Glen N.
Yelp
Glass Beach. It's a cut above the rest.
Was it worth the four-hour drive from San Jose? For most people, maybe not. But for my wife and I, yes, since this has been on my bucket list since seeing episode #3009 of Huell Howser's "California's Gold" in 2001. It was then described as "a treasure hunter's paradise... a kaleidoscope of colored glass glittering in the Pacific surf", though now it's more a microscope than kaleidoscope.
Look up the history, but basically this area is one of three sites where trash was dumped 1949-1967. The biodegradable stuff biodegraded, the metal was taken for scrap, and the glassware and pottery pieces left behind were beaten by waves into smooth pieces. That may explain why Rhianna's skin was so smooth while dating Chris Brown.
We went twice on our overnight stay in Fort Bragg. The first day, we avoided the right side at the end of the trail, which was full of the kind of tourists responsible for negative reviews since the area is mostly sand and tide pools, where you'd find more glass in Sandy Duncan's eye.
To the left of the trail, a few questionable steps down contentious terrain down a dubious slope along a controversial ridge brought us to a small cove we had to ourselves with a beautiful waterfall backdrop (that came from a pipe).
There, I figured if you dug your hand into the pebbly ground within six feet of the water and scooped up a handful of pea to Jelly-belly sized pieces, about 40% would be glass, though 75% of that would be white or clear. For those of you who did not study for the test, this means that for every 20 pieces, 12 pieces are rock or shell, 6 are white or clear glass, and 2 have color, most likely amber or green.
So, in a way, it's like treasure hunting or panning for gold, especially when you know that the baby blue and red are rare.
The second day was after a visit to Captain Cass' Sea Glass Museum downtown, where his homemade signs suggest that attempts to criminalize crossing the ropes and taking glass are unconstitutional. Part of me likes the whole "know your rights, stick it to the man," aspect, but part of me thinks it's like those obnoxious "auditor" people who argue with cops saying they don't need to show a drivers license at a DUI stop because of commonwealth laws that allow you to marry your horse or smoke pot under a blue umbrella.
Anyway, his signs encouraged us to take the path far left and jump over the rope to inspect some debatable cliffs, where we found one with an unconvincingly safe path down problematic terrain along a spurious route down an apocryphal ridge past a conspicuous thesaurus to the beach.
From this cove (on Memorial Day), we could see no other people and we found a greater variety of colors even further from the water, though the pieces were smaller. Lucky for me my wife says size doesn't matter.