Honeymoon Days 13-14: Trinidad

My yin and I left Eugene and headed south to California, detouring along the way to check out Crater Lake National Park. Upon arrival, we were shocked to see that snow was still up to the second story of the visitor center:

For this reason, we had to use the "snow tunnel" to get inside:

Undaunted, we drove the half mile of snow-plowed road along the edge of the lake. It was formed by a volcanic explosion long ago and has since filled with remarkable clean, pure water.

my yin in front of said clean, pure water

According to the information desk, scientists study this water as a means to observing the effects of pollution and environmental change. It also provides an ample opportunity for goofy self-portraits. In this one, for example, I look like the Unabomber:

Continuing on, we finally reached California:

As we headed further down the Redwood Highway, we discovered bears adorning the bridges, reconfirming my concerns regarding the likelihood of being eaten on my honeymoon:

bridge over the Klamath River

We came to the Redwood Forests:

And attempted to hug one of these impossibly large trees:

During our time in Northern California, I found myself struggling time and again to capture the majestic immensity of these trees, trying a variety of angles:

And perspectives:

And even climbing up into them so I could get a feel for them:

It was no use, though, and suffice to say that these plants provide one with as humbling an experience imaginable. They can survive fires, earthquakes, and lightning strikes; and it seems that about the only thing that can bring down a redwood is a human being.

But this is (not) beside the point.

The point is that in Trinidad is an odd little town in Humboldt County, which (as far as I could tell) is the marijuana farming capital of California. The left coast is famous for its progressive politics and policies, and generally I align myself with these ideas. Their was a strange tenor to Humboldt County, however, like some remnant of the Sixties had washed ashore and then faded in the California sun. Even the street signs seemed to know this:

We stayed with my yin's old neighbor from Brooklyn, who lives a short walk from a bluff overlooking the Pacific:

my yin and her friend Stephanie

She also had this groovy dog named Tai:

Tai looking up at us on the bluff

This funky home:

And this phenomenal kid:

Il s'appelle Lonnie.

For me, meeting Lonnie was the highlight of Trinidad, and since his mother had a deadline for the local newspaper, my yin and I were able to spend a day hanging out with him. We took a hike in Prairie Cree State Park's "Fern Canyon":

And made rock sculptures on the beach:

the art

and the artist

My yin and I struggled to keep up with Lonnie, and we marveled at the ease with which this 12-year old was able to scramble over the most intimidating of obstacles without thought of hesitation:

my yin, Lonnie, and a tree blocking our path

While he sped ahead, my yin and I wondered what happens to humans as we age. Children are fearless and confident, and yet, as we grow older, we often become less sure of our footing. Children, on the other hand, are not so afraid of striking out:

We even got to see Lonnie's Little League game.

The loss of fearlessness, however, seems to be offset by the gift for introspection:

my yin, the beach, perfection