The only goal was to see some Redwoods, which ones and where we didn't know. At the info center, being closed that early in the morning, we made our decision off of a kiosk map to find 'the tall ones' first. We had been told of 'Fern Valley' by our hotel clerk but opted for the alluring title of 'the tall ones'... I figured they'd be as good as any and hopefully tall. Looking at the scale on the map I assumed it was around two miles of trail to get us into the woods where we'd find the trees, a 4 mile trip or so. Easy enough, leaving more time in this short winter day for other sights. Once at the trail head the sign said 5 miles one way, with a much unaccounted for change in elevation. For two Minnesota farm boys this had just become our one activity of the day. Since we were traveling off season the option of taking an automobile path much closer to the site was not an option, not that we'd have considered before we arrived at our trail head.
Here we were on the top of the valley over-looking Dolason's Prairie Trail leading us down into the forested valley below, with five miles of trail ahead of us, ten if we planned on making it back out of the forest. We had our cameras, a few bottles of Gatorade, a packet of dried cranberries, street shoes and our leather jackets. Probably not your typical hikers, but who was to know, we were the only two on the mountain.
For those six hours in the Redwood National Park that mountain was ours, at no point did we pass anyone else on the trail. The only evidence of people was the narrow foot path that wound in and out of the prairie leading us down the the valley and deeper into the forest. On this walk I marveled in Nature's beauty and acknowledged the greatness in man. I have always been drawn to the Greek and Roman histories. I've dreamed of visiting the land of stone columns and here in the wilderness amongst these massive columns of virgin timber, it was not man's ability to create that inspired me. Here in the woods it was the foresight to allow these natural temples to stand, untarnished by man's innovation.
I recalled something I read of John Steinbeck just two days prior in a cafe on Cannery Row in Monterey: 'Man himself has become our greatest hazard and our only hope'. As there is a proliferation of man and his creations, we must employ a conscientious effort to allow Nature's majesty to flourish. Allow may give illusions of grandeur to mankind, rather we must limit our interference and indifference of the natural world. I am grateful for the members of world that have found worth in what some would call underutilized land. These pockets of wilderness throughout the world have an important role, and must grow for generations to come.
Spending any amount of time in the forest you begin to see that death is just a platform for life. A fallen tree left where it lays, becomes a welcoming host to a multitude of life. Each as important as the behemoth trees. There is no true end in the forest, in its design there is a natural re-purposing. Death itself is not the end, it is just one more beauty of the forest, a continuance of life.
I set out on a West Coast pilgrimage to see the the tall trees; truly I have never felt more reverence amongst these Giants. I felt a bit silly proclaiming awe over a different tree every few steps, but it was sincere. The adventure was limited by day-length and other seasonal limitations, that comes with the territory of a traveling farmer. For our time in the woods with the rain clouds scattered and the sun's filtered rays finding their way amidst the cool damp air of the forest canopy, I have never been filled with more energy and life.
