Dave'n'Kathy's Vagabond Blog: Redwood National and State Parks

One of the reasons we wanted to drive down the California coast was to see the giant redwoods. We'd explored them before in the Muir Woods north of San Francisco on previous trips, but this was our first chance to see the redwoods on the wilder Northern California coast. As a bonus, we could visit Redwood National Park!

The parks preserve a number of threatened animal species such as the tidewater goby, Chinook salmon, northern spotted owl, and Steller's sea lion. They have been designated a World Heritage Site and are part of the California Coast Ranges International Biosphere Reserve.

The Redwood National and State Parks are stretched along the coast of northern California and are made up of Redwood National Park (established in 1968) and California's Del Norte Coast, Jedediah Smith, and Prairie Creek Redwoods State Parks (dating from the 1920s), the combined parks cover over 200 square miles of old-growth rainforests. The four parks protect 45% of all remaining coast redwood old-growth forests. These trees are the tallest, among the oldest,and one of the most massive tree species on Earth. It took Kathy about 5 minutes on our first coffee walk into the park before she found the biggest redwood around to hug:

In addition to the redwood forests, the parks preserve nearly 40 miles of pristine coastline. We had a chance to see parts of it on Friday, October 25, 2019 as we drove a northern loop road to High Bluff Overlook. The photo below looks north toward the mouth of the Klamath River:

Our second stop along the loop drive was an old military radar station. The B-71 radar station, also known as Klamath River Radar Station, is a rare surviving example of 65 Army Air Force early warning stations that were arrayed along the Pacific Coast in World War II. It was constructed to look like a farmhouse. The cinderblock structures boast shingled roofs and fake windows and dormers. From the air, the sea, and even the road, these buildings appeared to be part of a working farm. In fact, they housed a diesel generator, electronic equipment, and two 50-caliber anti-aircraft guns.

It was possible to hike down to the buildings and peer into them. Dusty had to stay up in the parking area, but kept a keen eye on us as we walked:

Our next stop on the loop was the spit at the mouth of the Klamath River. Modern day native groups such as the Yurok, Tolowa, Karok, Chilula, and Wiyot all have historical ties to the region, and some Native American groups still live in the park area today. Archaeological study shows they arrived in the area as far back as 3,000 years ago. An 1852 census determined that the Yurok were the most numerous, with 55 villages and an estimated population of 2,500 at that time. One can only imagine how large their population was before they were decimated by diseases introduced by Europeans. They used the abundant redwood, which with its linear grain was easily split into planks, as a building material for boats, houses, and small villages. For buildings, the planks would be erected side by side in a narrow trench, with the upper portions bound with leather strapping and held by notches cut into the supporting roof beams. Redwood boards were used to form a shallow sloping roof.

We saw examples of this construction as we stopped to walk out onto the spit. This is a ceremonial area that is important to the local tribes. They have fished this part of the river for thousands of years.

The spit has morphed over the years due to the tides and the force of the Klamath River's current. While Google Maps shows that the spit curls out into the water from the south (our side of the river) and leaves an opening for the river to empty into the Pacific Ocean along the north shore of the river, when we arrived, we saw that the configuration had reversed: the north end of the spit connects to the Klamath River's northern shoreline, and the south end is now the mouth of the river. This was somewhat disappointing, because it prevented us from walking out onto the spit.

Still, we were amply rewarded for our troubles. As with much of the Southern Oregon and Northern California coasts, the beach is graced with volcanic sea stacks in fantastic shapes:

We walked south along the shore of the river's mouth, looking across to the spit, where dozens of Native American fishermen were doing their best to hook, gaff or net the Steelhead and Chinook (King) Salmon that were swimming up the river.

Oh, yes, and they had fierce competition from the seals and sea lions that were patrolling the breadth and length of the river's mouth:

We stood fascinated, watching the seals swimming at high speed underwater as they chased the fish. Of course, the gulls and other shorebirds were flocking in attendance, and would descend and float around the scene when a fish was captured. This happened to the fishermen as well as the seals.

The parks have, collectively, three visitor centers. The headquarters is in Crescent City, but two are located in the park near our campground, so part of our goal was to visit those two. Our first stop was the Prairie Creek Visitor Center, located more in the interior of the parks, which has served as the visitor center for Prairie Creek State Park. It is of classic wood lodge construction, which, by its style and the surrounding stone work, we imagined was CCC work. Here, Kathy models the interior of the center:

By the time we finished our visitor center, it was lunchtime, so we picked a bench in a pretty location with a view of the small valley in which the visitor center is set. No sooner had we unwrapped our lunch than a Stellar's Jay and his/her mate flew over and kept a watchful eye on us to see if any food might become vulnerable to their snatch:

Having finished lunch, we headed further south. Our second visitor center stop was the Kutchel Visitor Center, a modern building faced in bleached wood that blended with its environment in a beach section of the parks. From that visitor center it is possible to walk out a boardwalk to the beach and view the pristine Northern California coast:

While the parks have a huge number of trails for a hiker's enjoyment, we had one trail in mind -- Fern Canyon, which, due to its haunting rainforest personality, was the location for shooting of parts of "The Lost World: Jurassic Park," BBC's "Walking with Dinosaurs," and IMAX's "Dinosaurs Alive!"

In true Jurassic Park fashion, we drove our Jeep down dirt roads and through streams to the trailhead. As you can see in the photo below, Dusty enjoyed this part of the hike:

We had plenty of company at the trailhead. Perhaps a dozen other cars had made it in the rough road. Some were sedans without high clearance or 4WD, and it appeared most of them were rental cars, because anyone owning a sedan would not have wanted to brave the potholes and stream crossings. In fact, where Dusty had to cross the stream in the photo above, there were 5 or 6 sedans parked, and, further along the road, we found their occupants hiking the last mile or so to the trailhead parking lot. We picked up a couple from Florida who had chosen to abandon their sedan and hike. Somehow, they squeezed into our little back seat which was already piled high with flotsam and jetsam, but they were very thankful for the lift.

Here was our view of the canyon as we entered it. It is unique because of its narrow, high canyon walls, which are completely covered by trees and ferns. It is interesting to hike because the floor is comprised generally of soft gravel and sand, interpersed with boulders and huge hunks of trees that have been washed down the canyon over the years.

Now, as we did, imagine you are in this same place, hunting dinosaurs, and you stumble onto the location set for Lost World: Jurassic Park --

That could be us splashing through the stream! And, indeed, a stream still runs through it, so the hike involves many stream crossings. The ranger at the entrance station warned us that we were going to get our feet wet, and she was so right. We had hiking shoes, so we had to make choices. Not wanting to wade in bare feet, we chose differently: David just sloshed through the water and got his shoes and socks wet; Kathy worked mightily to find routes across the water by logs, rocks and such, and found herself making death-defying leaps to keep her feet dry:

The map shows the trail as a loop, but we saw only one route up the streambed through the canyon and we assumed that we would be returning the route we came. However, some way up the canyon, David spotted a small set of stone stairs that are in the process of returning to nature. They appeared to lead nowhere. Curious, he climbed them to see what trail they had been part of and -- lo and behold! -- found a real trail climbing upward from them.

We had, fortuitously, found the path out of the canyon and were able to return by the loop that wound its way higher on the canyon wall. It brought us into a magical cathedral of redwood trees, with golden light filtering through to the fern-carpeted floor:

By the time we completed our Jeep drive back from Fern Canyon, it was late afternoon, so we headed back to our campground. We passed Elk Meadow, a portion of the park housing a large herd of elk. We had drive south past the same spot earlier in the day and had seen the herd lounging on a grass lawn of a cabin campground near Elk Meadow (preferring, we guessed, the juicy green mowed grass of the campground to the more raw grasses of the meadow. So we were prepared with our camera as we approached the campground. We were rewarded with this view of the bull elk resting regally among his harem. It must not have been rutting season yet, because other males were also relaxing, unmolested, with the herd.

Our campsite alongside the Klamath River inspired us to have a campfire, even though it gets very chilly here as soon as the sun goes down. No matter. Once the fire was built, David relaxed next to it for warmth --