Good Morning
Jeremiah and I rise at 7:00am Pacific Time — and immediately head across the street to Starbucks because, well, coffee is the fuel of legends. Jeremiah takes the wheel for the next 3.5 hours, navigating 101 like a modern-day ranger leading a quest to Redwood National Park.
Agate Beach
Just outside the park, we stumble upon a beach that stretches endlessly to the horizon, ending in a rocky cliff. The waves whisper tales of the Pacific, and the sea air is sharp yet welcoming, a reminder that this world is both wild and magical. Swimming is forbidden — apparently the ocean here has its own idea of mischief — but admiring it from the sand is reward enough.
Redwood National Park
Crossing the border into the park proper, our first stop is Thomas H. Kuchel Visitor Center. We swap our sneakers for hiking boots, snag a map, and pick up the park newspaper from the gift shop. Jeremy emerges with a long-sleeved gray shirt, and I choose a green short-sleeved one — our official adventurer garb.
Lady Bird Johnson Trail
We turn onto Bald Hill Road, passing a gated area that looks like the lair of a secret woodland sprite. Undeterred, we make our way to Lady Bird Johnson Grove Trail. The parking lot is tiny, of course, so we leave the car on the shoulder and hike downhill like intrepid explorers returning to a trail that calls to them. A bridge arches above Bald Hill Road, and from there, the magic begins.
Our first colossal tree is burnt through — a natural cathedral of charred wood. We stand inside it, arms outstretched, and still don’t touch the sides. Hugging these trees is like embracing a giant, gentle guardian of the forest. Sister trees grow entwined like old friends sharing gossip, and tropical-looking leaves with pink rhododendrons peek between the towering redwoods.
Then there are the “giant shamrocks” — only they’re not shamrocks at all. They’re Redwood Sorrels, with heart-shaped leaves showing off their pink undersides. Nature always has a trick or two up her sleeve, doesn’t she?
Fallen trees along the trail have been cut so you can walk between their trunks, a clever way to let nature decay naturally while still allowing adventurers like us passage. The loop is only a mile long, but the uphill trek back to the car feels like scaling a miniature mountain — the redwoods must be chuckling at our mortal legs.
Lyon's Ranch
Next, we venture to Lyon's Ranch, an old sheep farm blocked off to vehicles. The barn and house are closed, but the meadow stretches wide, the perfect scene for a quiet picnic. We are the only two wandering this enchanted land, soaking in the solitude.
Elk of Bald Hill Road
The “mystery fenced area” from earlier reveals its secret: a herd of elk, including adorable fawns. Naturally, we stop so I can capture this magical wildlife moment — nature’s own little parade, framed perfectly for photographs.
Big Tree Wayside
Back on 101, we veer onto Newton B. Drury Scenic Parkway. At Big Tree Wayside, a sign points in various directions, cheekily announcing what you already know: there is, indeed, a very big tree. We giggle, because sometimes the simplest things are the most delightful.
Corkscrew Tree
Finally, we reach the Corkscrew Tree, our favorite of all the giants in the park. For a brief moment, it’s just us and the tree — a private audience with something truly ancient. Soon, another couple arrives, and we share photography tips and laughs before continuing on.
Exiting the Park
Newton B. Drury Scenic Parkway loops back to 101, and as we cross the Klamath River, we leave the redwoods behind, hearts full and minds buzzing with wonder. The road stretches on, leading us to new adventures, but the memory of these colossal, whimsical guardians will stay with us forever.



