Hugging big trees was the expressed wish of a Floridian friend, when we discussed a potential joint vacation. The palms of Florida aren’t exactly known for their massive trunks or the swath of shade they generate. Since I live in the Pacific Northwest, I immediately envisioned a trip to Redwoods National Park and perhaps other western national parks which are definitely beautifully draped out in extremely old and very large trees and extensive forests. Though I had no keen yearning to hug a big tree myself (especially those with slimy moss or sticky sap) , I mused that I could probably find a itinerary that would accommodate that wish and my desire to revisit some of the other national parks of the Pacific Northwest Region including Redwoods, Olympic National Park, Mt. Rainier, and Crater Lake, completing a big circle back to our starting point of Medford OR.

So after retrieving my friend and her luggage (which surprisingly arrived intact) at the Jackson County OR Airport, my mission at the moment was to head on down to Crescent City CA and the Oceanfront Lodge , our accommodation for three nights. My preference when traveling is to drive secondary roads ( isn’t there an old saying that the “the joy is in the journey” ) rather than what I find boring – the tedious frenetic interstate highways. This did not disappoint as, of note, enroute was the appearance of “Weed Man” offering free “weed” at the Oregon/California border. This was not about weed control (the kind you use on you lawn) nor a chance to buy legal weed since recreational marijuana is legal in both states, but a ploy to get travelers out of their automobiles to browse their flee market tables full of goods other people no longer wanted or needed. That ploy worked as my friend craved having her photo taken with the “Weed Dude” but definitely not to consume the weed itself. We definitely opted out of a shopping excursion.

As is quite often the case, coastal cities in the Pacific Northwest get fogged in and true to form we were greeted with a temperature of 54 degrees and a shroud of fog at the oceanfront location of the Crescent City Lodge, the home base for three nights.  The best part of this hotel was its seaside location and the awesome views, especially  when the fog was no longer a gauzy blanket over the Pacific. The  Battery Lighthouse was a  picturesque  part of the view and was within walking distance. My first order of “business” was to head down to the beach. Seeing no unencumbered path,  I laboriously inched my way down through the vegetation, driftwood,  and stones to scattered patches of sand. A rough rocky shore, previously  not a challenge, was definitely a safety hazard for my osteoporotic bones and my need to use a hiking stick to hopefully avoid any tripping rocks and catastrophic falls on my barely healed gluteus medius and gluteus  minimus muscles. With it being chilly and foggy, I was becoming more interested in filling my belly than beach combing on this unstable surface. 

So it was back to the somewhat “tired” and dated room, which  faced the ocean and sported a very weathered balcony and rather uncomfortable chairs.  But just the magical sound and breeze of the ocean made up for a lot that the accommodation lacked. Sleeping with the sliding glass door open to hear the waves was so calming.  Dinner was in the  small understaffed restaurant downstairs with passable, though clearly not of the gourmet variety food.  But the flavor was definitely enhanced by the expanse  of the  Pacific, viewed through the spacious windows of the dining room. 

We awoke to a brilliant blue sky and were eager to be out and about. The first stop was at the Crescent City harbor to hopefully catch a glimpse of the resident harbor seals before they were out and about foraging for the days banquet. I guess by seal standards we missed the “boat” as there were but four of five hanging out in the harbor. So shortly we were on to the National Park Office to map out a plan for the two days in Redwoods.

An expressed desire of my friend was to visit Trees of Mystery and according to their brochure is “California’s premier attraction on the North Coast.” This seemed a bit of an exaggeration and though I was skeptical, I was game to give it a chance. This is not the type of tourist attraction I typically frequent having been programmed very early by my mother to NOT visit any “tourist traps.” We kids were deprived of experiencing the Michigan wonders of the Mystery Spot, the Underground Forest, and Sea Shell City so gaudily and frequently advertised along the highways.

Upon driving up and being greeted by a massive talking Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox statues, I was even more skeptical as it looked mostly like a stop for kids and a bad attempt to copy a Disneyesque experience. But I was game as it advertised a canopy walk and gondola ride. Nevertheless, before we began, I felt compelled to have my picture take with Paul..

The first stop was the SkyTrail Gondola, a trip 1,570 feet up to the top of the mountain into the forest for an elevated view of the redwoods from the Ted’s Ridge Observation Deck as well as far-away views ( mostly obscured by overgrowth) of the Klamath Valley to the East and of the Pacific Ocean to the west. While I enjoyed the views, there were many spectacular scenic overlooks in Redwoods National Park along high 101 that are equally or more stunning, less crowded, and FREE. I found the gondola ride disappointing as it is not a glimpse of the canopy of giant redwoods, but rises through a hillside that appears to have been logged of redwoods years ago and overtaken by deciduous flora.

The biggest plus for me was to be the canopy walk which took us high into the redwoods through eight suspension bridges and ten platforms. To take in the sights, sounds and smells of NorCal’s world-famous redwoods would have been a noteworthy experience … except for the queue of people on my heals tromping across each bridge with nary a moment to take the surrounds in. These aerial netted suspension bridges perhaps 100 feet above the ground sway gently and BUT NOT so gently with the stomping and clomping of the rushers behind me who clearly were not in this to experience the grandeur of being high with nature doing what it does best – be awe inspiring – but perhaps to get a bit of an adrenaline rush with the swaying and rocking of the bridge structures. I was quite relieved not to be bowled over as I made my way across, teetering and tottering, by the swinging generated by the “trompers”. Nevertheless it was a fun experience.

I never quite figured out what the “Trees of Mystery” were. But I let my imagination run wild , searching for some wildlife. Good fortune was with me for I spotted numerous wild “creatures” sculpted by the forces of nature or perhaps by the axe of Paul Bunyans but definitely not of the living variety. Can you spot the giraffe, alligator, Paul”s girlfriend…..

Not to be a total “Debbie Downer,” I enjoyed my visit  but after about 1.5 hours I had had my fill and we were off to what was for me a real experience of redwood old growth trees on part of the Brown Creek Trail in the redwood forest of  Prairie Creek State park, arriving via a pleasant drive down the Newton B. Drury scenic Parkway. I had no desire or need for human entertainment extras.  

Choosing not to patronize the hotel restaurant and preferring to soak in the sea breezes from our balcony,  a stop at Safeway for our own “room service” offerings was in order. After a delightful day, I spent a quiet evening of  breathing the salty air, listening to the melody of the waves, mesmerized by the ebb and flow of the water  and captivated by reflections of the sun on the panorama before me. 

A visit to the Battery Point Island Lighthouse, a historical landmark,  the next day required being tuned into the tide charts as it was only at low tide when one could traverse the isthmus to the Lighthouse without wading through shifting sands, rocks  and the chilly chilly water. So we were out and about  around 7;30 am to catch the first low tide of the day. The harbor at Crescent City was booming during the mid-1800s due to massive redwood trees being harvested and loaded onto ships to build San Francisco and the US Government built a series of lighthouses along the coast.

Though I would have liked to tour this historic facility, after enjoying the quiet  of the early morning seascape, I was eager to be on the road. to the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park and explore the Stout  Memorial Grove and other notoriously  massive trees. Being rather clueless about how to get where I was going, the first stop ended up at the South Fork of the Smith River and the Jededhia Smith State Park Nature Trail, which definitely was a good destination to be lost in. From there we headed over and about and around the forks of the Smith river to reach the famous and infamous, loved and hated Howland Hill Road. Howland Hill Road was a filming location for “Star Wars: Return of the Jedi” and is considered one of the most scenic drives in the Redwood National and State Parks.

 If you can’t tolerate dust and  squeezing your shiny unblemished car between massive tree trucks, this is not the road for you. Part of this 10-mile road was once a stage coach road and my take on it is it hasn’t seen many  upgrades since that era. Most of Howland Hill Road is NARROW. It is a  non-tarred surface, single lane thus accommodating one car,  but naturally this is a two way road so one is required to make liberal use of the many pull-outs. It is about as intimate as one can get with a redwood without getting out and hugging it and it is akin to walking a path through the redwoods except in a car. Since this was a Sunday and Memorial Day week-end with halcyon weather, a myriad of folks also had their brilliant idea of driving the path of an old stage coach road so we pulled over and out again , over and out again and again. The road is not recommended for RV’s but there are always those individuals who believe they are the exception. It was as if they were driving a Conestoga Wagon on a path meant for a horse and buggy. After a wonderful hike of the Stout Memorial Grave, I opted out of stopping at any more trail heads to visit massive trees as the string  of cars parked on  the road near  every trailhead was extremely long. Walking the distance to the trail head would be akin to assisted suicide by the driver gawking at these very tall tree and oblivious to me on this road shrouded in a cloud of dust . P.S.  I absolutely loved the experience of driving this road. 

One thing of particular interest to me was the number of fallen trees. I subsequently read that between 2010 and 2020, a lot of big trees fell along the northern edge of the grove, where it borders the Smith River. Now the trail passes a nearly continuous string of fallen giants and the exposed roots of these uprooted Redwoods , which  in many instances remain intact.  One can observe  the intertwining web of redwood tree roots. These roots create a mesmerizing network that supports the towering giants and fosters a unique form of cooperation among the trees allowing these trees to withstand powerful winds and storms. We humans could learn a few lessons from this tree colony.

Having emerged from the Howland Hill  extreme adventure drive,  I swung north to Tolowa Dunes State Park and  Point St. George which is  located on the land of the Tolowa Dee-ni’. This is another area  with a very tragic history–because these are the ancestral lands of the Tolowa people, whose villages were attacked by settlers in the 1850s. The Dee-ni’ Holocaust began in California in 1851 with the goal of a war of extermination to continue to be waged between the two races until the Indian race became extinct. There was an  appropriation of one-million-four-hundred-thousand (1,400,000) dollars to pay vigilantes to destroy them under the slogan that rang across the land: “The only good Indian is a dead one”. A few hundred survived and were driven to concentration camps. Gazing across these ancestral lands yet again fills my heart with rage at the atrocities rendered upon native Americans in the white European settlers imperialistic   expansion of the West under the tenets of “Manifest Destiny “ – seeing their expansion  as a divinely ordained, moralistic assertion of American exceptionalism.

I drove until the road dead ended into a parking area and walked a path over dunes to the water and a relatively secluded beach bordered with driftwood. It was a nice contrast to the experience of the Redwood Parks to the south. Feeling sated by water and wood it was time to return to the hotel and enjoy the sights and sounds of the sea as it lapped the shore before me. A simple dinner of a Caesar Salad and clam chowder in the restaurant was a perfect end to a spectacular show produced by Mother Nature and Farther Time!.