Big Lagoon has hidden gems
Fat trout and great agate hunting make this rustic California park a treasure!
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Big Lagoon County Park in Northern California was Mike’s discovery from an online search, and at first, we weren’t enamored. Bumping down an overgrown, unpaved road with the Wanderlust Retro in tow, I had doubts about this latest campsite.
Clouds threatened rain overhead, adding pressure to the need to set up camp, but we were unable to get the trailer into the rough, muddy site Mike had reserved–it was too narrow. (We also didn't like the proximity to the lights and traffic of a nearby bathroom.)
The camp host, an energetic red-bearded young man who resembled a Viking wearing a tie-dyed shirt, kept a smile on his face and good cheer in his voice as he directed us to another spot, this one away from the facilities.
The parking process was still challenging and required a blast of four-wheel drive to get the Retro backed up over a large tree root and past a mud puddle. Once we were slotted in, the site was snug under trees with a large stump nearby to use as a table.
Be aware: if you go to Big Lagoon, be prepared for boondocking, rough campsites, and tight parking (tent camping would have been a lot better at this particular park.)
Once we finally got situated, we were grumpy from the stress of parking and setting up. We went our separate ways, Koa and I to explore the nearby beach and Mike to fish the big, as advertised, lagoon.
The charms of this rustic county park were revealed when Mike almost immediately hooked up a couple of nice fat native cutthroat trout.
Meanwhile, I took my e-bike to find the beach entrance, since a wetland began near the campsite and we couldn’t hike through the swamp. Koa galloped along beside me as I navigated a dirt road on the bike and eventually pulled up to a well-maintained day camping area alongside a huge expanse of pebble beach. A roaring, pounding shorebreak bracketed one side, and the peaceful, brackish lagoon on the other.
A lifelong beachcomber, I love nothing more than to wander the sand (or pebbles in this case) with my bare feet massaged by the beach. My gaze flows over it, searching for whatever interesting bits I could find.
The relationship I have with beachcombing goes all the way back to childhood when I helped Mom pick up puka shells on the beaches of Kauai in the 1970s. She strung and sold the shell necklaces to tourists at the public parks and I spent many happy hours on my knees, hunched over in the warm yellow sand of the North Shore of Kauai, combing through the coral grains for not just pukas, but sunrise shells, a multicolored clamshell much prized in Hawaii.
Later, as an adult, sea glass became my favorite thing to collect. When I travel, it’s a fun challenge to find a beach to comb, whether it’s on Maui, in Maine, or on Prince Edward Island in Canada. I fill jars with sea glass from all over the world and enjoy making crafts with what I bring home.
Anywhere with a beach is a place to find elusive pieces of history in the form of broken, ocean-polished glass that becomes precious through the polishing of sea and sand.
Mike told me that Big Lagoon was well known for agate collecting, and today I was eager to find one of these elusive stones. Northern California beaches, with their stunning variety of colored pebbles, had few shells and even fewer bits of sea glass to find…but maybe they had agates.
I headed down onto Big Lagoon’s massive beach, finally admitting to myself that had no clue what agates were or what they looked like. I couldn’t get enough bars on my phone to Google them, either.
But surely, with all the multicolored stones in piles around me, I’d know one when I saw one.
I walked down, close to the crashing, heavy surf, hoping that would improve my chances of finding an agate. I picked up a handful of pretty stones in a variety of colors that seemed unusual.
A couple of beer-toting men, beachcombing mostly with their toes, seemed to be looking for these treasures as well. I approached them, my finds on my open palm for inspection. “Are these agates?”
“We call those PNRs,” one of the men said, chuckling beer fumes into my face. “Pretty nice rocks.”
I laughed politely and turned away.
The other guy, taking pity on me, held out a small, translucent, extra shiny stone in a buff/gold color. The thing was hardly larger than a sunflower seed between his thumb and forefinger. “This is an agate. The only one we’ve found all day.”
I studied the itty-bitty specimen. “It’s not any prettier than the PNRs, really,” I said. “Why are agates considered special?”
“I guess it’s because they’re hard to find, first of all. The rarity thing. And the stone is denser than the other rocks on the beach, which makes them shiny. You can recognize them by how translucent they are. They seem to glow. You’ll definitely know one when you see it.”
I was a fan of any rock that “seemed to glow.” I thanked both men and walked off slowly, following the line of wet stones at the edge of the breaking surf.
I eventually went back to the trailer with a handful of PNRs and my prize, one tiny agate, that did indeed glow when I finally spotted it.
Mike met me with the trout he’d hooked out of the lagoon. We cooked a delicious dinner and ate it beside the water as the sun briefly pierced heavy clouds.
That night a storm rolled in; wind and rain pelted the trailer. As always when that happened, I lay in my dry, comfy bed in the Wanderlust Retro, grateful I wasn’t tent camping.
Seriously, one of the greatest joys of having a travel trailer is considering the alternative.
The next morning the woods were dripping and fog swirled over the park. Mike headed out to see if any more fish could be had; when he gave up, he joined me on the beach, and, united in our quest, we found another agate.
It’s not the agate so much as the quest for it, as you may have guessed. Being out on a beach, listening to the cry of seabirds and the thunder and shush of the waves, far from phones or screens, your bare feet sunk into massaging pebbles as you scan acres of multicolored stones for the one that glows even brighter…well, I highly recommend agate hunting as one of life’s finer pleasures.
Big Lagoon County Park has agates and fat trout swimming beside the campground waiting to be dinner. Doesn’t get better than that!
PNR, I like that. Like when I watch birds. Most are LBJs. Little brown jobs.
We were nearby recently (Su-meg state park) and I had one of my favorite days ever, just wandering the beach and picking up some PNR's. Northern CA beaches can be hard to get to in an RV but worth it. Love your descriptions.