I think we all have moments, stories, images from our childhood that leave an indelible mark on our personality. These experiences, either consciously or subconsciously, become part of how we define our life’s path as an adult. For me, one of those moments was listening to my mother talk about driving through the Redwoods with my father. The image of these huge trees seemed magical, a forest Camelot hidden away somewhere on the California coast.

Now 20 years later, here I am standing, in the rain and the fog, amongst these huge trees that part of me didn’t actually believe existed. They are so huge that it is hard to even conceive of their grandeur. With the older trees at over 300 feet tall, it seems as though you must stand at least a football field’s distance away from them to even begin to get a sense of the whole tree in one glance. Any closer and you have three separate images in your head – trunk – body – canopy – that then have to be pieced together like a mosaic to form an idea of the whole tree.

In the rain the trees take on a life of their own. I get the sense that I am intruding on their turf, trespassing on the land they have claimed for hundreds or for some, thousands of years. How could pioneers have come here 150 years ago and not been intimidated by these huge beings?

Obviously, they weren’t intimidated. Within 100 years of the arrival of the first white pioneers, 95% of the original old growth redwood forest had been logged. The state was booming and lumber was needed for housing, railroads, and other infrastructure. If it had not been for a small group of concerned citizens, the remaining 5% would have been lost and the majestic redwoods would have only been nothing more than an idea to my generation.

That realization, that this experience could have been taken from me in the name of profits and economic necessity, makes those “crazy people” that chain themselves to and live in trees seem not quite so crazy. If I had grown up with these trees and then had to watch them being destroyed, I think I’d be pulling out my chains as well. That is why travel is so vital. It creates the context, the interconnectedness, and the self-realization that is so important in so many parts of life.

– Somewhere between the “crazy tree huggers” and “money hungry companies”, are a vast number of people, organizations, and companies working to preserve the forests while looking for ways to sustainably maximize profits. For a great overview on the redwoods and to learn more about the latest ideas on sustainable logging, check out National Geographic Magazine from October 2009.

Those of you who can conjure up an image of the iconic late 1940’s plaid woolen ladies suit, have theperfect visual in your head for this post (if you can’t, see image on the right). That iconic suit represents over 100 years of history for the American company Pendleton. For the rest of you who have no idea who Pendleton is, that is ok too. They haven’t really been on the forefront of fashion lately, but they do continue to embrace their “Made in USA” advantage and to create high quality woolen products.

If you happen to find yourself in the Pacific Northwest and are looking for a great introduction to the American textile industry and the dyeing/spinning/weaving process for wool, a visit to one of Pendleton’s two mills (in Pendleton, OR or Washougal, WA) is a must. The tours are free and take you through the whole process from raw material to finished fabric and blankets. Of course we know that nothing in this world is free, so it is no surprise that after this one hour walking advertisement, you will be convinced that you need a new blanket or blazer. Hopefully you’ll also be persuaded to pay more attention to your labels. Seeing Americans at work creating a high quality and beautiful product, might just entice you to buy only one of those “Made in USA” t-shirts for $50, instead of the two “Made in China” versions for $25 each.

A teeny store front hidden at the back-end of a small shopping center, The Dunes Cafe in Florence, Oregon was an unexpected surprise find. Admittedly, I didn’t find it myself. Only an eagle eye would have noticed it tucked off of the 101 highway. We were directed to it by the young man at the gas station up the road.

With just a handful of tables and 5 bar stools, the atmosphere was cozy to say the least. It was a little after 10 in the morning and the place was packed. I ordered an egg and bacon sandwich and tucked myself away by the bar to keep out of the fray. Within 5 minutes I had one of the most delicious breakfast sandwiches I’ve ever tasted, and I had made a few new friends at the cafe bar.

La Push, Beach 2: Before leaving Seattle, my sister told me that we had to stop in La Push if we were driving through the Olympic Peninsula. I, of course, took her word and we ventured the 15 miles off 101 towards the coast. About 10 miles in, I had the realization that this is “Twilight” land, and in fact, this town might be more well-known for its association with the movie than for anything else.

Boy was I wrong. As soon as we drove into the town, home to Quileute Indian tribe, it was clear my sis had not led me astray. Driftwood (and by driftwood I mean 2-6′ wide pine tree segments) covered the beach. Small fishing boats were bobbing in the current, and the view to the horizon was only broken by the large rocks jetting out of the sea.

Kalaloch Campground: Nestled amongst giant mossy trees on a cliff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, this was quite the romantic campground (two words I never thought I would use together). Still partially filled at the beginning of October with a dozen RV’s and a sampling of tents, we knew this place had to be good as soon as we drove in.

Reservations are required from June to September.  If you want a view, make sure to reserve the D loop, numbers 24/31/33/35/36/37. We chose 37.