the Hearst Castle, however old or new, is in less than exquisite condition.
The final interior room of our tour was the movie theater in which Hearst and guests, and, apparently also the staff, enjoyed movies produced at Cosmopolitan Productions, owned by none other than WR, of course. (Most of the movies were not memorable, but were certainly money-makers at the time.) I've not been able to establish seating capacity, but it was at least 50. In the cavernous room too dark for my photo purposes, this shot of  a "simple" life-sized wall sconce well represents the general idea.

Not to be outdone by the interior are the vast gardens with free-standing guest mansionettes, swimming pools, tennis courts, sculptures, fountains, and luxuriant flora. Here is Casa del Monte, guest house "B" (out of three) which is doubtless larger, prettier, and most certainly better attended and accoutred, than the average American middle class home:

Sculptures and fountains and embellishments abound:

 

In spite of its prominence in views up to the Casa Grande from the Neptune Pool (see below), I've been unable to identify this lovely Spanish-style fountain. Perhaps rather than being an original object of great value, it is a cheap imitation. One of the annoying shortcomings of the Castle-as-museum is the complete absence of labels or on-line access to catalogs of the holdings. I wouldn't be surprised if this is intentional, so as not to spoil the illusion that this was a real home, albeit inhabited by its owner part-time, and by people who do not seem particularly real.

Another unidentified but charming garden ornament.

Detail, ironwork screen on one of the guest houses created by Californian Edward Trinkkeller

No opportunity to add detail was passed up.
The iconic ultimate outdoor attraction at Hearst Castle is the 345,000 gallon Neptune Pool with its complex period architectural and decorative references and sky-mirroring color.

 

Hearst collected live exotica as well:

Some species, like the poor polar bears and elephant, lived mostly in the confines of a zoo. Others, like these Grey's zebras, progeny of the originals, were free to graze with the beef cattle on what is now the Hearst Corporation Ranch. 

By the time we had to go on our way the fog had cleared, revealing views all the way to the Pacific Ocean, providing a taste of what it was that Hearst so loved about this spot.

This report barely touches the surface of La Cuesta Encantada's epic. The researching and writing of it has brought home of how little I was able to absorb, even on this visit as a more worldly person than on previous encounters. It would be an enormous indulgence to go back again too soon, though. But indulgence is the name of this game, is it not?

State parks are fantastic too: Part II.A - California

As much as we enjoyed the state parks of southeastern New Mexico, I can vouch that at least a few parks and reserves in the great state of California are as spectacular, or maybe more so, than any other state parks I've been to. I was fortunate, within a little more than a month of our visit to New Mexico, to join my friend LCB in San Francisco for a spectacular tour down Highway 1 along the Pacific Coast to Los Angeles. The weather was predicted to be cool and drizzly, so we reeled in our expectations. As it turned out, every day of the week was temperate, sunny, and, except for requisite morning fog many days, and a layer of drippy clouds one afternoon in Pasadena, beautifully clear for taking in the views.
Our first state park of the trip was Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park, near Santa Cruz. This is a modest woodland as redwood forests go, both in area and number of giant trees, but it is nonetheless a joy to see trees that were sprouts more than 1,500 years ago standing staggeringly straight and tall. The tallest is about 281 x 17 feet (at its base). The park wasn't busy that afternoon, allowing us to walk peacefully along the wide, duff-paved paths.

The area, coolly shaded by the gigantic canopy, has long been a tourist destination. Here, in the detritus of autumnal deciduous trees (particularly the fragrant California bay, Umbellularia Californica) that live trunk-to-trunk with the conifers (in the case of Henry Cowell, Sequoia sempervirens and the ponderosa pine, Pinus ponderosa), we found an early 20th century fire hydrant out-doing the colored leaves. While the hotels and campgrounds are no longer close by, this little guy, with his full history of changing colors revealed, is a reminder that the area has long appealed to tourists. 

Happily, the enclave of old growth is still attracting new generations of redwood-gazers, here taking a doubtless well-earned rest on a convenient redwood bench.

Not far from Henry Cowell, along the Pacific coastline, is Point Lobos State Reserve, set aside because of its historical whaling and fishing legacy as well as its spectacular scenery and abundant marine wildlife. It features this 1851 whalers' cabin, now serving as the Whaling Station Museum. As noted in the brochure, "[i]ts contents represent hundreds of years of occupation of Whalers Cove by indigenous peoples, Chinese fishermen, Japanese abalone fishermen, Portuguese whalers, and others." Its exhibits certainly bring home how phenomenally rich and important the natural resources are along that stretch of ocean.

This is a quiet spot in the Cove below the cabin where moon jellies have drifted into the kelp (Nereocystis leutkeana). We had of course aimed to see sea otters, which make the cove their home, but it was not to be this time.

The drive south from Whalers Cove quickly yields vaster views...

...and typical California wildlife. These are harbor seals (Phoca vitulina richardsi), clearly enjoying the sun on a little outcrop close to shore. Not disturbed by the presence photographers and other polite on-lookers (and of course it's illegal to pester or harm them), they spend untold hours lazing in what look like terribly uncomfortable positions on the safety of offshore rocks. One unusual characteristic is their coloration, which varies from white with Dalmatian-dog spots to brownish gray to charcoal with white spots. Some even have a distinct bluish cast to their fur.

Farther to the south, near the little town of Cambria, is the Piedras Blancas State Park with its remarkable elephant seal (Mirounga angustirostris) rookery. The elephant seals spend half the year or more out of the water, shedding their skin and fasting on safe sandy beaches. When we were there  the females and juveniles had arrived; the males, with their exaggerated proboscises, were still out feeding in the ocean. Watching them was very entertaining nonetheless. 

They hang out in enormous piles, mostly snoozing, snoring, and grousing at one another as they jockey for a comfortable place amongst the resting bodies between naps. Grumpy as they seem I think the one in the middle just told a good joke.

Sometimes they look like best friends.

But would a friend flip sand all over your head?

The viewing is wonderful and safe for all concerned. That's Piedras Blancas ("white rocks") lighthouse in the distance.