My parents were friends with the original owners of “Trees of Mystery”, so I have many fond memories of exploring these trees with a sort of ‘VIP Pass’. At one time in my late teens I entertained the idea of living in the Redwoods, so I ended up in Garberville and slept in a hollowed-out Redwood by the river. Another time I was hitchhiking through Northern California when two women in a Volkswagon Bug picked me up taking me through Orick to Fern Canyon on the coast where there were herds of Elk roaming. There was also a group of about a dozen women I found myself surrounded by; to be encompassed by that much estrogen was a pretty heady experience for a young teenage buck.

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