Glass

Our recent vacation perambulation involved a couple nights in Fort Bragg on the Northern California coast. It seems a pretty modest place, reportedly benefitting from tourists who naturally crave the scenery and find the more-famous nearby Mendocino fully booked, too precious (or pricey), or otherwise not to their liking. We were intent on Mendocino area and settled on FB because it had more accommodation choices. Fort Bragg suited me fine.

Either in the course of ambling through the limited shops in town or reviewing guidebooks, I came across a reference or two to "Glass Beach," with subtext that the prized beach glass had origins in an old landfill. When a little research suggested said beach was only a decent walk from our pied a terre via relatively new trail exploiting former rail ROW, it seemed an appropriate afternoon expedition.

Okay, it wasn't a walk to swoon over. The high crossing of creek was great, but then it was mostly sidewalks in barely-inhabited subdivision.

Anyway, this was not supposed to be a hike description. We found Glass Beach, and indeed there were folks down there scrabbling for something in the intertidal area. "Beach" seemed a bit of a misnomer, however. The site at the end of the road was very scenic for sure, featuring stacks and kelp beds. And, yes, there were a few of what might be better termed "beach-ettes." We stumbled down the steep bluff to what seemed the most promising beachette, already conspicuously being foraged by a pair of folks equipped with a little more gear (trowel, etc.) than we had even conceived of.

Sure enough, even at first glimpse glass fragments were apparent at a much higher density than I have ever seen on a beach before. I guess I am more of a hanger-on than a principle in the glass search anyway. But I do make for a good enabler for those like Marg and Mara who, while perhaps not true devotees, are avid enthusiasts for this.

But here's the thing, at least for me. While winnowing wonderfully polished glass shards out of the gravel, limited in our case to bare hands, I couldn't help but ponder the idea that I was adjacent to an indeterminate quantity of what amounted to solid waste possibly including hazardous materials. My career over the last couple decades has involved evaluating and hopefully cleaning up sites with some commonality to this tourist attraction. What is different in this case?

I know of a number of instances here in my home state where major moolah (millions) has been spent to either remove similar waste material and place it in a properly engineered landfill or attempt to sequester the debris and waste so it does not leach and erode into the aquatic environment. I favor that approach, finding a way to limit environmental impacts of nasty chemicals. In FB they brag (so to speak) about their beach-side dumps. It turns out that we saw only the most recent sea-side landfill, circa 1940's or so - there are two older ones that apparently feed a local mini-economy involving polished-glass jewelry and who-knows-what-else.

BTW, I did scrub energenetically several times and rinsed our gleanings similarly. But the experience does leave me in a state that combines puzzled, anxious, and amused. Bemused, bewildered, and bedazzled. But hopefully not in possession of anything like dangerous waste.