During the last ice age literally 100s of glaciers moved through this area. Mountains have been sliced and gouged from every direction. The end result is steep mountain sides on pyramid shaped peaks and long narrow ridges or spines interspaced with broad U-shaped valleys. It is another fine example of the absolute raw power of nature. Pretty humbling. The ecology of the area is shaped by the remaining glaciers and the constant supply of fresh water that they supply. Not forever though!

The city traffic sucks but there is some pretty cool stuff to do.
Yosemite is magnificent. My personal favorite beautiful place so far.
They win hands down for the most impressive trees.
Amazing rugged coastlines.
Wow, there are a lot of Murres. It is a penguin-looking bird that roosts on off shore rocks in the 10,000s. It looks like the surface is crawling.
Everything is expensive.
Three months south to north and we still skipped a lot of things that we will have to find time to come back to see!

What was it like? Snot!
Kent gave you the quick low down but for the insatiably curious out there; this is how a slug race works. At least this is how it works in Brookings OR.
Prep:
Staple gallon plastic bags to a long board with all the open sides along one edge of the board (10 per side in this race)
Select and name your slug (the purist heads out to the forest and catches a “wild” one. The rest of us settle for a loaner)
The race:
Lay the board down flat and wait (cheer for your slug of course)
The slug, for some reason, crawls out of the bag – something to do with discomfort I suspect but who knows?
The winner is the first slug to crawl completely out of his/her bag. Hence the strategy by some of the more experienced racers to select a tiny slug. I thought it was just the lower slime potential. I will know better net time.
There were actually four heats to the races in Brookings. The winners then competed in the final race-off, which we skipped since Spot had long been returned to the loaner box by then. Despite the dismal performance of dear Spot, it was really great fun.

Camp host Doug was in charge of the grill with members of the crew mixing up various specialties including salad, rice pilaf, and stir-fry veggies. All were excellent but the star of the meal was the Grilled Salmon fillet caught locally that morning. YUM! The entertainment included some spirited renditions by Doug and others accompanied by guitar, harmonica and washtub bass. Toasted marshmallows over the bonfire were completing the evening in fine fashion until it was all cut short by a rainstorm.

Stout Grove was dedicated in memory of one of the area’s lumber barons by his wife. A wonderful 1 mile walk through old growth redwoods 200-300 feet tall. The grove is located some distance outside of town along a river on an unimproved/unpaved road. The drive into the grove reminded me of former driving (in WVa) as both ends of the car seemed to steer all the time. With all the rain the road was really slippery. I am pretty sure the car in front of me was going to chicken out until the little Miata trudged past him and on through the slop. It would have been a shame to miss the trees for a little bit of slip’n an slid’n.

A little past peak for the blossoms this year but other festivities were fun. In addition to many carnival foods, an Elvis impersonator, vendors selling “approved concealed/carry vests” and a car show in the picturesque harbor there was the slug race. For those who came without a trained favorite slug, the Humane Society had rental slugs available. Lynn entered “Spot”. Unfortunately “Spot” is directionally challenged and did his(?) best to move away from the finish line during the race. Apparently the intense training during the first two heats did not fully prepare Spot to succeed in his heat. Lynn was eliminated during the third heat and Spot was returned to the Humane Society for a safe trip back to a damp forested area. Sage advice was provided: “do not apply water to remove the slug slime. Wait for it to dry and rub it off like glue”. Apparently water just makes it more slippery.

We are at Kamp Klamath It is in reality a bit more rustic than the resort write-ups lead one to believe. It is in pretty country though, just outside the border of Redwood National Park right along the Klamath River. The proprietor (he never actually told us his name) is pretty rustic himself and the very first thing he HAD to do even before we set up camp was to show us his picture in the Camping magazine. In that pic, he is holding one end of a huge stringer of enormous salmon. Obviously quite proud. We have signed up for a fish bake on Saturday that comes with some hometown live entertainment. He writes, sings and plays guitar and has enlisted some buddies who play guitar and a washtub bass. It ought to be a blast. We will let you know

It actually looked like a huge overgrown thicket rather than a manicured or even kept garden like I had envisioned. We took a stroll anyway. The sweet smell of azaleas and some other flowering shrubs I still can not identify enveloped us in the narrow trail through high underbrush. We climbed just a little in elevation and suddenly the clean scent of towering pines replaced the sweet flowery smell. This was certainly a walk more for the sense of smell than any other.

A tidbit I noticed and filled away…that damp, boggy soft soil azaleas seem to like; snakes like it too. I heard a great many slither away beside my feet along the trail.

Don’t mess with a mommy Harris’s hawk…they can be very intimidating
I accidentally encroached on the nest of a Harris’s hawk. The first thing I noticed was her hovering quite close to me and repeating a sharp four chirp call I had not heard from them before. I assumed that she has lunch in her sights and I stopped to watch her hunt, it is fascinating. Well as it turns out, she had me in her sights and stopping there so close to her nest was NOT what she wanted. She called more loudly. She moved a little closer. She flew in a large sweeping circle and swooped down at me. That is when I figured out I was the target and would be best if I put some distance between us. I backed up about 50 feet and she returned to her nest. Cool I thought, I hurried on down the trail until I felt I was a non-threatening distance away and stopped to look back one more time. Big mistake. She was really pissed when I stopped again. She came up off that nest screaming her call at me and swooped and hovered over my head. I started walking but she kept right over me. I ended up running with my hands up over my head knowing all the while that she was very unlikely to attack anything so much larger than she but at the same time certain that she would. She won. I got far away and never looked back. Thank goodness there was no one around with a video camera.