Tom W.
Yelp
When I moved to Humboldt County, I had certain expectations. I expected to work part time in Mad River Hospital's Respiratory Therapy department; I expected to earn a degree in Forestry at Humboldt State University; I expected to live in the camper I had brought only long enough to find a suitable apartment in either Arcata or Eureka; I expected to leave Humboldt County within two or three years, once I earned my degree, and become a Forest Ranger.
Things don't always turn out as you plan, and sometimes the change is for the better.
I quickly discovered that I had no interest in Forestry--as Forestry is a career in which you inform timber companies which trees they can cut down and what I had wanted was to preserve forests--and that the proper career choice (Interpretation) would require me to work in unappealing locations, like Death Valley, for years until I earned the right to work where I really wanted to (Yosemite), IF that opportunity ever came, which was unlikely because I was a white male in good health, and our government HATES white males in good health, so I dropped out of college. Before I knew it, I was working full time in the hospital and loving it.
I chose to live in View Crest Lodge because the trailer spaces had electricity, sewage, water, a laundry room and were dirt cheap. I stayed there for five years because I quickly grew to love the place. After that, I lived in Eureka for a few years and Humboldt County lost much of its charm for me.
The owners of View Crest at the time, Bill and Geri Heyne, were very accommodating and kept the place in excellent condition. At first, my friends and I (I made friends with virtually all the other trailer-dwellers within minutes of arriving) lived in the campground in the redwood forest on the top tier of the property. There was little privacy, as redwood forests have little undergrowth, but we were all friends and we could assemble at the pond on the west side of that tier to socialize. Before long, Bill carved permanent trailer spaces into the second tier of the property, among dense alders and thick shrubs. After a considerable amount of work, we transformed the sloping long, narrow patch of mud behind our sites into a small brook with several petite pools connected by a series of tiny waterfalls. When we finished, it was lovely and serene. Best of all, on that tier we could no longer hear the traffic of logging trucks rumbling down Hwy 101 as we had on the top tier, but instead heard crashing waves and the mournful barks of sea lions and elephant seals that congregated at the bottom of the cliff across Patrick's Point Drive. From our driveway, we had a splendid ocean view and often spotted migrating whales. It was Heaven on Earth, which is why I sold my camper, bought a 35-foot trailer and spent the next four years there.
The bottom tier contains the cabins nicely described by Rufus below. I'll add these comments about the cabins: some are larger than others are, but they are all more than adequate, less than quaint but clean and functional and lay in one of the most peaceful settings you will ever find. In the spring, swallows nest in the low eves on the porches of several units, only inches above your head if you're standing on the porch--and they don't seem to mind people much. Deer, raccoons, skunks and foxes pass through the property regularly and on occasion, you may also see a bear or even a bobcat. Best of all, Larrupin Café is right down the street, and if you like great food in an elegant setting, you MUST eat there.
Trinidad itself is a quiet, cozy, tiny fishing village that is the definition of charm. At Katy's Smokehouse, you can buy smoked salmon, a variety of fresh fish and cheap Dungeness crabs right off the boats. Trinidad State Beach and Agate Beach are popular destinations for visitors, and locals with a propensity toward nudism gather at College Cove, located between the two (and very hard to find if you don't live there, which is just as the locals prefer).
