The Northern Redwoods, part 2

Day 2 (continued)

As night set in, we didn't feel quite ready to quit our journeying, so we headed into the town of Trinidad. At first appearance a small town with little more than a Chevron station and a quick mart, a few blocks in, quaint houses and criss-crossing streets revealed a charming seaside town. Still, two minutes of driving got us through all of it, which was fine, as our final destination for the day was the water. Trinidad is regarded as among the finest sections of California seashore for combing tide pools—a favorite pass-time of my mother's. Pulling into Trinidad State Beach, we found ourselves looking down on a tucked-away, rocky Neverland. With enormous rock outcroppings looming out of the water, smaller ones scattered among the waves, and many nooks and crannies created in-between, the beaches in and around Trinidad (we also went to two just south of town) crawl with surfers, scenery-admirers, and thinkers. As the sky turned that lavendar hue it gets just before going black, a lighthouse winked at me from some distant point of land, and I thought I might just sit in this chilly night-time scene for a very long time. I'm quite sure it will become one of those visual memories I keep for life.

Day 3
Jedidiah Smith Redwoods State Park is the most northern section of California's Redwood forest. Driving north almost to Oregon, you can enter the park from Crescent City, a depressing little town that suffered at the hands of a tsunami back in the 1960s, and I have to imagine it never recovered. We stayed there only long enough to get a park map and directions to our first stop, Stout Grove. The day before, in Prairie Creek, we had entered the park on a smoothly paved road that led us from guided trail to guided trail. In Jedidiah, as soon as we turned onto the road, I knew we were in for a different experience. Once paved, the road surface is now rough and beaten, covered with a thin red glaze of dried Redwoods branches. Stout Grove is, in fact, the only stop on the road; the rest of the time, you glide slowly amidst massive trees that regularly encroach on the very pavement you'd like to roll your tires along. You can get out of the car anytime you want, but you can't enter the woods; you have to be content with being engulfed in them. I felt very deep in there, lost to the outside world, far from daylight (as the dense stand of 350+ foot trees blocks most of it) or from cities or even from time. It was magical.

Day 4
Driving home, we passed through the Humboldt Redwoods, traveling down the Avenue of the Giants for most of its 32 miles. I have to say that in comparison to the two Redwood parks I'd just seen, Humboldt truly does pale. But any Redwood is impressive, especially the fallen ones that seem to go on and on and on as you walk from root ball to tip. In Humboldt, some sort of calamity brought down a veritable fleet of massive Redwoods in one area. Some are so wide that, on their sides, they still stand two or three times as tall as me. Standing beside them feels like standing beside a grounded ship—its hull exposed, rising from the ground and looking like the whole thing should rock right on over. On some, crashing into a neighbor sent splinters up the wood, separating it into what looks like gaping hunks and shards of red flesh. On others, the ancient bark is beginning to roll off the fallen trunk and onto the ground—giving the impression of serpents slithering up the wood and then off. Needless to say, I enjoyed my brief visit to Humboldt and recommend that all of you venture into these beauties at some point!

I'll close by commenting that the drive south on 101 from Humboldt to about Santa Rose is absolutely beautiful. It's all farmland and wineries, hillsides covered in scrub oak and madrone and a variety of other decidious trees that seemed astonishingly petite and delicate after what I'd just seen. Passing through Healdsburg definitely put it next on my list of places to visit. And I'll be sure to report on that if I do!