CA/OR: The Redwoods Are Really, Really Big

After our triumphant, muddy moment in Napa, we hit the road in search of something larger than our stomachs. Behold, the Redwoods.



We had many, many opportunities to buy things that had been carved with chainsaws.
They also sold weapons.
We took the Avenue of the Giants.
This fallen tree was no match for us.

In Arcata, Mike mailed his speeding ticket.
Behold, A Tourist Trap.

I suppose we could have warned the boy, but what fun would that have been?

This particular tree's mystery was that it had grown upside-down. Here, Mike tries his luck.
We were in California for a long, long time. Those are driving muscles.

Mike punches the clouds.
In Oregon, the beaches were gray and lovely.

But that didn't mean that Mike would stop getting work calls.

The sign says something along the lines of "Look for elk here. They'll be here, really." They weren't.

But they were checking out an abandoned motel about a half-mile down the road.

The way I see it, elk would be more attracted to other elk than yet another car full of tourists. Here, I become an elk. You can tell their interest is piqued.

The Oregon coast is punctuated with bridges like this one. They cross things. Rivers, for example.

We stopped in Bandon for lunch. Both Mike and I kept calling it 'Brandon,' which I would like to blame on Jason Priestly.

We knew what was coming.

Listen, I know we just had that fried chicken. We're on vacation, okay?

Across the street from the restaurant, there was a little chocolate shop. I was already paying for my goodies when I noticed that Satan* had already marked the place as her own.

So far so good, Oregon. Next stop, Portland. More donuts and special guest stars on the menu.

love
E + M

*The picture has a bit of a glare, so in case it isn't clear, the woman on the right is Rachael Ray.