That is how big the Dyerville Giant was as it crashed through the forest, tumbling to the ground. It was the really big one.Ī football field is 360 feet long. Taking photos of not the Dyerville Giant.Īnd, of course, obviously. “Right, well, you see, they’re all really big.”
The ranger laughed at us, “It’s the really big one.” “Hi there, we’re looking for the Dyerville Giant? Is there a sign that will say which one it is?” This has to be it, right? I mean, look at the size of that thing. Like ants walking between blades of grass (can you see wee little Dave in the left edge of that photo there?), we stumbled onto one felled tree after another. Now, the problem with redwood forests is that A) All the trees look huge, B) there are a lot of huge trees on the ground too, and C) there is absolutely no other foliage to help you realize that you are in fact walking in circles. We drove over to Founder’s Grove and started the (stupidly) easy hike. A 362-ft tree, locals believed a train had crashed or that there had been an earthquake when it fell.ĭave and I set out to find it. I’d recommend checking it out, mostly for its coverage of the fall of the Dyerville Giant. Towards the north end of the drive, you’ll see signs for a visitor’s center. This was a welcome bit of comic relief nestled between moments of existential awakening. You got your burl wood clocks and tables (Dave wouldn’t let me get any if you can believe that), your 9-ft tall carvings of big foot, your drive-through redwood trees. The road is littered with a wide variety of redwood paraphernalia kitsch. And this is a forest that we drove through for hours.įormerly an industrial logging access road, the Avenue of the Giants is still a commercial hot mess.
Each tree in the forest felt larger than anything we’d seen at Muir Woods. We felt like we could walk for an eternity on the needle-covered, rust-colored floor, a never-ending supply of behemoths. We drove nearly silently between the monoliths, stepping out roughly every 100 feet because this grove, this grove, was clearly the most beautiful. As it was late November, two days after Thanksgiving, the two-lane road was still and quiet. And Muir Woods has nothing - absolutely nothing - on the magestic Avenue of the Giants. Muir Woods is famous for its redwood trees. We woke up to the sight of damp, frosted redwood trees peeking through the white fog, and we set off for the Avenue of the Giants, just 9 miles away. What a refuge from the chilly, inhospitable night. A wood paneled pub behind the reception desk served up Humboldt Fog cheese and warm bread pudding. Fireplaces roared as couples milled around the Victorian velvet couches with mugs of warm drinks children played board games on the antique rugs. Just a day after Thanksgiving and the Inn was already awash in Christmas trees, garland, and wreaths. You’re kinda just waking for the twins to show up. We hadn’t seen one in over an hour.Ĭreeping though the fog into the looming, English-Tudor Benbow Inn was not unlike walking into a Steven King novel. We only managed to find the Benbow Inn because, well, it was a building. Remember how I was currently 7 months pregnant? I was 7 months pregnant. Cars passing us on the left appeared as glowing white ghosts that disappeared into the darkness. Our headlights would catch brief glimpses of bark before we had to maneuver out of the way.
We swerved along Rt 1, an S-shaped two-lane highway built between massive redwood trees. Soon, we were encased in a black cloud of coastal fog. We headed inland towards Garberville as the sun plummeted behind us into the fog line. We stopped for coffee and pastries in Healdsburg, hot apple cider at roadside apple orchard stands, a fancy lunch in seaside Mendocino (oh my God that town), and ice cream in Fort Bragg. Hi! Remember that time that I was all, “I’ll just bang out this Northern CA road trip all lickety split while the baby’s sleeping.” Oh, HA ha ha! Ha! One of you told the baby, didn’t you?Īfter our night at Safari West, Dave and I headed to the Mendocino County coast.
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