Avenue of the Giants.
The slow version of US Route 101 in California’s North Coast.
Slow because it has only two lanes, and because you keep staring at the massive redwoods that line its length (31 miles more or less), and because you have to slow down to avoid trees that are in the way of the road…so the road goes around them, just by inches, and your mirror might bang on the tree….
Rather than a picture of the roadway, here’s a picture of why we visit the area:
Actually, this is probably more illustrative of why we visit the area:
The trees lean toward the center of the photo because I tilt the camera to catch as much as possible…click on any picture and it will fill your screen.
Everything is so accessible. There are little wide spots on the road, where you can park and walk 10 feet inside the woods…and be completely enveloped, surrounded as it were.
Despite the drought elsewhere in California, this area has no shortage of moisture…which is precisely why these giants flourish right here. Notice even the ground has ferns and tiny green cover plants everywhere there’s the slightest opportunity for sunlight. At the park office, a row of deciduous trees shows the results of plentiful moisture and available sunlight.
Ross helped with a couple pictures of fallen giants….
The rest stand there, straight and tall….
Beautiful! It’s been years since we took that drive, but I love it. This morning we were dealing with our own forest here. One ash tree had died with ash borers and threatened the house if it fell, so Marvin Budd came over with his tree-climbing equipment and went up 70′ to the first branch and then lopped off the top and came back down and felled the trunk. He asked us to look out occasionally to check on him, and then right after he started climbing, Bob went to the mailbox and slipped on ice and knocked himself out for a few moments. The medical center said he should get it checked, so he left me to watch for Marvin’s safety and drove himself there. He seems to be okay, but I have a doctor’s list of neurological checks on him that I should make every 4 hours, including at night, for 24 hours. So far okay. I’m sure we’ll enjoy getting up in the middle of the night to see if he can walk a straight line, close his eyes and keep his balance, look me in the eye with pupils the same size, remember things, speak clearly, and so on. But it’s better than developing a problem.