Holy grail: a trip to Redwood National Park

PSA Journal, May, 2004 by Robert Nguyen

Two-hundred million years ago, in the Jurassic era the giants reigned: dinosaurs and redwoods. The dinosaurs vanished, but the redwoods survived. Their remnants are now found only in California and the tall coastal variety only in the narrow stretch from the southern Oregon border to San Francisco, mostly around Crescent City in the Redwood National Park, a small parcel of just a few square miles. Because of the unrivaled quality of their lumber, the redwoods had to endure an intensely destructive logging industry. The threat to their very survival inspired one of the nation's greatest movements to preserve them.

The California northern coastline offers an ideal condition for these earth's tallest trees: a rich soil, a temperate climate. and abundant rainfall in winter. There is no rain during the long California summer, but the billowing fog drifts through the towering trees supplying the needed moisture while awaiting the next winter rain. I can clearly visualize the images of fragile rhododendrons among the commanding trunks of giant Jurassic Redwood immersed in the dense fog. The images of the redwoods evoke a sense of towering strength, serenity, and mysticism. To all who behold them, they evoke superlative and overwhelming, primeval emotions.

With this mindset we started out our expedition going back to the Jurassic time to see and photograph the giants. Anticipation! Eleven hours of struggle through the California asphalt jungle took us to our photographic destination. As we approached Crescent City, we started to spot the rhododendrons ("rhodies") along the roadside, reassuring ourselves that we were in for a visual delight. Everything was green, which was quite a change from southern California where there is mostly "golden" grass for a good part of each year. We felt refreshed.

Eager to see the rhodies, we started to corner everyone we met to get information--the waitress, the gas station attendant, local residents and finally the authority.., the lady at the information center of Redwood National Park. To our amazement, every one looked at us with blank eyes: rhodies? I don't know! It was first unbelievable and bewildering that no one even seemed aware of these famous flowers that we had read and heard of. Then the disappointment gave way to curiosity and finally, we found it comical. But we didn't give up looking for these "fragile flowers among the commanding redwood trunks, immersed in time billowing fog," that by this time has become our "holy grail."

Before settling for the night we enjoyed our first sunset shooting the beautiful lighthouse of Crescent City. The sun was dimmed and blurred behind the fog. There was no palm tree silhouette as in Hawaii and no flock of gulls as in southern California, but it was no less dramatic and romantic. The beauty of the dynamic coastline is unsurpassed. A small family was having a picnic and warming themselves around a campfire at the beach. A couple of lovers were holding hands watching the setting sun. I thought to myself: quite an idyllic place.

The next morning we set out early in search of our "holy grail." It was still eluding us.

No one seemed to be aware that they were living among these unique things on earth. That reminded me about some people who lived on the edge of the Yosemite National Park all their lives and never thought of driving one hour to see this wonder. One takes good things for granted when they are so readily available. We started shooting the beautiful Jed Smith River with its artful rock formations, the colorful lichen and the guitar player on top of a big rock--a lone sound in the silence of the wilderness. We readily accepted the failure of our search when, like a mirage, the rhodies appeared ... one small bush, then two, then a whole grove. Not quite what we had in mind--no billowing fog--but rhodies and towering redwoods nevertheless. The fragile rhododendrons against the captivating composition of the moss background looked like a magnificent Zen painting of time past. The roadsides were decorated with exotic mushrooms and the dainty tiger lilies. A black bear surprised us on a side road. It was too far to get a decent picture, but it was great seeing "my" first wild bear.

That evening we were treated with elk galore. No baby elk, as we would hope to see in spring, but the sight of bull elk with their reborn, velvety horns were the signs of spring renewal. The elk were wild and the warnings were everywhere. The huge elk came really close and were wandering around the captive people in the "car-cages." I got all the close-ups I wished. There was no fierce fight of the bulls for the possession of harems. The cows were left alone. Quietly I was planning to come back in the fall when the white birch turns to gold and the bulls would be engorged with testosterone and busy protecting the cows from rivals or maybe next spring, when "the fog is billowing over the fragile rhodies ..."

Dr. Robert Nguyen

Madera, CA