As we approached the end of our stay in Florence, the dense sea mist continued to rise and mingle with the grey drizzle, draping a big wet blanket over us. We were forced to acknowledge that we were in the midst of the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, and of course the endless rain, making it a typical Autumn in Oregon. We embraced it. It made a happy change from the beating heat of the Arizona desert that we had endured for two decades and more.

The colors of Fall were all around us. The leaves fell from the skeletal branches of the trees surrounding us at the campsite, bright, burnt oranges, sunny yellows, mottled greens and chestnut browns carpeting the ground. If we were lucky enough to catch a leaf as it danced and helicoptered to the ground, we held it close to our hearts and made a wish. We could smell the campfires of our neighbors and it prompted us to make our own fire. . We stood with glazed eyes watching the blaze glow in the half light, listening to the spitting flames lick at the wet logs, watching our breath make its own morning mist with every deep sigh, sinking our hands into the pouches of our hoodies. We started thinking about soups and stews for dinner. Every season has its own treasures.

With Henry settled for the day sorting out his latest Pokemon cards that he had picked up at Fred Mayer, Kim and I set out to find Sweet Creek Falls, a famed local beauty spot, recommended to us by the locals in town.

We followed the twists and turns of the Siuslaw River, eerie in the mist. We spied a fairy tale Hansel and Gretel wooden cottage, smoke rising from a stone chimney, a wrap around porch with weathered adirondack chairs positioned for the best view of the river, and a little jetty with a gently bobbing boat, with oars at the ready, at the bottom of the garden. We spotted an elk or two raise their heads as we drove by, lazily watching us from the grassy banks of the river. There was hardly any traffic and we drove in silence enjoying the stillness of the day.

We made a sharp right turn and drove about ten miles or so following Sweet Creek to reach the signposted trailhead.

Well, words cannot adequately describe the quintessential Autumnal scene before us. The colors of the leaves carpeting the path, the waters of the creek with the swirling pools and gentle falls, the surrounding woodlands, dark and deep with promises to keep, was simply idyllic. 

I hope the photos convey the beauty of the scene. We really need Willy Wonka smell-o-vision so we can close our eyes and fully inhale the woodsy smells of the dripping, damp ferns, the tiny lichens and impossibly green mosses, fallen branches, leaves mulched into the muddy ground and the fresh scent of the sweet creek. A true sensory experience.

We walked a five mile round trip on leaf littered pathways, zig-zagging wooden bridges and slick river banks. It was heavenly!

​Breathe it in!

The awe-inspiring Oregon coastline continues to surprise.

Today we headed even further north, hitting central Oregon and Cape Perpetua. The cape was given its name by the British explorer, Captain James Cook, who first saw the headland in 1778 and named it after St. Perpetua the patron saint of peace, perfection and motherhood. 

Inland there were dense forests of impossibly tall Ponderosa Pines, Western Hemlocks and mature Douglas Firs. Low lying wizened Sitka Spruce, shaped and gnarled by high winds and salty sea spray, clung to the bluffs on the towering 800 foot headland jutting out into the Pacific.

The Cape Perpetua Scenic Area covers over 2500 acres of coastal habitat. We were particularly interested in checking out the marine reserve made up of reefs, rock pools, chasms, caves, beaches and unusual rock formations.

To begin, we headed toward's the parking lot at The Devil's Churn. There was a great viewing platform to the north of the lot. We had timed it to perfection as the waves were relentlessly rolling into the deep, narrow chasm below, creating a dramatic churning effect in the water. The swelling waves took on the form of a whipped vanilla milkshake, all milky and frothy, as they surged up the channel, crashing chaotically against the sides of the steep rocks in all directions. The chasm probably started out as a narrow fissure in the volcanic basalt bedrock, or perhaps a collapsed lava tube, and then the violent power of the ocean, terrifying and majestic, pounded its way through, creating a crack in the rocks that could lead down to the Devil himself. We could clearly see how The Devil's Churn got its name. 

We then made our way on the trail down to the lower ledges to get a closer look where we could not only see the strength of the battering ocean against the rocks, but taste the salt in the spray, hear the rolling roar of the waves, and feel the curling swirls of air displaced by the churning water. It was dark down there and a little scary being that close to the untamed power of nature.

We continued round the edge of the opening of the chasm where it met the Pacific and suddenly there were calmer waters and huge rock pools to explore. We found large green sea anemones, ochre starfish, urchins and sea slugs. It was astonishing how the raging chasm was adjacent to the peaceful pools.

Kim stayed to watch the churn a little longer and Henry and I continued to play in the pools. Henry was keeping a beady eye on me and any potential sneaker waves after the Ophir Beach fiasco. He was being very careful and very protective. Very sweet.

Eventually Henry headed off to find Kim and we all lost track of each other. We eventually met up by the truck and headed into Yachats, smack dab in the middle of the Cape.

Yachats was a charming gem of a town. The name Yachats, pronounced Yah-hots, comes from the local native Siletz language and means "dark water at the foot of the mountain." Apt! We parked just past the cove, by a huge whale tail sculpture, on the side of the road. 

We took a leisurely walk through town in the sunshine, stopping at the Little Log Church built in the 1920's. It was undergoing some renovations and the museum was closed so we kept walking, mooching around the shops, enjoying all the sculptures of multicolored sea lions on every block corner. There was fantastic rock, crystal and gem store that took a lot longer to explore. Eventually it was time for lunch and we ate at a lovely family owned diner. 

After lunch we spent time at Thor's Well, Cook's Chasm and The Spouting Horn. Back on the rugged, rocky shoreline, the ocean was throwing up huge waves of spray as it hit the rocks and pools. There were many gullies and chasms slicing through the rocks where the ocean boomed into underwater caves. It was a wild and dramatic landscape. Literally breathtaking.

We spotted Thor's Well, a sinkhole-like feature where the ocean surged beneath the rocks and found its way up and out of a bottomless bowl in the rocks. Every surge and spatter of the rhythmic ocean making its way over and under was spectacular. I practiced taking photos on my iPhone using long exposure to create a flowy effect. I love playing with photos like this.

Nearby was Cook's Chasm, named after the British explorer, another deep narrow gully, but much shorter and without the deep, gorge-like sides of Devil's Churn. The chasm flowed under the concrete arches of Cook's Chasm Bridge, allowing the trust US101 Highway to wind its way through the lower rocky ledges of the cape.

The huge waves rolling into Cook's Chasm carved underwater caves out of the basalt rocks. We could hear the water roaring and reverberating, pounding and crashing with echoing booms. A smallish hole in the rocks above the underwater caves created an outlet for the pressure below, creating a geyser-like fountain of sea spray, like a pressure cooker releasing steam. In my imagination it was a fire-breathing dragon snorting sleepy smoke out of its nostril while curled up in its subterranean cave. Like Smaug. It is known locally as The Spouting Horn.

We stayed for a long time and enjoyed being hammered by the forces of nature.

We began to lose light so we hiked back up to the truck and set off back to the Trailer.

What a phenomenal, memorable day!

The Prehistoric Gardens on the US101 between Gold Beach and Port Orford was first established as a tourist attraction in 1955 when 23 life size dinosaurs were sculpted and then homed in the most beautiful ancient woodland. 

It was a misty morning when we arrived and there was not another soul in sight as we were greeted by a huge T-Rex in the car park. Nestled in a valley pocket and protected from the elements, the vast ecosystem of temperate rainforest appears to flourish in a tropical, prehistoric fashion.

The garden itself was made up of huge ancient trees, many over 300 years old, with an undergrowth of lush ferns, moss covered rocks, common skunk cabbage with the most enormous leaves, and prehistoric algae clinging on for dear life wherever it could find purchase. The early morning light lazily blinked its way through the mist and the trees.

A gentle walk around the hushed garden was magical. It cast its morning spell over us as we wandered through the garden to find one colorful dinosaur after another. It was glorious. I can't quite express how lovely and perfect this mystical morning stroll around the Prehistoric Garden was for us all. 

Chasing waterfalls in Trinidad, California, was a joy!

We found leaves as big as your head with the most amazing colors of mustard yellows, rusty browns, lime greens and burnt oranges. The idyllic scenery was complete with the gently flowing waterfalls. Spectacular!

We puddled about in the water, hugged lots of trees and made a wish every time we caught a dancing leaf.

We are definitely seeing the change from Summer to Autumn. Feeling the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness.

We had passed by The Trees Of Mystery, just outside Klamath in the far north of California, on our way up Highway 101 to get to Crescent City. You could not miss the giant fibreglass statues of Paul Bunyan and his beloved pet, Babe the Blue Ox standing in the well manicured gardens of the car park to this roadside attraction.
​
We were excited to visit. When we arrived, we took our time walking around the huge statues and acquainting ourselves with the story of Paul Bunyan, the famed giant, plaid-jacketed, big booted, lumbering lumberjack of North American folklore, and his pet Blue Ox, Babe.

It was fitting that Paul Bunyan and Babe stood there welcoming us to the Trees of Mystery as the history and traditions of logging and particularly the carving of large hunks of wood into works of art was told as we walked along the interpretative trails.

I was actually familiar with Paul Bunyan. In the movie Fargo, a carved, rugged statue of him is glimpsed covered in snow as the murderers pass through the North Dakota town in the dead of winter. In fact I can't think of Paul Bunyan without also thinking of one of my absolute favorite actresses, Frances McDormand, in her Oscar winning role as Marge Gunderson in the movie.

You betcha!

I am also familiar with the iconic "Muffler Men" molded out of fiberglass, inspired by Paul Bunyan, that stand in gas station forecourts along my beloved Route 66 and other slightly decrepit byways in North America. Originally, the first 'Muffler Man" was created to carry an axe, appropriate for Paul Bunyan, but later the axe was replaced with the giant fiberglass man holding a muffler, tire, huge wrench or some other car related object as an advertisement to draw customers off the road to take a break from their journey, stop for some food and for some car maintenance. You can read more about the "Muffler Men" in my Route 66 photographic journey through Arizona.  You may need to scroll down until you arrive at the Flagstaff photos and the pics of the giant men. Check it out here.

Once upon a time the original folk tales Of Paul Bunyan began with American loggers sharing exaggerated stories around cosy campfires of a giant axman who could fell tall trees with a single chop. Their tales became embedded in to local lore, bringing awe and appreciation to the hard logging work they did across America, with their own sweat, spit and bare hands.

The loggers' stories of Paul Bunyan, strong and handsome with a chiseled jawline, over seven feet tall, with a stride of seven feet in length, striding across the plains, through the forests, doing the work of many were passed down, mouth to mouth, in the honored tradition of folk tales. According to their stories Paul Bunyan carved the Grand Canyon with his axe, created the Great Lakes as a personal drinking bowl for Babe, and if you keep a careful watch, you might be lucky enough to see Paul Bunyan riding Babe like a cowboy. Oh yeah!

At 49 feet high, the statue of Paul Bunyan at the Trees of Mystery is the tallest statue of the folklore hero in America. The stuff of legends! 

We made our way to the trails and spent a happy day meandering through the wide variety of trees, almost like a tree exhibition, crowded together for our enjoyment. One of my favorites was the ancient giant Redwood named the Brotherhood Tree.  It is one of the largest and oldest living things on the planet. It was named in hope for the brotherhood of man. It is over 2000 years old, 19 feet in diameter, 60 feet in circumference and 297 feet tall. Wow! We were awestruck standing next to a living entity that had been growing for much of recorded human history. We also enjoyed the Candelabra Tree, Elephant Tree and Cathedral Tree. 

Henry spotted Bigfoot, banana slugs and a giant mosquito.

I loved the "I love you" sign.

We had enormous fun bouncing our way along the 100 feet high aerial netted suspension bridges and platforms in the canopy of the Redwoods.  Of course Henry and Kim jumped as high and hard as they could (as if they were in a lift!) on the ropey bridges to make us all jiggle and giggle. Even the kids were laughing at us! Fun!

Henry grabbed my phone and took these lovely, flattering shots. Anyone else have a family member who takes daft pics?

Next we headed for the Skytrail where we took a gondola up the forested hillside, about 1/3 of a mile and 1,570 feet up, through the tallest of trees with a spectacular view at the top where you could see the Pacific Ocean glinting in the distance and incredible views of the Klamath River and back country. At the summit there was an observation deck called Ted's Ridge, where we took in the panoramic vistas.

We finished the day touring the most amazing Native North American Museum. After the Heard Museum in Phoenix, this has to be my favorite museum of tribal artifacts. It was truly incredible. More about the museum in my next blog post.

​This was a memorable day and once again, the trees were the stars.

Kim took this incredible photo of me and Henry walking in amongst the giant Redwoods on the Stout Grove Trail in the Jedediah Smith State Park.

​What an experience!

After an unplanned detour due to fires, we headed to our eighth stop on our Grand Adventure, Crescent City, California. On the way there, Henry began reading the reviews of the site we had booked and learned there had been several thefts, break-ins and some vandalism reported. So, on the fly, we cancelled that site and booked a new site, while we driving towards Eureka. Very last minute! Thankfully we hit the jackpot with Lighthouse Cove RV Park in Crescent City. It was literally right on the beach and the views of the bay and the lighthouse were fab.

​Still in California, but right on the border with Oregon, our plan was to explore the Redwoods National and State Parks in the region.

Henry adored the site and spent most of his afternoons on the beach on his phone chatting with friends, picking up rocks and shells and watching the seals surf in the waves, so close to shore you could see their dark pool-like eyes, twitching whiskers and smiley faces. I am so glad we changed sites and stayed on the beach instead.

We set off to explore the town of Crescent City, basically to find a launderette and a grocery store. It was all over very quickly as the town was tiny. The sea front road to the lighthouse was all torn up due to road work so we bypassed that and meandered around the streets. We found a Safeway and I spotted a tiny movie theater next door to it, which I stored in my memory as I knew the new Taylor Swift Eras Tour Movie was coming out soon.

I am a total Swiftie!

There are three waterfalls on the McCloud River by the small town of McCloud, California; McCloud Lower Falls, McCloud Middle Falls and McCloud Upper Falls.

After getting lost in the car park at the Lower Falls Trailhead which is almost ridiculously impossible to do, and then walking a good mile in the wrong direction, we finally made it back to where we started and found the trailhead to the Lower Falls, a couple of steps away.

Kim and Henry wish for me to put in a disclaimer here...

I solemnly swear that I was up to no good.  It was me, Laura Barnes, and me alone, that led us in the wrong direction. Henry clearly said he could hear the waterfalls in the opposite direction. Kim clearly said he knew we were going in the wrong direction. Alrighty then. Mischief managed.

At the Lower Falls the McCloud River tumbled through moss covered rocks, ferns, and overhanging trees in a beautiful picturesque-picnic setting, cascading into a deep pool of clear water where we could see the fish swimming in shoals. A fisherman stood on the banks and we saw him catch a flip-flopping rainbow trout that was as big as his forearm. Even from the distance we were standing we could see the trout's pink and green iridescent coloring and its silvery underbelly. The fisherman immediately packed up and left, happy with his catch. Henry had fun dodging all the bees as there must have been a hive nearby. He is paranoid about bees following him, so Kim is always tickling him on the back of his neck with a long stick and frequently makes buzzing noises. Family fun!

Next stop, further upstream, was the Middle Falls. The cascading water from the narrowing river brought the drama! The mist created lots of rainbows in the air which added to the magical atmosphere. We hiked down to the bottom of the tall falls and we had fun playing in the pools and clambering over rocks to get a better view. Not so many bees at the Middle Falls but plenty of dragonflies!

Lastly we stopped at McCloud Upper Falls, at 50 feet, the tallest of the three waterfalls. It was a hidden gem. With a single sleek drop, splashing into a horseshoe shaped pool, it felt private and intimate, a natural wonderland in the heart of the Shasta-Trinity Forest. We hiked down the river and around the rim through the fragrant pine forest, catching glimpses of the pristine wilderness beyond.

Although these waterfalls are not protected in an official Californian State Park, they. absolutely should be. The three waterfalls were stunning!