Days 13-14: Crater Lake, Redwoods

Ed: Written Sat. June 6th. Sorry for the lack of pictures, it's been a while since we've found a reliable, high bandwidth Internet connection.

Taking a leisurely drive down Highway 1, along the California coast towards San Francisco. As it turned out, our original schedule was wildly optimistic, but the adjustment we made meant that we actually got to stop at all our destinations.

We arrived at Crater Lake on Thursday night, far too late at night, but far too early in the season. Thanks to a combination of rainstorms, traffic jams in Portland, and an eerie fog on the road, we arrived at midnight. Fortunately, the combination of snow and moonlight made it possible to navigate, but we couldn’t find any campgrounds that were opened. As a result, we spent another night like hobos, sleeping out in the car in the visitor’s parking lot (thus also, fulfilling Ricardo’s fondest fantasy). The following morning, we awoke in a winter wonderland. As the park ranger explained, Crater Lake is actually the result of a collapsed volcano, and sits high in the mountain, where the Pacific rain becomes snow. Half of the road around the lake had not even been cleared yet; everywhere else, there were snowdrifts up to ten feet high on the side of the road. We drove around the lake rim for a bit, taking pictures of the breathtaking lake view, but sadly unable to make any hikes whatsoever.

Our visit to the Redwoods was a bit rushed. Inclement weather and a poorly chosen route through Oregon meant we arrived late in the evening. The desire to leave early for San Francisco meant we had to wake up early to spend any time there at all. There was some debate about whether to spend the night camping or in the car again (to which I argued that this was a camping trip, not a “sleeping in the car” trip); fortunately, the motion prevailed and we spent a pleasant night in a tent on the grass. The following morning, we decided to hike the Coastal Trail. The contrast between Redwoods and Crater Lake could not have been more striking: in one day, we went from 10-foot snowdrifts, to humid, semi-tropical forest with trees big enough to drive through.

I couldn’t manage to fit an entire redwood into a picture, and I doubt that words could really capture their magnitude either. Trees west of the Rockies were noticeably bigger, but these were in a league all of their own. There was one tree which had a burnt out hollow big enough to house a family, and was still alive hundreds of feet above. It looked less like we were in a forest then in a house built by giants, with thick curtains of moss draped from every surface. We had the distinct feeling that we were in a world of giants, and that they had just stepped out for a few minutes.