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As night engulfed me, I pushed on toward
Crescent City. The rain began to pound and the trees were growing
taller. I realized that the night was hiding so many wonderful
sites, I decided to find a motel and continue at dawn. Garberville
proved a nice respite and there was an Italian deli still open that
had the most wonderful folk band playing and eggplant
parmesan to die for. Alas, I didn't stay to listen to the artists as
I was on a mission. Besides, I needed to see my friends Craig and
Anne and already was running two days late. Back to the motel to eat
quickly and download the day's shots. NEXT |
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Morning greeted me with a thick blanket of
fog, so I didn't rush out at dawn, but slept in until 7 a.m.
OK, I really need to get going as the morning is rapidly
disappearing and I
am still 100 miles south of my destination. My trusty van and I push
onward. OCEAN, wow, first time seeing the ocean this trip
and I have just driven north of the Arcata border. A short stop, oops, I learned later that this
stop caused some spots to appear on my photos. I cleaned and cleaned
the lenses and later learned that changing lenses needs to be
carefully done, and nowhere near dust or salt spray. The sensor inside
the camera is very sensitive. A mistake I hope all of you who have
such wonderful digital devices heed. My camera now has to be sent in
for professional cleaning as the salt spray won't come off with the
sensor cleaning function.
Onward
and northward, so glad to have stopped overnight as the morning sky reveals the
majesty of the coast redwoods. These towering remnants of ancient
times bear so many varieties of lichen and moss within the nooks and
crannies of their furrowed bark, feel like hugging a tree. I drove slowly through the Avenue
of the Giants which parallels Hwy. 101.
An intriguing roadside sign had me detour towards an elk viewing
area at Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park. Surely the elk would be
too far away and this would be a waste of
time thought I. Oh, I see one nestled deep in the grass, not much of
a photo opportunity, but it will have to do. Continuing to follow
the signs, a sight to behold, dozens of young bull elk and the
matron herd are right at the picnic ground. The second large
ungulate of my adventure! I took several dozen shots, but felt a
little disappointed that there were no large bulls with magnificent
racks of antlers. Remembering my time as a volunteer at the Tule Elk
Reserve, I know that bull elk form bachelor herds, so on my
way back to the highway, I scrutinized the landscape hoping to find
the 'guys'. There! At the very north end of the meadow, hunkered
down in the grass ten bulls dozed lazily. I drove as close as I
could, then quietly but obviously walked toward the herd,
(remembering as well that the bulls can have a nasty territorial
disposition), at the ready to dash into the brush just in case they
decided to charge. Now, I have photographs of Roosevelt
Elk to add to my ever growing photo journal.
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