Moving north I entered another sanctuary of old growth redwood groves: Smith grove in Jedediah Smith Redwood National Park. After running into nice people on the road, up from the Humbolt Redwoods, I settled into the main campground there: by a river, a fair number of RVs, separate hiker/biker camping spots too. Walking around, the campsites are filled with trillium flowers blossoming up in their trifold white glory. Glancing up through the trees after dinner I spot the crescent moon just breaking through the clouds in the low western sky.
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Morning wanderings by the clean clean waters of the Smith River. Some time with Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Gumption trap discussions. Then a friendly comes over and we drive up over the Smith River (and some wonderful rock cliffs flanking its sides) onto Howland Hill Road for a stop at Smith Grove. There we wander slowly and enjoy the giants. Many carpets of Wood Sorrel, but few Trilliums in the moister area down in the grove. Large downed log highways, little rays of sunshine, burned out goose pens and their relics standing as stalagmites of the open air. Nice to have company to bring scale to these giants, and we enjoy taking pictures – some for each other. Then back up the road, recalling fern names and wishing to spend many nights wandering those forests along the road. But North, a return to Portland beckons.