Wednesday May 13: After spending the night at Standish-Hickey State Park on California Highway 101, we arrive in the mid-afternoon at the home of our friends, Kate and Randall.
We are spending time at their lovely home as their guests, as well as for the business of Carnicom Institute, as Kate has been an important member of CI staff for several years. After we get settled into their sweet guest cottage, Kate, Clifford, and I take a walk through the neighborhood; I marvel at the great old trees and the abundance of blooming shrubs and colorful flowers.
Thursday May 14: Kate comes over to visit with us before she leaves for a morning teaching gig. She and I do some yoga stretches; she knows many poses and it feels good to stretch and relax tense muscles. When she returns home, we all pile into their car and head to the ocean. At Bodega Bay we have a delicious lunch of clam sandwiches at a little café with outdoor seating. From where we sit, we can see a myriad of fishing boats in the inlet and sea gulls drifting about. Talk about ambiance!
Then we head on out to Bodega Head and I am delighted to see the great expanse of ocean, stretching away like infinity, and a rugged coastline with ice plants and poppies blooming on the bluffs.
We walk along the edge of the bluff, high above the ocean, and watch the waves crash against rocks out from the shore before they race on toward the rocky shoreline. The men saw a whale, and perhaps I caught a glimpse, but nothing like a tall spout of water or a huge tail.
There is a trail down to a beach, a span of sand between the rocky bluffs and sheer cliff walls, but it is too late in the afternoon to make the trek down, as we have a call scheduled with staff members of the institute.
We pose for photos before heading back to their home.
It was a lovely day to be at the ocean; I wish we could have stayed longer.
After the call, we have a tasty chicken dinner with Kate; Randall has gone to a class. I download and edit photos while Kate and Clifford watch music videos. When she begins to play the harp and sing, I leave my computer to listen, as she has a most lovely voice; if she is not Irish, she at least has the soul of a Celtic ballad-songster.
Friday May 15:After breakfast we – Kate, Clifford, and I – sit on their back deck, which overlooks a lovely back area of lawn surrounded by flowering trees and flower beds. Roses and rhododendron are especially lush and colorful.
Kate and Clifford work on a CI project while I take care of the CI email. When Kate learns that our Blazer has developed an oil leak, she takes things in hand and finds a mechanic who will, on short notice, take a look at it. While the mechanic looks at the Blazer, we three go to a nearby specialty pizza place for lunch. By the time we are done with lunch, not only did the mechanic diagnose the cause of the leak, but he has repaired the Blazer and it is good-to-go. Boy, are we lucky and relieved, thanks to Kate for finding us the right guy at the right time.
Back at the home of our gracious hosts, we go over to the guest house while Kate and Randall have the evening to themselves. Clifford continues with his studies, while I complete and post blogs of our time in Oregon on Paulina Creek and catch up on email.
About 10:00 p.m., Kate comes over. I thought she and Randall had already gone to bed, but she has some thoughts she wants to share with us, both in regard to changes in her life as well as her work with Carnicom Institute. Before we know it, it is midnight, but instead of going to bed, we make quesadillas and tea, and continue with our discussions until 1:30 a.m.
Saturday May 16: We are going out to Bodega Head again today, which pleases me very much. Along the winding road, we stop at a bakery to buy a couple loaves of delicious fresh bread, tour an organic garden lush with vegetables, and browse through a specialty shop carrying unique clothing and textiles (it would sure be fun to go in there with a couple hundred dollars to spend!), before arriving at Bodega Bay for another yummy clam lunch.
Today the Bodega Head parking lot is full and we park alongside the road a ways from the overlook. Many people are gathered there to watch the grey whales as they migrate from the lagoons of Baja California to the Arctic Ocean.
We cross the upward sloping bluff until we reach the path where we walked yesterday, but this time we go on to the trail that leads down to the beach. It is cold and windy along the ocean’s shore. Clifford and Kate hang out by a big rock in the sun out of the wind at the backside of the sandy beach, while Randall watches the waves, peacefully observant of all that is happening around us.
I am enchanted by the waves coming in, each one unique, some making a big splash as they crash playfully against the rocks of the rugged shoreline on either side of the sandy beach area. These big splashes are what I try to capture with my camera, but I miss more than I catch. Here’s where a DSLR would really outshine my otherwise very capable G1X point-&-shoot. Someone points out that a seal is frolicking in the waves just a ways off-shore. Perhaps I have his head in a photo or two. It is still the big crashing waves that command my attention.
I’d love to stay longer, mesmerized by the motion of the waves, but everyone else is ready to go, and we need time to prepare for the presentation that Clifford will be giving tonight – a synopsis of his 17 years of research into the health and environmental issues that are confronting all of us.
The presentation, beginning with a delicious potluck, is well-attended. Clifford’s talk is informative, detailing the course of his research from noticing aerosol spraying polluting the sky in 1998 to his current research into the health issues that many people are facing. This is followed by another hour of Q & A. People are concerned about what is happening to their health and to our planet. After the guests leave, Kate comes over to further the discussion; it is quite late by time we all head to bed.
It has been a very good visit – the enjoyment of spending time with friends doing fun stuff, as well as the accomplishments in regard to Carnicom Institute. Tomorrow we will be on our way; other views and venues await us.
This morning is our last morning at Elk Meadows Campground, as we are leaving Prairie Creek State Park and heading south to visit friends and take care of Carnicom Institute business. I take a photo of the creek that has been such a joy to me during our stay here. I would love to stay longer, but we must go.
After taking photos of us by the Pony (our pop-up) we pack up and are on our way by 11:00 a.m.
On our way out, I had hoped to talk Clifford into hiking the trail to the humongus redwood family that I saw yesterday, but he is anxious to get on the road. Good thing I took a few selfies yesterday with some of the big trees in the forests here.
We stop briefly at the Visitors’ Center in Orick and then continue the journey toward Sebastopol. We take the scenic highway through the “Avenue of the Giants” and, although we don’t stop to take photos, I am happy to see more of the old redwoods that live here. My mom and dad were here 25 years ago and it is interesting to think about them driving this road all those years ago and seeing what we are seeing today.
We catch glimpses of the slow-moving and now very low Eel River, but can’t get a photo of it until I ask Clifford to pull over when there is a safe place for us to do so. Although this river isn’t as lively as the Smith River further north, every river is important and I show my appreciation by taking photos, portraits if you will, of these special entities.
We consider camping at the furthest south campground along the “Avenue of the Giants,” but when we get there, we find that it is not open. Since we cannot take time to backtrack, we keep on going, our next destination being the Standish-Hickey State Park, arriving there in the late afternoon.This is the campground that had poor reviews because the more desirable loops along the river and away from highway are closed. We find a spot on the side of the open loop as far away from the highway as we can; I certainly understand why people complain. The closed loops are ever-so-much prettier and quieter. But we are fine, since it is just for the night.
We find a relatively level spot and do a modified set-up, which means that we don’t pull the extensions fully out. We don’t unpack anything and only have access to what’s in the back of the Blazer. It is not as convenient, but it saves a lot of time both tonight and in the morning, as there is almost no set-up or take-down involved. We use a camp stove and mess kit from the topper on the Blazer to cook soup and heat water for tea. I have enough wood to build a campfire and we enjoy a simple dinner sitting at the picnic table.
We do a little walkabout, noticing that there is a lot of poison oak here; I am fortunate not to have walked right through a patch of it at the backside of our spot before Clifford pointed it out to me. Whew – that could have been a bummer! Definitely not a good place for families to camp, as kids would surely get into it. Although the poison oak is abundant, there are also tall Douglas fir, madrone trees, lovely big oak trees, and a variety of shrubs that create a colorful backdrop to our campsite.
Wednesday May 13, 2015:
Take down is quick and easy, as planned, and we are soon on our way. We stop for lunch in Ukiah for lunch and gas, noticing how much warmer it is here, and arrive at our destination – Sebastopol – by mid-afternoon. I will always hold the redwoods of northern California in my heart, but new adventures and new sights await us.
Monday May 11, 2015: I go for my early morning walk, but instead of going along the path that I know, I go the other direction through the campground to see other sites that might be good when we come again, and I find a trail along Prairie Creek through the jungle there.
The trail comes out along Elk Meadows and I follow a hint of a dirt road along the meadow back to the campground. During this portion of our trip, this is the only time I see mist. Even though the redwoods are usually wet and misty, this has been an unusually dry spring with no rain and no mist in the forest
After breakfast, we drive out of the state park far enough to get cell service to check on emails and take care of any pressing needs for Carnicom Institute. Then back to the Newton-Drury Parkway where we again visit Big Tree. Clifford drops me off so I can walk back to camp, while he heads on back to return to his studies.
I am at first a bit uncomfortable walking alone in this forest because of the reports of mountain lion sightings in this area. However, as I go along, I become more comfortable with being here by myself, enjoying the deep silence, and admiring the trees.
As I walk, I see the most humongous “family” redwood, as I call those trees whose main trunk splits into two or more trunks as it continues its climb to reach the sky. This particular tree is like a family with grandma, the kids, the grandkids and even great-grandkids, as there were so many trunks coming from the one base. I wish Clifford was here to take a photo of me beside this great redwood family. How tiny I would have seemed next to it.
Once I reach the campground, I take the familiar trail through the redwood forest back toward our campsite, stopping to take selfies of myself with my favorite trees. Wish I had thought to do this with the big family back up the trail, but I have not been one to take selfies at all. I’m just doing it now to have photos of them in right perspective. I mean, these are not just big trees, they are BIG trees!
While here with the trees, I have become aware of my habitual tendency to walk slightly hunched forward, with eyes on the ground for sure footing. Being among these tall trees and looking up has encouraged me to stand and walk more upright.
Back at camp, I make one last campfire and after dinner pack up the kitchen stuff, as we will be leaving tomorrow morning. I will be sorry to leave this place with the creek at my front door (which is our only door) and being surrounded by trees and birdsong.
Saturday May 9: I wake up in the night thinking about ticks. Hmm… guess I should have taken a shower after our outing to Fern Canyon yesterday, but waking up in the night is not helpful. It is overcast this morning, which is not something we’ve seen much of on this trip, even though I had heard how foggy and overcast it would be on the coast. Well, the weather is not being “normal” anywhere, it seems, so who knows what to expect.
Today we are going to Eureka and Arcata to the south of Prairie Creek where we are camped. After showers and breakfast, we head out, stopping at a rest stop on the way, as I see one of those beautifully blooming bushes that I had never seen before arriving in California.
I later learn that it is a rhododendron, which I also learn has blossoms similar to azaleas, but the leaves are different. It is a very pretty drive down this curving highway with tall trees frequently obscuring our view of the ocean just to the west of us; lagoons and flowering shrubs add to the beauty of the landscape.
North of Arcata we stop at Clam Beach, as this is one of the hang-outs where Clifford lived part-time in his van for seven years while going to school at the College of the Redwoods and Humboldt State University in his late teens and early 20’s. He used to camp in the dunes for free, but now there are a couple fee-campgrounds. We walk out a ways into the vegetation-covered sand dunes so I can see the ocean and take a few photos.
We drive on through Eureka to Fields Landing, a small poor fishing village where Clifford would also park for free during those van/school years. The dirt lot where he used to park is now a day-use paved parking lot for folks coming in to launch their boats. Seeing these places after 40 years brings back a lot of memories for him. After Fields Landing, we find another spot off the highway near the College of the Redwoods. The dirt road down to the “secret” parking place in a clearing in the woods alongside the highway is now obscured with dense growth, as is the clearing, but he recognizes where it used to be. How things change over time!
At the College of the Redwoods, we walk around admiring the lovely campus: lawns, flowering trees, ponds, foot bridges, and flowers of all sorts grace the grounds around the attractive dorms and classroom buildings here.
What a great place to go to school! We go inside the building that houses the cafeteria where Clifford used to work washing dishes, and he recounts the experience of being there one evening when a friend of a friend streaked through, to the delight of the students who were witness to the event.
Then we head back to Eureka and out to Samoa, a jetty where the Samoa Cookhouse, once used to feed loggers, is now a popular spot for locals and tourists to have a good home-cooked meal served family-style. We sit at a long table covered with a red-and-white-checkered tablecloth. Big bowls of soup and salad and a platter of fresh bread are placed before us. This is followed with platters of potatoes and roast beef and a bowl of gravy. We finish off with a spice cake for dessert. To begin with I was a bit cautious because of my food allergies, but for the most part, everything sets well with my finicky digestive system. We both enjoy the plentiful food and the ambiance of the place, which is also a museum of sorts with photos and paraphernalia of the logging operations in the area, as well as photos of the loggers who used to eat at this very establishment. While it was a great time for the logging industry, photos of old-growth redwoods, with stumps big enough to become small dancing floors, lying dead on the ground are a source of sadness for me. I am so grateful that national and state agencies are now protecting most of the remaining old-growth forests so that I and others and those to come after us have the opportunity to stand in awe under these giants, some of whom are more than 2,000 years old.
After our hearty meal, a quick stop at Wells Fargo and a visit to the library in Eureka to check email, we head north to Arcata to buy a few groceries. Clifford wants to visit the plaza for more old memories and in the process we find a used bookstore. It is perfect for Clifford because of the college text books that he finds there on microbiology and organic chemistry. In a sudden rush of memory, I decide to see if I can find the book “Legacy of Luna” by Julia Butterfly Hill and am pleased that there are several like-new copies at the used book price. I don’t know much of the story of Luna and Julia, but recall that it takes place in the redwoods, or more precisely in a redwood called Luna. Right now is the perfect time for me to read this book. I take my purchase to a chair and begin reading while Clifford continues his search for text books that will aid him in his research.
On the way back to camp we stop to take photos of the elk in the meadow adjacent to the campground. It is getting late and they are already bedded down, but I take a photo, anyway.
When we get back to the Pony (our pop-up tent trailer) my intention is to download photos, but I read instead and continue reading long after Clifford goes to bed. I am quite taken with Julia’s courageous adventure, especially being here surrounded by the magnificent redwoods that she was trying to save.
Wednesday May 6: Today we start packing as soon as we are up, as we are headed south from our campground at Panther Flat to Prairie Creek Redwood State Park. We say good bye to our host, Jeff, and his wife, JoAn. They have been especially friendly and helpful. I say good-bye, also, to the trees and shrubs at Panther Flat and to the Smith River, which has beguiled me with its beauty.
We enjoy a beautiful winding-road drive with occasional glimpses of the ocean until we reach Elk Prairie Campground.
Quite a beautiful place: old-growth redwoods, Douglas fir, a few western hemlock, and Sitka spruce stand tall and majestic. Big-leaf maple also tower above the puny humans camped beneath their boughs.
A variety of shorter trees, shrubs, ferns and grasses make this forest more like a jungle where there are no trails. Prairie Creek runs through the campground.
Alongside the campground is a large meadow where the Roosevelt elk graze and bed down, giving the campground its name.
Now to find the right spot. I want to be by the creek and there are very few campsites that have a view of the creek. Clifford wants sun so the solar panels can charge the battery. We compromise on a beautiful spot that is right on the creek, but too small to fit comfortably.
In spite of the “help” from the camp hosts, Clifford gets the Pony (pop-up tent trailer) angled in so that the door faces the creek and we are off the road. It takes a bit more work to get leveled and set-up, but in the end it is worth it, as we have a private spot by the clear water of Prairie Creek, surrounded by amazing trees, and sunlight on the panels.
“Go With the Flow” was the suggestion from the Sacred Geometry cards before this road trip began, and that has become my mantra. Sometimes it has been a challenge to keep it in the forefront of my mind, but certainly helpful today as we found our spot and got set up. So many times on this road trip “Go With the Flow” has kept me from becoming upset and anxious. Of course, I have heard this and versions of it most of my life, but implementing it on a day-by-day basis is the real trick to having it make a difference.
In the early evening we walk the path through the woods to the Visitors’ Center at the other end of the campground. The trees are a constant wonderment.
It is nearly dark and getting chilly by time we get back to our camp. We sit outside to look at the stars and listen to the creek. Feels like it will be cooler tonight. What a wonderful place to spend the next few days!!!
Thursday May 7: It was 37 degrees last night, a good excuse to make a campfire this morning. I have a cup of organic French press coffee as I write in my journal. I admire the morning light on the creek in front of me and the alder grove on across the creek. Sunlight filters through the tall trees of the camp, and the sky is a beautiful blue – so great to see.
After breakfast we head to Orick, the nearest town to our campground, so we can check our email and phone messages. Then we drive out to the Visitors’ Center to see what books they carry, get information about camping further south, buy a couple post cards to send to family and friends, and get quarters for the showers at the campground. We walk out to the ocean shore, but the sandy beach doesn’t offer many photo opps, especially with the wind blowing so hard that I fear for the safety of my camera lens.
Back in Orick we buy gas at the only gas pump in town, a 40-year-old relic that still works. Then we drive out to the Lady Bird Johnson grove and do a walkabout. This old-growth forest of redwoods and Douglas fir was dedicated in 1968 to Lady Bird Johnson for her efforts to preserve the natural beauty of this country. A brochure that we pick up at the beginning of the trail describes the environment , the history of the area, as well as information about the life cycles of the plants and trees that grow here, including the hardiness of the redwoods. It is obvious that the old growth trees have all survived a forest fire, as they are all blackened and wounded, but they still live. In some cases, the lower portions of their great cores are burned out, creating caves so large enough that a person could set up house in them, kind of hobbit-like.
On the way back to camp, we stop to look at a herd of Roosevelt elk, but they are not in a posing mode. However, it is still fun to see them and be glad that they are thriving after nearing extinction.
Clifford takes a nap after a late lunch while I make another campfire, a must if I am to sit outside in the chilly afternoon, and write in the journal. Personally, I prefer this cool weather and am grateful not to have to cope with the heat. Just before we left Idaho, I overheard someone saying that it was over 100 degrees in California, so I took some of my cool-weather clothes out of my duffle bag and replaced them with warm-weather clothes…. Well, so far, I would have been better off to have left things as they were, but next time I will inquire what part of California is hot, as the northern coast certainly is not. Except for the extreme wind right off the ocean, I am liking the weather here. So glad to be here with the cool breeze, and where I am surrounded by and can walk amongst wondrously tall trees. I am loving northern California!
Saturday May 2:This morning, after my campfire, coffee, and journal, Jeff, our camp host extraordinaire, comes by to show us the secret path to the local Darlingtonias. Jeff is a natural when it comes to being a tour guide and he makes this outing into an adventure. Clifford, Nigel, and I follow him through the woods to find the community of California Pitcher Plants. He even points out angles where we can take the best photos to include ferns for a more dramatic setting.
As I take photos of the irresistible wild iris on the way back to the campground, we learn more from Jeff, who has a wealth of knowledge of the history and geography of this area.
Clifford and I are going to the Battery Point Lighthouse today, so we head to Crescent City after our woods adventure. This lighthouse, built in 1856, served an invaluable purpose for over a hundred years, alerting ships to the rocky coast until it was decommissioned in 1965.
Nowadays digital instruments have taken over the job of most lighthouses, which are now closed down, but Battery Point was reactivated in 1982 as a private aid to navigation and has been converted into a museum. The tour is very interesting as we learn of the early lighthouse keepers and see some of the original furnishings of this building, which was also home to the lighthouse keepers and their families.
Our tour takes us all the way to the top, where we go carefully up a narrow winding staircase to the lighthouse tower with a 360 degree view of the surroundings.
To the east is the town of Crescent City; looking out another direction we can see the harbor where ships can safely come into port, and along the coast the other direction and toward the ocean, we see the great rocks that were (and are) such a danger to ships.
On the drive home we take Howland Hill Road recommended by Jeff, since this dirt/gravel road traverses the jointly shared Redwood National Park and the Jedediah Smith Redwood State Park. The redwood trees are totally awesome, but it is too late in the day to stop for many photos.
We will be seeing other redwoods before the journey’s end, so I enjoy the drive, window down, exclaiming over the size of these giants as we drive through the forest.
Sunday May 3: Today is a stay-at-camp day. I go for a walk in the woods to take more photos of the Darlingtonias and, of course, the lovely wild iris and the rhododendron (or is it azalea?) before making a campfire and a French press.
Nigel, the young man on his spring break from college, comes by and we chat for a bit. After breakfast, while wood-gleaning I stop at the host site to say “hi” to Jeff and his wife, JoAn. Since we have power (sun on the solar panels) today, I am able to download and look at the photos I have taken over the last several days. And since my cell phone works here at Panther Flat, I call my daughter, Becka, who is moving to Georgia, and check email on the phone. We take showers and are feeling quite spiffy and civilized.
A hike down to visit the river rounds out the day for us.
Monday May 4:It is cloudy this morning, so we sleep in a bit. I skip my flower-photo walkabout and make a campfire right away so as to have some quiet time before starting breakfast.
Today is another stay-at-camp day, which is fine with me, as it gives the vata nature a chance to settle before we start on the next long leg of our journey.
I have been collecting postcards as we travel, so have a stack to write and send to family and friends.
While I write, Clifford continues his research. How many people go camping with three tubs of technical books such microbiology and spectroscopy? Well, Clifford does and as he studies he takes notes, filling several spiral notebooks. This is all in connection to the Carnicom Institute, his health and environmental research non-profit organization.
In the afternoon, as the skies clear, I walk down to the river. It is now too sunny for much photo-taking, but I take time to sit on a boulder by the river, glad to be alive, glad to be here.
Tuesday May 5: It is 40 degrees and clear this morning, a bit chilly, but so lovely. I love being here and am a bit sad that today is our last day camped here at Panther Flat. I make a campfire, enjoy my coffee, take a few photos with the cell phone to share this place with others, and admire the trees. At the Rocky Mountain Summer Intensive Photography School that I attended in 1995, one of the suggestions was to take a photo of what makes you happy: that day I photographed the silhouette of tree branches against a beautiful blue sky, and I do so again today.
We are going to Crescent City today in preparation for leaving tomorrow. It is better to take care of errands today and focus on the traveling tomorrow. After getting propane, gas, groceries, and sundries, we drive out to Pebble Beach on the outskirts of town. Pebble beach is not exactly pebbles and is so windy I can’t stand still enough to take photos except by shooting through the open window of the Blazer. However, it is still mesmerizing – the waves coming in and smashing themselves against the jagged rocks, over and over and over. It seems as though they delight in their powerful playfulness.
Back at camp, even though it is getting kind of late, I call my mom. Today would have been my parents’ 70th anniversary, although my dad has been gone for nearly twenty years. I am so grateful that my mom is still here and part of the lives of her children, grand and great-grandchildren. What a blessing she is to all of us. May I be such a blessing to all those who know me and those who come after me.
Friday May 1: I begin the day with a campfire, a cup of coffee, and journal writing.This is my precious QT – quiet time – a time before talking begins, a time of being before doing takes over for the day.
It is windy this morning and as I sit by the fire (well-contained in deep metal firepits), I gaze up at the tall Douglas fir and youngish redwoods as they do their slow graceful dance to the wind-music. As I walk about the camp, the iris are are also doing their little dances, which makes it challenging to take their portraits.
After breakfast, we drive up the highway to the Darlingtonia Interpretive Trail which we know about from Jeff, the camp host, who gave us the flyer as well as the insider information that these rare plants can also be found not far from the campground. Maybe I will be able to find the local ones, but in the meantime, the botanical area will be a good outing for us. Jeff shows me an unusual plant right at their site. Perhaps related to a mushroom, this plant was about six to seven inches tall and not like anything I’ve ever seen before.
We park at the trail head and walk a short ways to a swampy area where hundreds of these ancient-looking plants, also known as California Pitcher Plants, grow en masse. They remind me of giant Venus fly-traps – the neat little plants that I would buy as a kid, even though they never seemed to catch a fly and didn’t survive for long. The head of a Darlingtonia is designed to trap insects; decayed remains of the insect provides nourishment to the plant.
It is easy to imagine a swamp dinosaur browsing here. The Darlingtonias are not at the height of their blossom period, but we do see a few blossoms here and there.
We continue the walk learning of other flowers and trees in this area, including Port Oxford Cedar, Jeffrey Pine, orchids, azaleas, and several other flowers and shrubs. The Darlingtonians are thriving here, but are quite rare. I have to wonder how long these swamp-loving plants will survive the California drought.
When we get back to the campground, I go off to gather twigs for tomorrow’s fire and when I get back to our campsite, Nigel, the young man who is camped down a couple spots from us, is talking with Cllifford. He is an interesting fellow, having some of the same interests as we do, such as camping and photography, and going to school not far from where one of Clifford’s brothers live. We chat for a bit before Clifford and I head down to the river.
Today we are going swimming at the beach that we found the first day. What this means is that Clifford is going swimming while I take photos and wade in the shallow water at the river’s bank.
Although I find the water too cold to be comfortable, Clifford cajoles me into getting in deeper. It is a a refreshing but short-lived moment. This afternoon the river seems especially rich in color, that delicious shade of aqua, and crystal clear as always.
As we look at the map and review our travel schedule, we decide to not go to Yosemite as planned, but instead go east and north from Sebastopol. The timing as well as the expense of traveling are the deciding factors. We will be staying with friends in Sebastopol in connection with the Institute, so that is an important portion of the journey, but also a good turning point. I am disappointed that we won’t see Yosemite on this journey, but understand the need to make this change in plans. I am still looking forward to the giant redwoods and seeing the ocean, however.
We finish our day with nachos and more crossword puzzles. One of these days I am going to switch to photo editing during dinner instead of the puzzles, but not today.
Thursday April 30: We are up before 8:00 this morning. The odd thing is that I seldom know what time it is, what time we get up, what time we eat, or what time we go to bed. This morning, after a short walkabout to visit flower-friends, I make a campfire, not really because it is cold enough to need it, but because I enjoy it.
My friends Ken and Shelley Anne who have been so supportive over the preceding challenging months are on my mind. I give them a call, thinking I will get voice mail and am pleased to talk to Shelley Anne in person for a few minutes.
Once the coastal redwoods covered 2 million acres of land, mostly in California, but due to logging in the late 1800’s to the 1920’s, only about 100,000 acres of ancient redwood forests remain. Today we drive to Stouts Grove near the beginning of Howland Hill Road (or end, depending on which way one is traveling). This is an old-growth grove in what is now Redwood National Park and Jedediah Smith State Park, a co-operative effort on the part of national and state agencies to preserve what remains of the old-growth forests. What a loss it would be to both the natural world and the civilizations of the world to not have the redwoods. These ancient giants deserve our very best efforts to preserve them for their invaluable role in the ecology of the planet, as well as to inspire all those who gaze upward toward their lofty heights. We today are most fortunate that efforts have been made to preserve these remaining great trees.
Redwoods may reach a height of 370 feet tall and may be as much as 20 feet in diameter. They can live to be 2,000 years old, although many are merely 500 to 700 years old. I am in awe of them as I walk the trail. The tops cannot be seen by looking up; it is like trying to look at a mountain peak when standing at the base of the mountain where one can see only the foothills. Photos do not do justice to their majestic size unless a tiny human is included in the photo.
We have learned something of their growth patterns that allows these great trees to survive. Bulbous outgrowths hold the potential to grow new trees out of the old – like a fetus waiting to grow and be born as a baby. Some redwoods grow in a tight cluster from one root system, their strength supporting each other. Thick bark protects them from insect injury and even damage from fire. Many of these old trees, still living, bear the scars of severe forest fires.
Not only are the trees wonderful, but the ferns and shamrocks are lush, adding color and texture to the scene.
Back at the campground, I take the trail down to the Smith River and find a place where I can take photos of some of the rapids along this stretch. I am drawn to the beautiful clear aqua water of this lively river.
We have nachos for dinner and do crossword puzzles, which are both addictive and annoying. One of these days I am going to not do the crosswords with dinner. But tonight I do crosswords until I can’t stand doing another one. I go to bed thinking not of crosswords, however, but of great tall wonderful trees.
Tuesday April 28: When I step out the door I am struck by the smell of fresh clean air. I take the G12 (Canon point & shoot), since it takes good macro shots and head out to take photos of flowers around the campground. There are a variety of flowering shrubs and several flowers; most notable are the rhododendron or azelea and wild iris in shades of lavender to white. I take lots and lots of photos because I can’t resist these delicate little beauties.
Back at camp I make a campfire, the morning cup of coffee (organic, with organic honey and organic coconut milk), write in my journal, look at our map of California, and read through the material with area information that will be of interest to us. Jeff, our host extraordinaire, gave us the handouts as well as pointing out a route, the Howland Hill Road, we might want to take back from Crescent City through the redwood forest of the Jedediah Smith State Park and the Stout grove. This is a road we will not want to miss, he tells us.
Much of my day, most days, is spent with cooking, eating, and cleaning up, in addition to wood-gathering and fire-tending. As I’m gleaning wood from the forest, which is allowed here, I visit Jeff and his quiet wife, JoAn. Jeff is bursting with a wealth of experience and information, shared always with his quirky sense of humor. JoAn is his opposite, so quiet that I am honored that she and I have a conversation.
As I walk through the forest, I find the very tall madrone trees with their sensuously smooth and curvy branches to be quite interesting. The outer bark peels off to reveal an inner skin, smooth and firm like the taut thigh of a dancer in yummy shades of golden to reddish-orange color.
We are fortunate that my cell phone has service here so I can check email briefly and Clifford can make business calls from the campground. One important call involves the Carnicom Institute: the IRB for the Morgellon’s Research Project is nearly in place.
Later we go down to the river for another walk-about. We have learned that this is the only river in California in its natural state, i.e. no dams or diversions. Perhaps this accounts for its incredible clarity while the aqua color comes from the mineral serpentine in the rock cliffs that rise up from the river bed.
After dinner I put Velcro on the sheets and sleeping bag – my attempt to keep our sheet liner in place, while Clifford falls asleep sitting up. Once the Velcro and the sheets are in place, we head to bed.
Wednesday April 29:I make a campfire when I get up. I love being outside and it is a bit too chilly to just sit without the fire. As usual, coffee and journal completes the picture for me.
Today we go to Crescent City for errands: laundromat, groceries, information at the Forest Service office, and sundries. While we are at the laundromat, Clifford makes another business call and I walk to a nearby natural food store. It is small and pricey, but I am happy to get a few organic veges into the diet.
After the errands, we go for a drive along the ocean on the outskirts of Crescent City, stopping at a vantage point for photos. I am quite enthralled with the waves that come crashing against the rugged rocks of the coast here. It is so windy, however, that I have to sit in the car and shoot through the window.
Noticing a lighthouse, we check it out. It is not open right now, but we will be able to visit it another day, since it is now a museum.
We go to Denny’s for lunch before heading back to camp, stopping a couple of times to take photos of the lively Smith River in the gorge below the highway.
It is too late to take the Howland Hill Road through the redwoods back to camp, so that is something to look forward to for another day.
Sunday April 26: Some of our homes on the road have been hard to leave, but we are eager to say good-bye to civilization, even with its conveniences, and get back to our journey. The brief stays in Sunriver and Ashland were important layovers, both in terms of the connections that were made as well as the increased awareness of environmental issues for those who come to hear Clifford speak. We are grateful for the individuals and groups who invited us to be with them on our route through Oregon. But the trees and the rivers and the oceans beckon us and onward we go.
I make tea for the to-go cups and take cheese, crackers, and apples out of the cooler for us to eat as we travel rather than taking time for breakfast this morning. Doesn’t take us long to get the Pony (our pop-up tent trailer) ready for the road since we had just done a modified setup yesterday and we are soon on the road. We head to Grants Pass, taking the slower scenic highway along the Rogue River. It is a lovely drive, lots of trees of all sorts, many of them in bloom.
After we reach Grants Pass, we head southwest on highway 99 toward Crescent City, California. I think about my friend, Cyril, who lives in Grants Pass, but since we didn’t know when we would get here, I didn’t try to make connections. I hope he is well and happy.
We catch glimpses of the Smith River in the ravine below as the road becomes more narrow and winding. Lush vegetation carpets the slopes of the hillsides around us.
We arrive at our forest service campground, Panther Flat, mid-afternoon and pick a site on the side of the loop nearest the river below and furthest from the highway. The sites here are well-spaced and there is an abundance of shrubs and small trees amidst the towering Douglas fir, tall straight not-giant redwoods – a mere 100 feet tall, and sensuous madrone trees.
Once we are set up, I explore a trail from our campsite, making my way to the river below and after awhile Clifford joins me. We find a charming gravel beach right on the river’s edge. I am amazed at how crystal-clear the beautiful aqua-hued water is.
From this little gravel beach I can see cascades both up and downstream as this lively river cuts its way through rock walls, creating the gorge where we now stand.
We are told by our camp host extraordinaire, Jeff, that it is the only river in California that has not been dammed or diverted. He points out a much better trail leading from the end of the loop not far from our site down to the river. This is a trail I will traverse many times over the next several days as I come down from the campsite to visit Mr. Smith.
Back at camp, we are happy to discover that our cell phones work here; I call Mom to let her know where we are. Clifford sprays more bleach to get rid of mildew spots; I should have stayed outside to let it air out much longer than I did, as I end up feeling quite ill from breathing the residue of the bleach as I set up the inside. When I go to bed, I open the zipper to the window next to my head and breathe in fresh air with the hopes that I will feel better in the morning.
Monday April 27:My head is still buzzy this morning, but a whole lot better than last night. After an exploratory walk about camp, enjoying the light filtering through the trees and photographing the wild flowers – wild iris and others that I don’t recognize, I make campfire and a French press coffee.
Sitting at the campfire, I plan to write in my journal, but instead I spend this quiet time looking up at the wonderful tall trees that surround us.
I feel blessed by the trees as I gaze up at them. Reminds me of what a wise woman recently said to me: it is often when we are down – through illness or other hardship – that we look up to God or Presence or whatever one wants to call that deeper sense of the Life Force, but I realize as I gaze upward that such awareness does not have to come through illness or hardship, but through being in awe of nature or beauty or whatever will bring us to that deeper appreciation of life.
After breakfast, I begin reorganizing everything in the Pony and the Blazer: clothing, food, dishes, and so on, incorporating another set of light-weight stackable drawers. What a difference this makes. I know where everything is once again.
While I do my domestic nesting activity, Clifford continues his research and study.
It gets quite warm this afternoon – near 80 degrees – which is quite a change from the cool weather we’ve had for the most part up to this point. We go to the nearby small village of Gasquet to get ice, as we are going to need it. After we return to the camp, we take the trail to the river and explore up and down its banks. Sitting on a boulder by the bank, I watch the slow graceful dance of the trees as they sway in the wind.
What a delightful place we have found. I am so grateful to be here, grateful for the trees, the river, the pleasant weather, the pleasing campground, the comfortable bed. Tonight I sleep well.