Paul Bunyan and Babe...

the Blue Ox almost cut all of them. I'm talking about the Old Growth Redwood Forests. 

Before the advent of White Folks to the Pacific Northwest, there was an estimated 2,000,000 acres of these green Giants  found along a lean stretch of the Northern California coast. Now only five percent of the Old Growth Redwoods remain. Eighty percent of those are in preserves, three California State Parks and one Redwood National Park. It's all managed with the trees in mind. That's a good thing.

Between the 1880's and 1920's most of the damage was done. This was a different kind of gold rush, but money was still the motivator. In Eureka, CA there were nine active lumber mills in operation. The trees were being mowed down at an alarming pace. What took 2,000 years to grow was gone in a relative "Jack be nimble, Jack be quick" moment. That's too fast.

All that carbon based-carnage finally got people's attention. "Save the Redwoods League" formed and began buying up land that the loggers haven't yet violated. The State and Feds got involved too. God bless them! 

A few Redwood factoids:

Redwoods thrive in cool temperatures, fog and rain. Not exactly my pint of IPA, but it works for them. Then again, I never grew up to be 379 feet high. Yes, they are the tallest living things on Earth. All this mass from a seed equal to the size of one tomato seed. The cones are as small as the tip of your pinky. Their bark is around one foot thick. It's impervious to disease, insects and fire. Unfortunately, it's not impervious to greed and loggers. 

Walking amongst them is the closest I'll ever come to an actual spiritual experience. A feeling I never received when I sat in a Synagogue; listening to Rabbi Isbee drone on about the human experience. 

I'm not the only one who feels this spiritual connection. I've seen visitors stop to touch the bark of a magnificent specimen. Their heads are usually bowed and their eyes are shut tight. Seeing the Redwoods make many feel humble. Even me. 

Silence is the predominant sound here. Footsteps are muffled in the duff. The Redwoods seem to vacuum up excess noise. It's a dignified, cultured and regal forest. These trees wouldn't vote for Trump! 

I love them. 

So does the United Nations. Redwoods State Parks and Redwood National Park have been designated both a World Heritage Site and an International Biosphere Reserve. 

No wonder I heard so many people speaking non-English languages.

This place is a Must See. I'm not joking...

Cheers from the Sunny Sierra Nevada of California,

Jeff

PS. I'll leave you with a John Muir quote. That dude really loved his trees. He didn't even go to a Forestry College like I did. 

"Any fool can destroy trees. They cannot run away; and if they could, they would still be destroyed - chased and hunted down as long as fun or a dollar could be got out of their bark hides, branching horns, or magnificent bole backbones." 

Oregon's Cascade Range...

will never be confused with North Cascades National Park. 

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2016/08/waterfalls-are-standard-issue.html

For one thing, it's sort of gentle compared to its neighbor to the North. The terrain is rounder and more rolling. There's not many waterways. It's dusty! The exclamation points are the stratovolcanoes running roughly north to south. When you hike above the green carpet layer of needle-bearing trees, one can see the nearby volcanoes. They rise up above everything else. The peaks are so prominent, they name Wilderness Areas after them: Mount Jefferson, Mount Washington, Three Sisters and Mount Thielsen.

There would have been a Mount Mazama Wilderness, but a mile of its height went Big Boom around 7,700 years ago. The blast was 42 times greater than the 1980 Mount St. Helens eruption. 

http://jeffsambur.blogspot.com/2016/08/on-may-18-1980-at-832-am.html

Now we call the water filled caldera Crater Lake National Park. The lake is 1,949 feet deep. Dude! That's deep! All those potential IPAs  come from rain and White Death melt. No creeks or rivers run into or out of the Crater. The color can be found at the paint section of any Home Depot. It's called "Ridiculously Blue." 

I painted Barley the Van's foyer in this easy-on-the-eye color. 

Come and see these Natural Wonders for yourself. It's all good, especially when the sun is out. 

This post was written in dank, dreary and clammy Crescent City, CA. I'm only here to hug Redwoods...

Jeff

"I must go down to the sea again..."

to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife;"

Excerpt from Sea Fever by John Masefield 

It was in the early 80's when I first tried by weather luck on the Washington/Oregon coast. At the time, I was riding a bicycle burdened down with panniers. I endured rain mixed with mist and fog. The temperatures ranged from lower hypothermia to upper hypothermia. Of course there was a dank breeze. I survived on hot bowls of clam chowder, washed down with mildly boiling tea. 

On another miserable day, while slurping my soup,  I glanced at a local newspaper. Hmmm. The temperatures on the east side of the Coastal Range were summery. 

That day I rode up and over those small mountains. 

This time, I noticed a looming high pressure system bearing down along the coast. The National Weather Service went so far as to issue a "High Heat Warning," for the ocean viewing masses. No need for clam chowder and tea on this go-around. 

I began my sandy sojourn at Cape Disappointment, WA. I wanted to see the infamous "Graveyard of the Pacific." It's also known as the Columbia River Bar. A 3 mile wide by 6 mile long wet stretch where the Columbia River exits into the Pacific. Seafarers can expect standing waves, winds, nasty currents, shoals and other watery hazardous conditions. Since 1792, 2,000 large ships have gone beneath this blend of salt and fresh water. Many lives have been lost there. 

Now, large ships are captained in by specialized pilots. Their job requirement is to get the freighters safely through the Bar. The pilots are well paid for their efforts.

Cape Disappointment is also known as the temporary hang out for Lewis and Clark's Corp of Discovery. The Cape wasn't to their liking for a winter's stay. Eventually they canoed across the Columbia to what is now the Oregon side. It still proved to be a drippy winter quarters. It was named Fort Clatsop. They weren't happy campers there.

With the fine weather I kept moving south. Then a change came my way. In Newport, OR I reached for fleece and a sweatshirt. The fog and damp found me. At least it was toasty at the Rogue Brewery. My personal forecast for the following morning was chilly to damp conditions. My joints and muscles got sore and achy.

Hmmm. It was summer on the eastern side of the Coastal Range. Up and over, Barley the Van and me went.

Some things never change.

Last photo: No visit to the Northwest Coast is complete without a the tasty treat of a Banana Slug appetizer. I like mine sautéed in butter and garlic. Bon Apetit! 

Cheers,

Jeff