Traveling America By Van: US Highway 101- Northern California
by: John Kumiski
Soft, morning sunlight, filtered through a maze of conifer branches, streamed past the van's window and into our faces. The sun seemed to be saying, "It's time to get up, lazyheads!" Taking the sun's advice, we got dressed and got up. A quick breakfast and a round of morning chores and we were on the road.
That road was US Highway 101. The "Redwood Highway," as northern California tourism groups call it, runs from Los Angeles to the Seattle area, over 1000 miles. Our route had brought us to the northern end of California Highway 1 and onto 101. We spent that night at Hickey-Standish State Recreation Area, right by that junction. We would take 101 into Oregon. Not this day, though.
Views like this are common along this section of the California coast.
Today we'd be passing through the Humboldt Redwoods State Park. A thirty-mile secondary road called The Avenue of Giants runs parallel to 101 there. We got on the Avenue when the time came, and made several stops to commune with the giant trees found there.
Giant redwood trees. Holy cow. They are so big, so magnificent, my vocabulary can't begin to explain. Ordinarily in this situation I take photos, since a picture is worth so many words. No. My pictures in the case of redwoods (and giant sequoias) had been completely inadequate to this point. This day was no exception. I shot plenty of frames, and, unhappy with the results, tossed but one.
Susan, dwarfed by a redwood in the Stout grove.
The only way you can understand, REALLY understand, these trees is to walk among them with a sense of wonder. The sense of wonder is easy to tap into, since the trees are beyond wonderful. One can feel the presence of God around these trees. It's just incredible.
We took our lunch at the park visitor's center, which, unlike so many others we had run across, was open. There were many displays inside about the ecology of the area, and the history of American's relationship with redwoods, but the exhibit I found most fascinating was a truck whose body consisted solely of a hollowed-out section of redwood log. I imagine that vehicle not only got poor fuel economy, but went through shocks and tires rather quickly!
Susan stands by the exposed roots of a blown-down redwood in Humboldt Redwoods State Park.
After one last walk through a redwood grove, it was back into the van. We had a motel reservation in Eureka. An hour's drive and we'd be there with enough time to explore town a bit before check-in.
Eureka, home to many historic buildings that suggest a prosperous past, struggles with the present. The town was founded during the California gold rush. When that ended, the timber and fishing industries provided economic impetus. Since the end of World War 2, those industries have been in decline here. Downtown, many fine old buildings have equally fine shops, but many stores are vacant. You see many homeless people here. It's sad. It's a beautiful area. I hope the town can revitalize!
If you want an exercise in futility, try finding a campsite in coastal California on the weekend during the summer. Eureka, and the Sea Drift Inn, was this weekend's stop. We use our motel time to catch up on correspondence, pay bills, wash clothes, wash ourselves (Not many public campgrounds have showers in these parts!), and similar necessary activities. Not as fun as hanging on a beach, but needed nonetheless. We even had time to window shop downtown, where I bought a copy of John McPhee's Annals of the Former World.
Sunday found us back on US 101. A major landslide a few days earlier had closed the road between Klamath and Crescent City, in a spot which has long been a problem. The road was now open, single lane only, for three hours a day. If we timed it right we could keep our wait to a minimum. The magic road-opening hour was mid-day.
A tiny section of the line of vehicles waiting for US 101 to open where the landslide occurred.
We got to the end of a who-knew-how-long line at 11:30 or so. I shut off the car and went looking for berries. I found some, all green. Susan read a book. I photographed some daisies. Eventually we started moving. Once past the slide area, the road was beautiful, stunning.
Hungry, we found a seafood shack in Crescent City and ate some fish. Tacos are good! We went looking for those famous Crescent City sea lions. Elvis had left the building, though, searching for better fishing grounds. So we found Highway 199, and headed toward Cave Junction.
A highway sign said "elk crossing." It did not prepare us for the thirty animals along the side of the road! Susan got a quick shot on her cell phone, but there was no place to stop, which was frustrating. You don't see many elk in Florida! I wanted some photos!
We found our campsite, in a small Forest Service campground. The Smith River ran nearby. It's well known as a steelhead stream, but also holds cutthroat trout. I walked down and looked for fish for nearly an hour. A few smolts were the only obvious fish. But on the way back to camp, I found the blackberries.
Blackberries, anyone? Lots of them through this area.
Blackberries are one of many invasive species along the Pacific coast. As I stuffed my face with delicious berries, ecology was forgotten. Picking berries ranks high on my list of pleasurable outdoor activities, and there were gallons of ripe ones here. I did my best to reduce the berry population, staining my hands and lips a rich purple color. Gallantly, I even brought some back for my wife, who was well pleased.
In the morning we stopped for a sign. "Botanical Trail," we read. Along this short trail was a bog full of the largest pitcher plants I'd ever seen, belonging to the genus Darlingtonia. A few still had flowers. There were also a few stems of brilliant red flowers that appeared to be a kind of lily but which I could not identify.
I could not identify this lovely flower that was growing along the Botanical Trail off of Highway 199.
A walk in the Stout grove in the Jedediah Smith Redwood State Park followed. The redwood trees here, well, magnificent, amazing, incredible, awe-inspiring, none of these words say enough. All of them combined don't say enough. I may have gotten a couple pictures here that, in a tiny way, begin to convey that immense size of these trees. We had a conversation with a couple from Michigan. The woman told me, "Our deck is made of redwood. Now that I see these trees, I feel so guilty." Everyone should have a chance to see them!
Darlingtonia pitcher plants growing along the Botanical Trail.
Our stay in the Smith River valley was a quick two nights. Morning saw us on the road yet again, heading north toward the Oregon state line on US 101.
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