Today's history lesson was found at the Odd Fellows Cemetery (1885) in Santa Rosa, a non-sectarian cemetery for all families in the community. 

On a pre-storm 55° day, we grabbed coffees and scones and headed to the seashore.

Sea pork has been confusing beachgoers for generations, and scientists and others have spent well over a century trying to correct misconceptions about it. It’s not surprising that the creatures spark dark imaginings: In death, they look like bloated cutlets or waterlogged livers, so it’s easy to wonder whether unfortunate body parts are bobbing in the waves. It was definitely one of the weirdest beach finds, to date.

“Life takes you down many paths

but my favorite ones lead to the beach.”

While meandering along the shore of the Russian River, we were enamored with the tiny town village of Monte Rio.

But before the true tourists flocked here, the Bay Area Movers & Shakers had already discovered the magic here. Despite heavy logging during the second half of the 19th century, the Sonoma Lumber Company preserved a 160-acre grove of old-growth redwood trees, which was sold to San Francisco's Bohemian Club in 1899. The club purchased dozens of other parcels in the area, and now owns 2,712 acres, which it uses for its summer retreats.

If you don't know the story of this super secret, super powerful Club and its Monte Rio retreat, called the Bohemian Grove, it is really worth a read. Wow.

Monte Rio was developed as a tourist destination in the early 20th century when a  broad gauge rail line was extended west, making it relatively easy for vacationers to travel from San Francisco to the Russian River Valley. Early construction supported the fluctuating visitor population, with a movie theater, dance hall, bowling alley, bakery, newsstand, candy shop, grocer, restaurant, cigar shop, and a barber. Reminders of these old businesses can be found on repurposed buildings or hidden in the trees. It was a history scavenger hunt.

Historic downtown Monte Rio (Main Street) was comprised of "one and two-story vernacular commercial buildings with street-facing gabled roofs hidden behind shaped parapets. Awnings and signage were set at relatively equal heights and buildings were set back equidistantly from the street abutting wide pedestrian sidewalks."

My favorite building, which still remains, was built by Sid Bartlett, owner of Bartlett’s Store. Opened in the summer of 1949. The Rio Theatre's first movie to light up the screen was Northwest Passage, starring Spencer Tracy and Walter Brennan.

Over the decades, the oft-repeated story was that the Quonset hut was World War II surplus purchased from the U.S. Navy. But historian John Schubert says Bartlett bought the structure from Great Lakes Steel Corporation and had it assembled by a local contractor. Bartlett worked the projection booth (outfitted with an adjoining bathroom so he wouldn’t miss changing film reels throughout the movie). His wife Bessie took tickets and his son Al popped corn and worked the concession counter.

Like all things, this unique theater has its own story worth reading. I would love to experience something happening there... one day.

The town's buildings weren't just for consumerism and hedonism. St. Andrew's-in-the-Redwoods Church is a lovely building that has been a religious beacon for over 90 years.

Our final stop was at The Village Inn, a tradition on the Russian River since 1906.

What began as a summer home, built under the ancient redwoods on the south bank of the Russian River, became the only hotel located on its shore, in 1908.

What excited me was its cinematic importance. Scenes from the 1942 film, Holiday Inn, starring Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire were filmed at the Inn (with some help from artificial snow). Film historian Ken Barnes called it “the definitive Hollywood musical of the 1940s.” It’s about Jim Harper (Crosby), a singer who decides to escape the rat race of nightly performances in clubs by opening an inn in the country that’s only open on holidays. Currently, the Inn is only open on weekends, so I didn't get to wander in Fred and Bing's footsteps, sadly.

While prepping this post, I looked for vintage postcards to enrich the pictorial history. One site had 844 images of Monte Rio, showcasing its importance to tourism. I especially appreciated this illustrated postcard, from 1917, depicting departing train guests, with the caption, "Very sad moments leaving Monte Rio, California."

Somehow, I know this sign to be true. We will return. What a fun stop.

At the bottom of a box of donated books, at a local thrift store, I found a manila folder full of old newspapers. It was pretty fun to explore and I plan to share my treasures over a few posts.

After checking out of our campground, we were drawn to these unique totems.

After three days on the road (and only about 150 miles), we are back with family. This Sonoma Coast Sojourn was the ideal pause in life as we currently know it.