Curves & Beauty & Naming Schemes

While traveling, I have noticed that beauty and curves often go together. They are not mutually inclusive by any means, but they are often related. A beautiful woman very often has great curves of some sort. A scenic byway normally means a slow and curvy road from which to better observe beautiful landscapes. This is definitely true of California. The famed Ca-1 was so winding at times we had to take a break to give my mind and stomach some respite. In fact, some of the roads there reminded me of Central America, narrow, winding, and cutting dangerously close to objects such as rocks, trees or telephone poles.

In Sequoia National Park, we drove up a winding road to the grove of giant sequoias.

See the twisting road we traveled?

At one point, we even got to drive under/through a fallen sequoia.


Another item of beauty with ample curves that I have discovered that I love is tree roots. When the tree falls over and exposes the beginning of the system of roots that it has, the roots are displayed in a whimsical, enchanting way.


To get to the panoramic views atop of Moro Rock, we had to climbing a curvy staircase.

The sequoias were huge. They aren’t as tall as the Coastal Redwoods, but they get much thicker than them. They have a more brusque, “big and strong” appearance, while the redwoods have a finer, more wispy appearance. And, get this, the sequoias actually have red bark! The scientific name for redwoods is sequoia sempervirens, while the sequoias is sequoiadendron giganteum. This drives me crazy. They should have given the sequoias the common name of “redwood,” and instead called the redwoods “sequoias.” I have no faith in our ancestors’ naming schemes.

That is me at the bottom of this monolith.

There was a fuzzy black bear with its cubs on the walk to see General Sherman. I got to get pretty close, but the trick is to keep someone else between you and the bear.

In front of the world’s largest tree by mass.

This is an outline of General Sherman’s base. He no longer grows any taller, but each year he grows another thin layer of bark, which is the equivalent mass of another small tree.

Yosemite had more winding trails that lead to beautiful views.

Bridalveil Falls.

Mirror Lake (currently dried up).

And, last but not least as we left California, we visited the ancient bristlecone pines. These trees are the oldest known living organisms on earth with some aged at 4700 years old! It is amazing the history contained in the tree rings of these trees. They have been able to identify major geological events in the rings, such as an unusually-cold year which corresponded with a volcanic eruption which lowered worldwide temperatures for over a year. They aren’t much to look at, except for their pinecones and their skeletons!

The oldest pines are often shorter, stunted and damaged trees.

The first-year pinecones (yes, they take multiple years to mature) are purple red spikes.

Their skeletons of hardwood last for centuries as well. Look at the curving, whimsical beauty of this guy!

So, California has the tallest, largest, and oldest trees that we currently know of. This does not seem fair.

West Coast Hysteria

San Francisco airport had the best chance of me getting on a flight to get to Kansas to make it to my sister’s and cousin’s bridal showers. So we arranged our travels to make it there by the time that I needed to fly out. We decided to participate as tourists for once and drive over the Golden Gate bridge and visit Fisherman’s Wharf while we were there. We had read online that there was a $6 toll in the southbound direction, so we were prepared to pay. However, as we approached, there was a sign that said no cash. We figured we would then pay with credit card. When we got to the toll booth, there was no attendant or way to pay, so we just drove on through. Apparently, San Franciscans have this “pay by license plate” or something, where you are billed based upon their plates. Maybe we will get a bill in the mail?



Then we made our way to Fisherman’s Wharf. As we progressed closer to our destination, we figured parking would be difficult to find. We did finally find a spot on the road and scrounged up enough coins to purchase an hour’s worth of parking. It happened to be about lunchtime so we decided we would find lunch and get back, having completed the task of visiting the wharf.



Walking about looking for a place to eat, we realized that America’s Cup Finals were being held in San Francisco this weekend. In the bay, we could see sail boats sliding by, showing off before the race. One of the boats offering rides to watch the Cup was the “Lovely Martha.” Jonathan’s grandma, Martha, has been watching this boat since she was a young woman. In fact, on one of Fred & Martha’s first dates, she took him to see it and next to it was the “Captain Fred.” Oh, the ironies of life! Sadly, this time it was Captain Chris that was next door.



We decided on Alioto’s for lunch. It is the oldest restaurant on the wharf, and they were offering cheaper lunch specials from their second story with views of the bay. Jonathan got the fish and chips and I the tortellini with tomato cream sauce. Both were excellent. The fish had such a great flavor; I was impressed.

We made it back to our van just in time and made our way back out of the city in search of a reasonably-priced campground. We made our way along the coast to a campground that I had found whose prices I thought would be $10. When we got there, we were going to be charged a minimum of $30. So, we decided to drive on for another 45 minutes to the next campground, which definitely offered $12 tent camping. We got settled in for the evening, and then during dinner, a ranger came up and told us we were in the wrong area. Then he asked if we had bought camping for an RV. I said no, that we considered ourselves a tent. He said that we needed to purchase the RV permit for $30 and call the number on the kiosk during business hours to get a refund on our tent permit. Frustrated with the fact that we would have to pay so much more and we were only going to be there until 3:30am, we decided to leave and find a Walmart. When we got cell reception, we discovered that California cities don’t permit overnight parking in their Walmart parking lots, so we searched for a rest area. Jonathan found us one a lot closer to the airport, which was a plus.

My flight left at 5:50am, so I needed to be there at 4:50am, so we were up at 4:15am. I did catch both of my flights. My dependable brother had arranged for a vehicle to be in the parking lot for me to take when I arrived. So that weekend, I got go to my cousin’s shower on Saturday and my sister’s shower on Sunday. I had a ton of fun, while Jonathan got to entertain himself in the California wilderness by himself for 4 days.

California’s living expenses are frightful. Gas is about a full dollar more expensive than the Midwest prices. Food prices are exorbitant. For example, we needed groceries and couldn’t find a Walmart. The prices were high: a pound of chuck roast was $10, a large can of parmesan was $9. Then to top it off, free campsites are few and far between. Most of the campgrounds in California, especially state parks, charge $30 for dry-camping! You may get flush toilets for that price. Ridiculous. This has definitely made us want to limit our time here.

I had heard that Big Sur area along Ca-1 is one of the most scenic drives and Jonathan had heard that Montana de Oro State Park was pretty great. Since we were already so far west and south in California, I figured we might as well as hit up those spots now, despite our desire to get out of California as soon as possible. When I was reunited with my husband Monday morning, we made our way south along the coast again. I guess I must have just been spoiled with my other travels, as I did not find the scenery very enticing. Maybe it was just the wrong time of year—it was really dry and everything was dead.



We did continue on to Montaña de Oro State Park. While camping costs are extravagant in California, at least day use fees are nonexistent. On our way to enjoy the park, we came across a colony or two of elephant seals. They were quite entertaining to watch as they slept and played.



After the elephant seals, we were thinking of checking out Hearst Castle, since someone had recommended it to me. However, when we got there, we discovered it was $25pp entrance fee, and we weren’t interested enough to pay that much. But, as we pulled away on the highway, there were zebras grazing in a pasture. Must have been a Hearst purchase…

Hearst Castle.

Seeing elephant seals and zebras in one day outside of a zoo is not a bad day.

After lunching and a brief walk on one of the trails at Montaña de Oro State Park, we left the west coast for the interior, with Sequoia, Kings Canyon, and Yosemite National Parks in mind.

Jonathan on a fly killing spree at our campsite that night. He took out well over 150 flies.

Walking Among the Giants

Since we are in a hurry to see as much as we can before we have to be in Kansas for half a month for familial weddings, we left Eagle Point, OR, on Monday. The plan was to scope out the coastal redwoods and California’s coast as we made our way south. Within a few hours, we had entered Jedidiah Smith Redwood State Park, the first of the redwoods, coming from the north.

We missed the visitor’s center, and then the Walker Road exit, so we did a lot a turning around and going back to things that day. When we did find the visitor center, they had seeds and saplings for redwoods that you could buy and grow your own redwood. I so wanted one, but didn’t get around to purchasing it—it probably wouldn’t like the van climate.

We stopped for lunch on Walker Road. The redwoods here were fairly large—old-growth, they call them. One of the first things you notice about these trees are their massive trunks. They are the tallest trees in the world, but it is really hard to fathom their height. For one, most of us are really bad at perceiving heights—horizontal distances are one thing, height is another. For another, you are in a forest, so it isn’t like you get a clear view of a single tree (one of those can’t-see-the-forest-for-the-trees things, or more like can’t-see-the-tree-for-the-forest thing, I guess). So, you mostly just get an idea of how tall the tree is by examining the girth of its trunk, then following it up to see if you can tell whether it is towering over its neighbors. This is hard on your neck. You almost need a neck brace to rest your head on while you are examining the canopy—no, seriously! They get to heights that are taller than football fields are long—350+ feet.



Other interesting observations about the redwood forests:

• the ground is pretty much roots and mulch. Literally. I dug into the “earth” there, and for several inches (I didn’t care to go further—too many roots making the job too difficult), there is nothing but roots and wood chips from fallen redwoods. I imagine this makes a pretty good dirt after a while, but for now, just an interesting mulch that plants who manage to survive in the darkness of the forest thrive on.
• most redwoods don’t look very red. Apparently, under the bark the wood is pretty red, but the bark itself looks rather grey. I was a bit disappointed by this—I was expecting red trunks. Apparently the namers only care about the harvested wood color. 

Finally some red on the redwoods!

• the red comes from a chemical called tannin, which protects the tree from pests and fungi—rot and decay. So fallen redwoods last a long time.

There is a Jonathan in this picture—the little speck of red at the far end of the log.

• there are very few other plants in a redwood forest. Since redwoods live so long—approximately 2000 years—they just grow up and block out light. They get so big that even floods and fires don’t phase them, leaving them as one of the few living species after such an event and making it even harder for other species to grow. And, there are banana slugs which tend to eat everything in its path except redwoods and their seeds, which also decreases the chances of other species surviving.

A dying banana slug.

• of the species that do coexist with the redwood, there is a plant called sorrel—a three-leaf clover with purple on the groundside of the leaves (green on the sky-side).

• the redwood forest is really quiet. Our guess is that there are such few plants, including berries, that other animals, including birds find it difficult to inhabit the forests.
• there are lots and lots of tree hollows. Growing up, I would always read these stories about people who would find shelter in the hollow caverns of tree trunks. In all my travels, I had not once seen anything I might take shelter from the rain or cold in the base of a tree, except for maybe a hole in the ground beneath a root. I found this very disappointing. However, much to my delight, the redwoods have lots of these shelters.

As we drove along Highway 101, there were many other chances to see redwoods. There were also a lot of redwood gimmicks. One of the more interesting ones were they built entire (small) houses out of a single log of redwood. These huge logs, laid on their sides, hollowed out, and furnished. They looked to be bigger than our home—Chuck—but smaller than most people’s large RVs.

All in all, the redwoods are amazing, if a bit difficult to fully appreciate. At times, I felt like trying to comprehend the height and age of these trees was similar to trying to comprehend God. I can make comparisons and try visualizing something I know and multiplying to get a scale, but still it is beyond what I will ever experience or fully appreciate. I mean, some of these trees were alive when Christ walked on the earth; I can imagine that but not really. Anyways, seeing the redwoods in person is an experience that I feel every American should do at least once in their life.