Redwood National Park - Crescent City, CA - Travel Blog Photo Journal

When we entered the part of the forest where they were growing on our way to Pebble Beach, I was immediately struck by the presence of the California redwoods on either side of the road. They were massive, imposing, and utterly breathtaking. The entire look and feel of the forest had changed. It felt like we had stepped through a veil into the presence of something ancient; the oldest of secrets; a settled, grounded wisdom. There was something about the salt-laden, foggy air that day that enhanced the feeling of being amidst something very, very old and almost magical.

It was not until later, when we looked up how old the redwoods in this forest are, that we learned that some experts think some of them could be as old as 3,000 or 4,000 years.

After we strolled the beach and visited the Ocean World Aquarium, we stopped by the Hiouchi Visitor’s Center for the Redwood National Park on our way to spend more time with these soulful trees. The visitor’s center has information about the available trails, hikes, and amenities in the area, as well as a selection of souvenirs (I chose some stickers and a postcard!).

Two of the ladies who were working there that day recommended that we try the Howland Hill area, so we turned left out of the visitor center, then took a right on South Fork Rd. After you cross a bridge over the Smith River, the road forks. “Keep the water to your right,” the women advised, and the road in that direction then turned into Howland Hill Rd, from which several different trail heads can be accessed. We parked at the first one on the right, just across from a steeper trail that started on the left, and headed down a narrow, poison-oak lined, rooty trail that runs alongside the river below.

We had not been walking long when we came across a group of majestic redwoods growing in a circle like a grand council. The forest was so silent here. All was absolutely still. I could not even hear birds or small critters rustling about. It felt like the most hallowed, sacred place I had ever been, and when I tilted my head back to stare up into the canopy, I found myself feeling emotional and teary; so affected by these spectacular beings and the way they almost seemed to ground and calm the deepest parts of my soul just by standing there - deep calling to deep.

I turned around and took a couple of selfies so I could remember the feeling of standing in that very spot - one with the circle of trees behind me, and another with one of the largest of them at my back.

The grandest of cathedrals
in a council of trees

I can breathe
I can breathe
I can be

- Erin Darlyn, 5.16.24

I crossed a bridge to find a fallen redwood, taller than I in its girth, with a smaller tree growing on top of its trunk. If you zoom into the picture on the left, you can see its exposed roots spread out across the wood of the dead tree. Life springing up from a dead thing, somehow finding sustenance, stubbornly determined to live and grow despite unfavorable conditions. That tree spoke to me. I can just picture what it must have looked like when it was but a seedling, first taking root in the bark of a grandmother tree returning to the earth and then stretching for the sun.

I didn’t see the face in this bit of knotty burled trunk until I went back to look at the pictures from our trip later, but it’s so funny to me now that I can see it! Can you? (Look for a large-nosed a side profile.)

To give you an idea of how large these trees are (and I’ve heard since that these are not even the biggest ones!), here’s a photo of me standing with my arms outstretched around the part of the trunk nearest me.

Jon climbed up onto one of the fallen redwoods we came across and walked down it as far as he could to get a feel for just how tall they are. He was so tiny by the time he turned around and walked back toward me, and this was one of the younger trees!

Also, is the light in that second photo not just stunning? The redwoods during golden hour are glorious.

This natural wall on the edge of a small stream was covered in different kinds of ferns and other foliage plants. It was hard to capture from where I stood, but you can see the Northern maidenhair ferns that caught my attention, as well as some of the longer fronds of other species hanging down from above.

“My soul is a fern
that lives in California.
She breathes salt air,
hugs the feet of the redwoods,
and roots in the grit
of the sea.”

- Erin Darlyn, 5.16.24

We saw several trees along the trail that had burn scars, and never grew accustomed to just how very small standing at the base of one of the larger trees made us feel.

On the ground near the trunk of one of the larger trees was a collection of miniature posies someone had left for the tree. It made me happy to think it had a regular visitor who cared enough to bring it gifts.

When we got home, I looked up some of the plants we had seen to see if I could identify those I didn’t know yet, and I found that we had likely seen Northern maidenhair ferns (Adiantum pedatum), Redwood sorrel (Oxalis oregana), Claytonia sibirica, and western star flower (Lysimachia latifolia).

There were also several kinds of trilliums along the trails, and we saw multiple fern species.

For much of the trail, we could hear the Smith River running below us, but could only catch glimpses of it during certain sections of the trail.

Other plants we saw included heucheras, rhododendrons, multiple species of oxalis, thimbleberries, huckleberries, manzanita, and several things we could not yet identify.

I woke up at home in my bed the next morning and immediately wanted to return to the redwoods. Their forest was the most beautiful I had ever seen and I can’t wait to get back there to see them again.