You know how it is when you move to a new place, and you tell yourself that you’re going to get out and explore all the sights and attractions the area has to offer . . . and then life takes over and you just don’t get around to it? Well, I’ve been here in Southern Oregon for nearly a year now, and have found (or made) little time for checking out all the natural and cultural wonders within a two-hour drive of my new home. It took a short visit from our daughter, Jenny, who lives in and attends school in Chicago, to get us beyond the Rogue Valley this past week. Like me, Jenny loves the ocean and visiting the coast (Lake Michigan just doesn’t cut it for her, fine as it is). It had been well over a year since her last trip to the Pacific Ocean, so she asked that we take a day trip to the closest beach towns to us, Crescent City, Calif., and Brookings, Ore. Since we were in the midst of a heat wave (we escaped on a day that reached a record-high 109 in the valley here), we readily agreed, as the weather on the coast was cloudy and a refreshing 65 degrees. The hot weather and relentlessly sunny skies stayed with us well after we crossed the Oregon-California border and dropped over the Coast Range crest. Our route, along US Highway 199, was primarily a two-lane highway which in California takes a rather twisty route following the Smith River. At some point the mostly pine forest gave way to a mix of conifers and deciduous trees. When we stopped for a flagger at a construction site in a rocky gorge next to the river, we finally rolled down the windows and realized that the air was delightfully cool and fresh—AHHHH! Not much further on, the road leveled out as we neared the coast, but it continued to twist and turn, this time amongst the trunks of increasingly large coast redwoods. Jenny was eager to get some photos of the trees to show her Midwestern friends back at school, so we pulled over at a turnout which provided access to the Reed-Simpson Grove. A one-mile loop trail here, in the midst of the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park, allows one to quickly leave traffic noise behind and become enveloped by the awe-inspiring wonder of these giants. Although we had intended to venture only a short way down the path, the sight of the next enormous or multi-trunked specimen enticed us on. Words and pictures don’t do justice; I believe, like most such places, one must actually stand in its presence and absorb it through every sense to get the full impact of this timeless place. I can tell you that the trunks of some of these behemoths would require half-a-dozen people or more, hands linked, to encircle their bases, and that one grows dizzy following the spiraling furrows of bark as they twist upwards to the sun-filtering canopy far above. The forest floor is quiet, our footsteps muffled by a deep, spongy layer of decaying bark and needles. The soothing sough of a slight breeze, moving through the branches above, surrounds us like a benediction, and I find myself breathing deeply and every muscle relaxing into the peacefulness of this natural cathedral. After some unmarked span of time, we slowly made our way back to the car and continued on our way. Although our goal that day was the coast, the highlight of the trip was that unplanned and unexpected respite among the redwoods. –Patty Vanikiotis, proofreader