Among the Giants

Last night we encountered several lost Garberville souls.  Some muttered to themselves.  An unsteady young man asked for money for flashlight batteries.  He accepted instead a half loaf of fresh bread.

This morning we looked around the rainy town.  It’s only a few streets wide.

We followed Locust Street past a “Dead End” sign.  The end was dead, but not as we expected.

“White bronze” (zinc) monuments look new after almost 150 years.
More recent stone and brick monuments already are crumbling.

Nothing beats a cemetery for giving us perspective.  Nothing made by humans, anyway.

But nature is the best teacher.  If geology and astronomy are too remote to keep you humble, how about redwood trees?

This postcard photo hints at the scale. Note the figure in the lower right corner.

Here I am, sitting on a redwood burl, atop Jeffrey’s hunter’s vest so I’m easier to spot.

Some of these trees are hundreds of feet tall, thousands of years old.
Same tree. Jeffrey stood back for this one. See me at the base?
You can’t tell from the selfie, but the tree trunk is wider than Jeffrey is tall.

Redwood trees are big.  They last.  We are small.  We don’t.

We stopped to see exhibits on local ecology and history.  A featured item was the restoration of Charles Kellogg’s 1917 Travel-Log, a motor home made from a hollow redwood mounted on a 1914 Nash truck.

Rachel and Debbie work at the visitors’ center.


Jeffrey mentioned the Ride.  Rachel and Debbie knew of injustices such as sending children to immigration court without a lawyer, but didn’t know the reasons.  Now they understand.

Our new friends said that today would be relatively safe for biking because heavy rain keeps tourists off the scenic road.  They were right.  We pedaled 11 miles.  Only 3 cars and one big truck overtook us (politely and gently).

Flooding kept us from one redwood site . . .
. . . but in 1964 it was worse.
Rounding a bend on the Avenue of the Giants.
The South Fork of the Eel River, swollen with rain . . .
. . . we kept our distance.

Among our few fellow travelers today were Tom and Teri from Cincinnati.

L to R: Tom, Teri.

Tom is an avid cyclist.  He said Cincinnati is on the longest paved bike path in the USA: 150 miles.  Teri is an operating room nurse who took a keen interest in the x-ray on our fairing of Jeffrey’s broken leg.  They listened to Jeffrey describe Americans’ sympathy for asylum applicants who just want a fair opportunity to present their cases.  They support the goals of the IWC and of Human Rights First.

Jeffrey would have pedaled us farther, but the unrelenting rain had started to penetrate his clothes.  We motored north through flood and fog, grateful that when we had to backtrack between Redcrest and Pepperwood . . .

. . . we were under a self-propelled roof.

We met Cameo in Eureka.  She supports a generous asylum policy.

Californians lead our country in many ways: socially, politically, economically.  We should follow their example, Cameo’s example, in immigration attitudes too.

5 thoughts on “Among the Giants

  1. Incredible photos of the redwoods! I hope I get to see them someday! More rain…but thankfully no danger to Joey and Jeffrey…


  2. Hi Jeffrey,
    You’re doing important work. Hope the ride is going brilliantly.
    Nothing but best wishes,
    Clyde Haberman


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