There’s a particular kind of satisfaction I get when standing exactly where something happened — not “somewhere nearby,” but on the very spot where a treaty was signed, a prospector struck gold, a trail was first blazed, or a plan became reality. California’s historic markers do the heavy lifting for us: they pin memory to place and turn abstract dates and names into sites you can visit, touch, and feel under your hiking boots. All you have to do is follow the coordinates, read the words, and let the ground tell the story.
Remembering Our Past
The movement to memorialize California’s past began with small, determined groups — local clubs, editors, and preservationists who refused to let our historic places vanish unnoticed. Civic organizations such as the Native Sons of the Golden West, the Native Daughters of the Golden West, and E Clampus Vitus played significant roles in installing markers and keeping local memory alive. By the early 1900s, those grassroots efforts had formal organization, and the idea that communities should mark their stories gained momentum across the state.
The program moved into official hands in the 1930s. State legislation empowered agencies to register and mark places of historical interest and to put road signs in the field so travelers could actually find them. The earliest official lists focused on obvious touchstones — missions, battle sites, Gold Rush towns — and civic groups began placing bronze and stone markers all across the map. Unfortunately, enthusiasm produced quantity, and quantity exposed problems: early designations were sometimes thin on documentation or overly reliant on local lore. Mid-century reforms tightened the process: a state advisory body was created and, by the 1960s, clear criteria were adopted so that only sites with demonstrable regional or statewide significance would earn state landmark status.
California built formal preservation capacity over time. In the 1950s, the state created a history unit within what is now California State Parks. Later, after the federal National Historic Preservation Act of 1966 prompted states to organize, California established a dedicated Office of Historic Preservation in the mid-1970s. The OHP’s job is practical: coordinate statewide surveys, help prepare preservation plans, and carry out the federal and state requirements that keep the landmark program organized and accountable.
The program kept evolving: trail and route markers were given satellite designations, architectural significance was added as a category, and the advisory body grew into the State Historical Resources Commission with a multidisciplinary roster. What began as a small, hopeful project now numbers well over a thousand registered sites, and the program continues to adapt as new histories and voices are added.
A Personal Journey
For me, it all began on a school-day pilgrimage. In Southern California, at least in the Capistrano Unified School District, every fourth grader takes part in a field trip to California Historical Landmark No. 200, Mission San Juan Capistrano. That excursion implanted a lifelong curiosity about place and story. Since then, I’ve chased plaques and landmarks to all five corners of the state, and the time spent in the field (sometimes LITERALLY in the field) means the entries are pretty reliable, searchable, and respectful of the communities where shadows of history grow longer as the sun sets on them.
This project began as mere curiosity: I wanted to stand at the actual place a plaque described, not have the story come from dried ink in a musty library textbook; I wanted technicolor, not black and white. Over the intervening decades, the query became a coffee-fueled, diner-fed, full-blown adventure; I drove state highways, county lanes, fire roads, and single-track dirt trails precariously close to steep dropoffs, verified coordinates in the field, touched the markers, and even dug into county ledgers when plaques were missing or unclear. I leaned on archivists and sometimes even sat on porches or park benches with locals to confirm facts and gather background. The workload grew until a single volume wouldn’t hold it all; splitting the material into three regionally focused guides kept each book manageable and road-ready.
The Books
This is not a catalog of trivia. It’s a county-focused companion to the state’s recorded memory. The Northern, Central, and Southern volumes together document roughly 1,120 California Historical Landmarks, organized so an adventurer can plan a day trip or a more extended pilgrimage. Every listing includes the official California Historical Landmark (CHL) number, an address when available, GPS coordinates recorded on-site, a concise background description that places the site in context, and the plaque text — if there is one.
Northern California (365 landmarks in 28 counties) feels like two worlds braided together: the deep, cathedral hush of redwood forests and the raw, bright bustle of Gold Rush towns that still wear their nineteenth-century bones.
Geography here ranges from the misty Del Norte coast and Humboldt’s redwood groves to Sacramento’s civic heart and the jagged Sierra foothills. Vineyards, volcanic plateaus, alpine lakes, and old stage routes all still carry stories.
This is where statehood and early infrastructure took shape: mountain passes funneled settlers, rail yards stitched communities together, and ports sent California produce and timber to the world. You’ll find traces of ancient indigenous villages, Spanish expedition routes, preserved mining camps, train depots, and the storefronts of lumber towns that once hummed with industry.
Central California (372 landmarks across 20 counties) is the state’s heartland. Where coastlines meet crops, missions meet mountains, and history is deeply layered into the land. The region is a living crossroads: farms and orchards feed cities, rail depots move people and goods, and aqueducts remake whole valleys. This is where you’ll find the handshake of land and labor, from mission plazas and adobe streets to the boom-and-bust traces of oil and mining.
The territory meanders from coastal towns like Monterey and Santa Cruz, through rich agricultural tracts that feed the world, and into mountain communities such as Inyo, Mariposa, and Tuolumne. Its landmarks record a range of stories: forts and missions, canals and aqueducts, train depots, courthouses, airfields, Dust Bowl homesteads, and even the darker history of California’s Japanese internment sites. These places mark growth and reinvention; the state maturing, industry taking root, and communities building the infrastructure that has shaped modern California.
Southern California (383 landmarks stretching across all 10 counties) is a landscape where contrasts collide: desert meets ocean, mountains rise above sprawling cities, and history runs the gamut from mission bells to movie sets. This is a place of innovation and ambition: presidios and ranchos stand beside freeways and advanced aerospace runways. Neighborhoods once built for citrus and oil have been reshaped by film, defense, and tourism. The region’s landmarks show a pattern of constant change; adaptation, invention, and the clashes of cultures and industries whose ripples define modern California.
This edition covers landmarks across the counties I am most familiar with: Imperial, Kern, Los Angeles, Orange, Riverside, San Bernardino, San Diego, San Luis Obispo, Santa Barbara, and Ventura counties. Within these borders, you’ll find everything from adobe ranch houses and mission churches to military installations and World War II training sites. Historic aqueducts move water across deserts and deliver it to neighborhoods central to cultural movements. Each marker preserves a facet of a complex, ever-changing regional jewel.
The Total of All Landmarks
From the Custom House in Monterey (CHL No. 1) to the Palace of Fine Arts in San Francisco’s Marina District (CHL No. 1064), there are over 1120 historic sites in California. Why the discrepancy between 1,064 and 1,120? Some sites share a CHL number—like the Japanese Internment Camps (CHL No. 934), which have 12 distinct sites. One site plaque is even misnumbered! There are sites throughout the state for every interest—enough to fuel your spirit of exploration for years.
It is unfortunate, but not every registered site still carries its original plaque. Theft, construction, neglect, and relocation have removed or obscured many markers. We have recently lost landmarks to the Eaton and Palisades fires. In Chico, the Bidwell Mansion (CHL No. 329) was destroyed by an arson fire. Some landmarks have no notation, plaque, or monument at all. I recommend that, if you encounter a damaged or stolen marker, you document it with a photo and GPS coordinates, and report it to the California State or local historical office. Those simple acts matter: they’re how a community ensures its place in the history of the Golden State.
About the Books
California’s history is intricately woven into its landscape. These volumes are a map to that glorious tapestry—tools for discovery, stewardship, and quiet wonder. The three books are available individually on Amazon as paperbacks and ebooks; begin with the region closest to you and see where the adventure leads from that first ‘find.’
Books are available through Amazon here:
Paperback: Exploring California’s Historic Landmarks – A GPS Guide to the Golden State’s Legacy
Ebook: Exploring California’s Historic Landmarks – A GPS Guide to the Golden State’s Legacy
