Lost Coast and Redwoods - A bittersweet time at the edge of the sea - 2023
I was excited. My friend Adam (Dreamer) was going to show me some of the areas of California that I hadn’t seen since I was a young child.
Many years ago, our family had driven up the coast all the way to Bandon, Oregon when I was maybe 10. I am not sure when it was, but I remember driving through giant forests past signs advertising Bigfoot.
We had ended up on a gray beach, our young family, staying in cottages on the bluff and riding horses on the sand. We ran up and down the beach with driftwood swords, slaying seaweed dragons.
The rest of the vacation was a blur, but those cool, shaded forests enchanted me.
05/24/2023
I took the short flight from San Diego to Sacramento, where Adam lives. He picked me up and we had lunch with some local beer and got our stuff together for the trip the next day. It was wonderful to meet his family in person and see their charming neighborhood. We had dinner outdoors on a wonderful warm spring afternoon.
The next morning, we loaded up the car and headed northwest. Our aim was for the Lost Coast.
Heading out from Sacramento
Along the way, I got an idea of how outdoor-focused Adam’s life has been. Around every corner, he pointed out somewhere he had been. Many places had been visited multiple times.
We had a late brunch in Willits at Lumberjacks, a choice that would come back to haunt us as we were full for the rest of the day.
We continued north, through valleys and along rivers, until we came out of the forest to a large meadow. This was to be our first stop, Prairie Creek Redwood State Park.
The scenic Elk Prairie at Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park
It was wonderful to stretch our legs and smell the trees. Prairie Creek ran throughout the park and we strolled along several of the trails, enjoying the giants towering above us and the elk in the meadow.
We then traveled north to backpack a short way into the Flint Ridge Campground, a first-come, first serve campground that requires one to backpack a short distance from the trailhead. It was extremely lush and scenic, perched on a hillside with peekaboo views to the ocean.
Headed up on a short hike to our campsite at Flint Ridge Campground
For some reason, neither of us took any pictures of the campsite. We set up our tents and hiked the short distance back down to the car. We had a hearty dinner at the local casino in Klamath.
We returned to the trailhead and hiked by headlamp to the campsite and called it an evening.
The next day, we drove out to Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park. Although a fairly popular park, there were many moments in the park where we whispered, as the towering redwoods created a stunning silence. The rough bark muffled all sounds.
The Grove of TItans at the Jedediah Smith Redwood State Park
Enjoying the peace at the Grove of Titans
We made it to the Grove of the TItans and lay down on the wide platform, staring upward at the trees, some upward of 350 feet tall, longer than a football field. We had it to ourselves. After almost falling asleep, we continued to the Boy Scout Tree Trail all the way to Fern Falls, where we had a snack.
On the Boy Scout Tree Trail at the Jedediah Smith Redwood State Park
There was so much to see. Mushrooms, ferns, enormous trees, and flowing creeks all added to the magic of the park.
Hungry, we drove into Crescent City and had a meal and some beer at the wonderful SeaQuake Brewing. We chatted a lot about Adam’s new endeavor, Alpine Adventure Coaching, which is a perfect fit for his experience as a backpacking and teacher. (You can read my interview with him here).
A lovely lunch at Sea Quake Brewing in Crescent City
We enjoyed coffee and dessert and spent most of the afternoon chatting about the outdoors. We then drove around Crescent City, seeing the coast, shopped for a bit and started considering driving back to our campsite having dinner at the casino again in Klamath.
However, we were so taken with the vibe at SeaQuake Brewing, we turned around and drove north back into Crescent City, where the dinner rush had begun. We waited for seats and enjoyed another wonderful meal there.
Full, we drove back to our campsite at Flint Ridge and hiked in, arriving at our tents at nearly 10:30PM. We slept while hearing the ocean crash into the cliffs below.
Salamander in our headlamps on the way back to our campsite
The next morning, we rose at around 7AM and gathered our things. The proper backpacking trip was about to start.
Banana Slug at our campsite
On our way out of the campground, a bear walked across the road in front of our car and crashed through the bushes on the other side. I had assumed there were bears around, but it was nice to see one so close to where we camped.
We started to make the long drive out to Sinkyone Wilderness State Park, Adam once again pointing out all the places he’s been along the way. This area of California is pretty wild.
We drove through Arcata and stopped for coffee and breakfast. We continued on all the way to Sinkyone State Park, which included miles on a dirt road, passing rural communities.
I wasn't sure what this was for, but Mayham might be a family name in Arcata
We got stopped by a closed and locked gate at the entrance to the state park. It was around 1PM.
The road was closed due to road damage from the heavy rains California experienced in the spring of 2023. We had just a sliver of service. It was Memorial Day weekend and the gate to the state park was closed.
Adam was confused, his research had not mentioned this. We looked at the map, and decided to play it by ear and see what it’s like at the end of the road.
We found a spot alongside the road and loaded up our backpacks and headed around the gate. From the time we arrived by car to the gate to the time we started toward the coast, the marine layer came in, shrouding the trees in a dense fog.
Getting Started on the Lost Coast Trail at Sinkyone Wilderness State Park
We discussed the lush flora around us, saw more banana slugs, and wondered why the road was closed, since it looked in good repair. Adam and I debated about whether or not a particular plant was poison oak. I was 100% certain and he wasn’t so sure. I am still 100% certain.
The road was closed due to rain damage over the spring
We passed a registration board with a place for campsite fees, and we dropped our cash into the slot, noting that fires are only allowed in campsite fire rings.
We continued to drop, and the ocean came into view. The flowers were in bloom and the bluffs situated over the ocean were stunning. We found a few campsites at Jones Beach, but one under some eucalyptus trees called our names. We dropped our packs and immediately began exploring that area, wading through the flowers and peeking over the cliffs to the small beaches below.
Our comfortable spot at the Jones Beach Campground
It was a special, magical place, and I was grateful that Adam took me out here. We decided to use the eucalyptus campsite as our base camp and do day hikes from there.
A lower shoulder of Chamisal Mountain, along the Lost Coast Trail
We set up our tents in the shade of the large trees as the sun decided to show itself. The bluffs along the ocean were a vibrant green as we breathed in the cool ocean air. We wandered along the grass, having lunch in the sun.
It was hard to take our eyes off of the ocean and the coast that ran so ruggedly north and south of us. Adam was off getting water from the creek when I saw some motion out of the corner of my eye.
We could not get enough of the views (Click to enlarge)
Much of our time was spent enjoying the views and just being there
A bear was walking along the trail through the bushes a few hundred feet to the north. It stood on its hind legs before it retreated back away from our campsite. Adam returned and I showed him a fuzzy picture.
There's a bear in this picture, center right - Very hard to see
Later, a large group of backpackers passed by us to camp further south along the coast. A father and son headed down to camp on Jones Beach below us.
More views along the Lost Coast and Jones Beach
We relocated our chairs to the edge of the bluff, overlooking Whale Gulch and just sat there, sometimes exclaiming at the beauty of what lay before us, and sometimes just in silence.
We sat there for hours, sometimes near the edge, sometimes higher on the bluff. Sometimes strolling around and sometimes sitting still. We watched the sun slowly dip behind the ocean and it was time to call it a day. After the flight and all the driving, this place was a welcome respite from the business of our lives. I was continually grateful that Adam chose to share this place with me.
Enjoying our spot on the bluff above Jones Beach. This would be where we cooked all of our meals
It was one of those afternoons spent completely absorbing a sense of place. It was wonderful.
A campsite with ocean views
Sunset from our bluff along the Lost Coast Trail
It doesn't get much better than this
The next morning, we got up and had our breakfasts on the bluff. We looked down and saw that the father and sun had created a fire ring, burning driftwood for warmth.
Morning ocean view from the tent
Breakfast at our bluff
We finished our coffees and headed out south along the Lost Coast Trail.
It was a sunny spring morning as we hiked along the rolling green coast. Lupines bloomed among the grass. We passed a gully with a creek at the bottom and looked up to see several turkey vultures drying out in the morning sun.
Turkey vultures drying off the morning dew
Beauty along the Lost Coast Trail
We passed the charming Streamside Campground, hearing a turkey on the meadow above us. Needle Rock stood fast against the endless surf.
We arrived at the Needle Rock Visitor Center and chatted with the rangers, a sweet elderly couple who had been watching over the park seasonally for years. While the husband was out working in the park, the wife led us around the visitor center building and surrounding area, telling us about the history of the park. There was a little hut that could be rented if the weather was bad.
Lost Coast Campground Map
After our visit, we strolled along the southern Lost Coast Trail again, noting some elk scat. The trail was overgrown in parts and flanked by blooming flowers. It was nice to hike with no hurry, carrying only our day packs.
The Lost Coast Trail near Flat Rock Creek
We explored the overgrown Orchard Camp, seeing a green snake in the grass while we had a snack on a secluded picnic table. We also passed the barely there Railroad Camp. The area was lush with growth and not highly used, as I was about to see why.
Enjoying some solitude at Orchard Camp
Not far along the trail, we came upon a beautiful valley with creeks and ferns. On the other side, we encountered a sizable herd of Roosevelt Elk. They stared at us as we approached. We waited a bit for some to get off the trail. But they were scattered all around us, on the hillsides and in the dense foliage.
Elk along the Lost Coast Trail
As we passed the large animals, we could see the Bear Harbor campsites, tucked just above Bear Harbor. These campsites were spectacular, within just a stone’s throw from a wide black sandy beach.
We saw the large group of backpackers from the day before. They had passed the established campsites so they could camp right on the beach and build a bonfire in the sand. Although my memory is hazy about the rules of camping in established campgrounds, I was sure that campfires were to only be in fire rings and gathering firewood was prohibited.
I shook off my annoyance and enjoyed the wide swath of black beach at the northern end of California.
Enjoying a stroll at Bear Harbor (Click to enlarge)
We took off our shoes and strolled along the shoreline, examining tide pools and listening to the crashing waves. We went off in our own directions, away from the campers, and roamed the black sand for two hours.
Exploring the tide pools at Bear Harbor
Since we still had 4 miles back to camp, we started making our way back up the lush trail. Along the way, the clouds came in and started sprinkling on us.
Natural Arches along the Lost Coast Trail
It was an enjoyable light rain as we continued along the trail, and we made ourselves at home in the Adirondack chairs on the porch of the visitor center. We shared some snacks as the rain quietly hissed down just beyond the porch roof. We joked about how I get rained upon on almost all of my trips. It was a nice moment of peace.
There are two turkeys up ahead
Turkeys in the grass
After an hour or so, we started heading back to our campsite. The clouds parted and the sun came out, shining golden on the green hills above the sea. We saw two turkeys as we slowly strolled along the hills, savoring the moments along the Lost Coast.
Strolling back to our camp along the Lost Coast Trail
We made it back to camp and started gathering our things to make dinner as the sun slowly made its way toward the water to the west.
The large backpacking group showed up and proceeded to put their tents on the grass between us and the ocean, within about 50 feet from our tents. There were plenty of established campsites, and I was slightly annoyed at the intrusion. I shook off my annoyance until they started digging into the grass, tearing up the sod and creating a pit in the dirt.
Fuming, I strode up to the group, and said, “Look, I guess I am OK with you camping outside all the campsites over here and putting your tents right next to ours, blocking our ocean views, but you will not have a campfire here. It’s not allowed and there are plenty of open fire rings in the campsites a few hundred feet over there. Now fill up that hole and put the grass back.”
They hunched like scolded puppies and did what I asked. As we were gathering our things to go make dinner, one of them came into our camp and asked, “Can we use your… firesite?” I gathered that he meant fire ring. I looked at all of them, knowing they would be staying up far later than us and replied, “There are 3 or 4 campsites with fire rings just over there.” I pointed to the sites to the north, within 1-2 minutes’ walk. “You can have fires over there.”
We gathered our dinner items and headed out to our spot at the edge of the bluff. We settled into our routine of making food and staring at the sky and the sea, listening to the breakers below. As we enjoyed our spot, we watched birds fly in and out of holes in the cliffs above the shore.
Our final evening at the bluff
To their credit, the other campers had their dinners and enjoyed a campfire at the furthest campsite from us.
We stayed out there until the sun dipped into the sea at around 8:30PM and headed into our tents, our heads filled with quiet and peace.
Our final sunset along the Lost Coast Trail
The News
For most of this part of the trip, I didn’t have cell coverage, so I would just turn my phone into Airplane Mode, to conserve battery. I would turn on my phone at night to send a quick goodnight to my wife and then fall quickly asleep.
I turned on my phone and sent her a text, “Good night, honey.”
All of a sudden, I got a text from my friend’s sister, stating, “Hi Derek, it’s ****. Can you please call me?”
My heart sank, why would the sister of my friend, who I’ve known since diapers, be texting me to call her? Did something happen? I worried about their mother, who had been having some health complications the year before. But she was out of the woods, wasn’t she?
I texted her back stating that there likely wasn’t enough cell service for a reliable call, but to please text me back.
Just then, my phone rang. My wife was calling. I was surprised that I was getting enough signal, since texts weren’t really getting through regularly.
She told me the bad news. The wife of my friend had passed away suddenly and unexpectedly earlier in the day. Stunned, I listened to the details and got off the phone to text my friend. I hesitated to text, since I didn't believe I had heard what I had just heard.
A text came through from my wife that confirmed the news. She had sent it earlier in the day and my phone just now received it. I texted my friend that I would be there for him.
I am not sure how long I sat crying at the roof of my tent, but I eventually fell asleep.
Adam and I had planned to drive home the next day and spend a full day in Sacramento, but I woke up very early and waited for him to get up, so I could tell him the news.
It was tough to say out loud, but of course he was understanding and we quickly gathered our things while having a quick breakfast and hiked up the hill back to the car.
We sped across the state, me on the phone when we had a signal, and changing my flight to land near my friend in another county a day early. My brother-in-law picked me up from the hotel and brought me to my friend’s house.
The next few weeks were a blur of grief. It took a lot of time to filter the beauty out of the trip that was so wrapped up in the sadness.
My friend is doing better, but one thing I learned is that one never gets over grief, you just learn to live with it.
As with any heartbreaking news, it reinforced my desire to enjoy the beautiful moments.
I think of that bluff on the edge of the world, the warm orange glow of the sun, the grass rippling in the breeze, the ocean crashing on the beach below, and the birds flitting about.
I think she would have loved to have seen this. And smile.
