On our last full vacation day, and our last day to be on the Pacific coast, we headed to Cannon Beach, a picturesque town and shoreline in northern Oregon.

Cannon Beach’s most famous landmark is Haystack Rock, a towering monolith of 235 feet, surrounded by other rocks collectively known as the Needles. The rocks, or sea stacks, are volcanic in origin, formed millions of years ago from lava that flowed down the Columbia River valley and pushed up again through the sea floor. Haystack Rock is famous, too, for being in a few movies, including Kindergarten Cop and The Goonies. I’m going to have to watch those again now.

By this day on our vacation, not only had fog returned, but a storm out on the ocean was contributing to rough waves and looming dark skies.

I’m glad we arrived when we did, because we were able to get a few minutes of safe tide-pool viewing before the storm’s sea surges made it too hazardous. The tide pools are right in front of Haystack Rock, but of course you need to be there at low tide to experience them.
Aggregating anemones, closed up during low tide, were covered in sand and broken shell bits, which help prevent desiccation. Interspersed among them were barnacles and small sea snails, which had their own methods to handle low-tide exposure. With fascination, we watched an underwater drama take place as this aggregating anemone actively attacked a nearby colony with its specialized stinging tentacles, called acorhagi. We had recently watched a similar attack at Gerstle Cove, but this smaller anemone moved very quickly and with purpose — the speed of movement was fascinating in its own right.
When acorn barnacles are overcrowded on a rock, they sometimes grow as a columnar formation, as you can see here.

Just below, this hermit crab tried to quickly hide, but I snapped a picture just in time.Present on other rocks were large aggregations of these beautiful dark Blue Mussels, also called Bay Mussels. They are relatively smooth in appearance, lacking the radiating ribs of the California Mussel.

FYI, as I wrote this post, I happened upon a great online guide to Oregon’s intertidal marine life and I feel obligated to share it. This guide provides a thorough look at many species one might discover at low tide along the Pacific Coast, whether in Oregon, California, or Alaska. Many of the them we saw at Cannon Beach, but the guide also makes me realize just how much we didn’t get to see!

This beautiful ochre sea star was very exposed, but I hoped the surging waters would soon cover it.

Aside from offering protective sites for a variety of marine species, Haystack Rock is also an important nesting location for 14 different kinds of seabirds, such as cormorants, auks, and gulls. Here is a family of Black Oystercatchers. Look closely — can you see both of the babies? Apparently Oystercatchers eat a lot of mussels and limpets but surprisingly very few oysters.

Seabirds such as these choose rocky islands for raising their young as a way to avoid most predators, because the birds are far more awkward and vulnerable on land. However, peregrine falcons, bald eagles, and other flying predators are still a threat, as are human disturbance and the potential plummet for young to the rough ocean waters below.

Even though gulls also nest on the rock (there are 3 young ones with their parent in the photo above), they can be predators, too, nabbing unattended eggs or baby birds. We saw Common Murres and Pigeon Guillemots on the rock, but we were particularly excited to see other members of the the auk family there — Tufted Puffins. We watched as they gathered fish from the sea and returned to their nesting spots on the rock.Cannon Beach is also great for good old-fashioned play, particular in good weather. But despite the looming storm and rough waves, some visitors still spent time building castles in the sand. 

This gentleman let me snap a few pictures as he sculpted a dolphin in the sand. All he had for tools was a stick off the beach and a shovel he’d brought with him.

Birds don’t even need tools to make art in the sand. They just use their feet!

By this point Nolan apparently had turned into a zombie. We supposed that was our cue to get going, and so we did.

Our long Pacific journey of 2013 was finally over. From Seattle to Alaska, then down to Big Sur and back up the Pacific coast, we had a very fulfilling vacation. Though we knew we were heading home, it felt, too, like we were leaving another home. The boys and I had seen so much beauty and gained so much knowledge of our natural world during the trip, and our memories will last a lifetime. The Pacific is already calling to us to visit again, and we hope to do so as soon as possible.

We reached Seattle that afternoon, ate a delicious seafood dinner near the bay, then prepped for our flight home the next day. Mount Rainier gave us a beautiful send-off from the airplane — nice closure, Rainier!

Having left California the day before, we packed up our campsite at Humbug Mountain and drove north, following Highway 101 along Oregon’s coast. We checked our tide pool schedule and aimed to arrive in the Bandon State Park area for low tide.
It is so nice being on vacation with only a minimal schedule to follow. Until that morning, we’d never heard of Bandon State Park, yet there we were, and it was blue and beautiful. I’ll admit, however, that it was also very chilly and very windy. We actually broke out socks (which we wore ever so attractively with our Keens) and added long-sleeved shirts under our jackets.

Do you see that first large rock to the right of the arch? Take note — there are harbor seals there, and you’ll see them again shortly.

The tide was still in the process of receding when we first arrived. Above, you can see the high tide line on the rock farthest back. Somewhat closer in, the bright orange color of an ochre sea star stands out.

The presence of ochre sea stars is considered an indication of a healthy ecosystem.

On the rocks at Bandon, there were many ochre sea stars, both solitary and in groups. These sea stars are typically purple but are sometimes orange.Where there were sea stars, the mussel population was very much in control. This rock, close to the beach, shows how mussels can form massive aggregations when sea stars aren’t around. Mussels often dominate rocks between high and mid tide levels, but this rock was excessively covered, even in the lower areas where sea stars should have been happily feasting. I wonder if this rock is too close to easy human access and destruction — could this be why there weren’t any sea stars there to counter the imbalance? 

On other rocks, sea stars and anemones shared prime real estate. Note how large the orange ochre is. On yet another rock, these sea anemones were drooping so much as the water receded, they gave the appearance of melting. Far above the water, large colonies of Common Murres, also called Common Guillemots, nested at the top of the massive rocks. Normally, these birds spend most of their lives at sea. But they come to shore to breed. The parents don’t build nests up there — they incubate their single egg directly on the rock. Common Murres’ take-offs and flights are awkward; they are much better divers than flyers.
As I mentioned earlier, a small group of harbor seals was hauled out on one of the rocks not far from the big arched rock. Because they were fairly close to shore, we kept our distance and moved slowly and quietly, trying to disturb the seals as little as possible. But other people were not so thoughtful. They went across the low water and trampled across rocks to get closer to these seals, who were very alarmed at their presence. It isn’t easy for these seals to get on the rocks — they do so when the water is higher, then they rest on the rocks in the sun while the tide is low. The front seals you see in this picture were driven away shortly thereafter by the people who kept trying to get close, and that meant those seals likely had to try to rest in the cold water or expend a lot of energy swimming, if they weren’t able to find another rock to haul out on. There are laws against the actions of those careless, selfish people.
This seal was one of the last couple that remained after the other seals were frightened away. Even though at this point the first offensive people had gone, while we were looking at tide pool life, a new family had arrived, complete with a dog running loose on the beach and a child throwing a tantrum — you can see the seal was watching them with a wary eye. I’m sure that it wasn’t long before this seal finally departed for a safer, quieter environment.

As we got ready to leave, we took a few minutes to watch gulls fight over a large dead crab. Just as one gull would dominate and declare the crab its own, another gull would sneak up from behind and drive the gull away. The process repeated again and again, reminding us of the gulls in “Finding Nemo” (Mine? Mine? Mine? Mine?). This alternating power struggle continued on for some time. Occasionally one gull would make away with a crab leg, and it proudly plucked out the bit of meat — from a safe distance.

But finally one gull got the prize…

… and the feast.Continuing north, we stopped at an area of Oregon Dunes National Recreational Area. The dunes were tall and a blast to climb — I’d be in great shape if I could climb those every day. I couldn’t get the boys to roll down — they are apparently too big for that now — but they still had fun sliding, jumping, running, and chasing each other. Down at the shore, the wind was impressively strong. It was easy to see how the dunes were built and shaped over time.

Leaving the dunes behind, we continued our northern trek, stopping just past Florence to visit the Sea Lion Caves.

The sea-level caverns and especially the rocky areas just outside serve as a mainland rookery and haul-out area for Stellar Sea Lions and occasionally California Sea Lions. Pigeon Guillemots, Brandt’s Cormorants, gulls, and other birds also nest in the area during breeding season. I was hesitant about going at first, worried that the touristy vibe of the cave attraction would put people over wildlife, but in truth visitors watched the sea lions from a dark, sheltered viewing area — the sea lions did not appear to have any awareness of our presence. In fact, the viewing area’s elevator, built in 1961, was constructed over 3 off-seasons so the sea lions would not be present or affected in any way.

Within the cave, younger males attempted to monopolize harems. However, if hunger drove them to the sea for feeding, other males would likely take over. There was much interaction, too, between adult females and juveniles. Many of the sea lions were scarred or bleeding from waves bashing them against the rough rocks — or perhaps from fighting — but apparently this was the way of life for the sea lions.

Outside and back on the cliff, a short path took us to a viewing area above the main rookery. Here, hundreds of Stellar sea lions and pups snoozed on shore. Huge bulls periodically announced their territorial control, and nearby females would occasionally lift their head with their irritated response.

A few posts ago, I mentioned that harbor seals don’t usually sleep touching each other — you can see that sea lions, on the other hand, will drape themselves all over their nearby companions as they snooze.

Even outside the cave, the crashing waves made it difficult for the big sea lions to haul out onto the rocks if they found themselves in the water. We watched a group of them try again and again — eventually one or two made it onto the rocks, but we left before we found out whether the rest succeeded.

Moving back to birds, this Pigeon Guillemot rested near one of the cavern’s viewing areas. It was quite irritated by a pesky little sparrow that climbed the cliff wall above it — as the sparrow searched among the moss for insects, it dropped debris directly on the Guillemot’s head. Finally, the larger bird just gave up and moved a few feet away.

Like the Common Murre, its cousin, the Pigeon Guillemot comes to shore only to breed. However, instead of laying only one egg, the female parent lays two eggs. After breeding season, Pigeon Guillemots spend the rest of their time out on the open sea. Both Common Murres and Pigeon Guillemots are members of the auk family.

Two miles north of the caves, we pulled into an overlook to take pictures of the famous and highly-photographed Heceta Head Lighthouse. Our old vacation nemesis, fog, returned just in time to affect our pictures. Likewise, powerful wind gusts shoved against my zoom lens — it was a challenge to walk, much less take pictures.This gull and I shared moments of struggling to stand in the wind — the bird fared better when it nestled into a resting position. I had to take several pictures to ensure that at least one would be in focus, given how hard the wind shoved my camera around.

We drove on, hoping to make a bit of distance but knowing we’d need a place to camp overnight. We found an available spot at Devils Lake State Park near Lincoln City, another crowded but pleasant enough campground. The next day would be our last vacation day — alas!

Leaving the Pacific coast temporarily behind, it was time for us to move a bit inland and get ready to see some more of the biggest trees in the world, and by that I mean old growth coastal redwoods, still surviving in the few remaining areas of land left uncut by loggers.

Being among the trees keeps us ever in good spirits. There’s my youngest, silly as he can be. Yes, we’re weird — but happy!

We took a scenic road north, the Avenue of the Giants, which is an older part of Highway 101. This gorgeous route takes you among the many towering trees of Humboldt Redwoods State Park, which contains the largest remaining area of old-growth coastal redwoods in existence today.

These old trees had much to say, and we tried our best to listen.

Our destination for the night was Del Norte State Park, where we stayed in the most magical campsite we’ve ever seen. Moss-covered trees, ferns and shrubs creating natural groves, fallen redwoods with walk-able tunnels through them, streaming patches of sunlight, singing birds — this was a place we imagined fairies would live.

Plus, there were lots of banana slugs, the second-largest type of terrestrial slugs in the world. Those alone made it our kind of place. Expanding our vacation’s nature observation game, the boys and I tried to see who could find the most banana slugs as we hiked among the redwoods the next morning.

There were lots and lots, keeping us busy. These slugs are extremely valuable in the ecosystem, consuming a lot of detritus and returning nutrients to the soil. They are part of the reason the forest floor there contains such rich soil.

Yellow-spotted millipedes are also important for forest ecology, consuming leaf litter and freeing up the nutrients.

This wildlife, in contrast, is less beneficial and more “gimme gimme.” Ghost Plant (Monotropa uniflora) is so named because its stems, bracts, and flowers lack color. Other common names include Indian Pipes and Corpse Plant. It appears at first as if it were a fungus, but it is a flowering plant (in the blueberry family, believe it or not), one that can grow in very shady woods with rich soil. However, because it lacks chlorophyll, Ghost Plant is heterotrophic, getting its food from outside sources. In this case, it gets its food by being a parasite of mycorrhizal fungi in the forest floor. Since the fungi participate in a nutrient exchange with nearby trees, it does mean that ultimately Ghost Plant does take food from those trees, even if not directly.

There was plenty of true fungi around, including lots of shelf fungi. This one was my favorite, reminding me much of Little Shop of Horror’s Audrey II. Some shelf fungi, also called bracket fungi, are parasites of the trees on which they live, while others consume dead organic matter. I’m uncertain of this species — could it be Gandoerma applanatum, Artist’s Bracket?

Yes, I take pictures of animal scat. Don’t you? This looks like raccoon to me.

This little Chestnut-backed Chickadee was as feisty as its Carolina cousins.

After our morning hike, we headed into Crescent City to get some laundry done, then we drove up Pebble Beach to Point St. George, a northwestern coastal headland of California and a protected site of the ancestral home of the Tolowa Indians. There coastal bluffs are covered with native grasslands and trails lead down to the shore.

Up and down the beach, we followed long lines of crab molts, washed ashore as evidence of crab growth and breeding season.

The waves were ever entertaining for all of us. Oh, how I love vacationing with my boys.

But we weren’t done with redwoods yet. In fact, the biggest were still to come. We detoured back over to Jedediah Smith State Park, part of the Redwoods National Park.

Here we drove on a narrow dirt road that curved around some of the oldest, largest, tallest trees in the world. The rest of the fallen tree above continued on the other side of the road.

We eventually stopped to hike in the vicinity of the Grove of Titans, where record-holding trees exist. Here, many trees are 350 feet or more in height, with a base diameter of about 20 feet. The oldest are about 2,000 years old.

While we happened upon very gigantic trees, visible from the path, that very possibly could have been the titans themselves, we were good and stayed on the trails, respectful of the tree roots and the park rules. The pictures I took of those trees from yards away really didn’t give enough size comparison to do them justice, so instead I’m showing my son near a redwood that is quite large but nowhere near as large as the titans. To see the full tree shown above, click here, or go to the previous post.

The tranquility of the redwood forest touched our souls. We were very sorry to leave behind these majestic trees, but it was time to move on.

Returning back to the Pacific Ocean, we drove north, saying goodbye to California and entering again the beautiful state of Oregon, this time to follow the coastline. The long beaches, often walled by sandy dunes or tall bluffs, edged cold blue waters that were often dotted with magnificent jagged or well-eroded rocks just off shore.

At the Pistol River State Scenic View Point, we enjoyed warm sands and dunes that were fun to traverse and photograph. The wind was strong, and it shaped the dunes into fascinating rippling patterns.

We weren’t the only visitors, however — this area proved to be a resting spot for many migrating pelicans. 

Apparently the rocks in the photos above are great places to visit at low tide, but during high tide, they are nicely surrounded by water and waves. So after enjoying our view from a distance, we trekked back across the dunes and traveled on.

We spent the night at Humbug Mountain State Park in Oregon. It was nice and clean, but not really our favorite campground, given the magnificent places we’d camped at in California. I will say that the hosts and rangers were very nice. But the campsites were too close together for my personal taste — it felt too much like an RV park, rather than a state park. Still, we were able to get a spot without reservations — big plus there! 

Next up, more fun along the Oregon coast, though it meant to us that our journey’s end was looming. The farther north we traveled, the closer we got to Washington and our return flight home.

Sometimes a photo deserves a post of its own. This beautiful and very old redwood is in Redwood National Park, California. I just had to show off how tall it is.

The journey continues tomorrow!

P.S. In case you are wondering, that’s 3 photos merged together. Thank you, Photomerge!

One of our favorite spots on our Pacific journey was Gerstle Cove, part of California’s Salt Point State Park. This area is located about 90 miles north of San Francisco. We timed it just right to visit at low tide, a must if you want to see tide pools. This was my boys’ first experience with tide pools, and it ranked at the top of their memories from the whole vacation.

To get to the tide pools we climbed down large sandstone rocks just off the Salt Point trail. There is an easier location to get to, but this area came recommended by the park ranger since we weren’t limited by having small children in the group. The geologic processes in this area are worth a visit alone.The landscape of Salt Point is formed primarily by two major processes. Plate tectonics are responsible for the terraces along the shore, while wave action creates coves, shapes rocks, and moves rocks or carries them away. Some of the rocks are sculpted into knobs, bowls, or ribs. Others display remarkable tafoni, honeycomb-like features created by biological, chemical, and physical weathering.

Some of the patterns were works of art in themselves.

Coming down from the rocks, we first entered the splash zone, the area just above the intertidal zones. At this level, water splashes on the rocks above the average high-tide height.

In the splash zone, we began to see the first marine life, including this rock louse. A rock louse is considered nearly terrestrial — while it can be found on land, it stays close to the water to keep its gills moist. The rock louse is related to the pill bug, both being isopod crustaceans.

Acorn barnacles and periwinkles are other common sights in the splash zone. Acorn barnacles are sessile, growing their shell directly — and permanently — on a rock or other hard substrate. Periwinkles, small sea snails, also can temporarily cement themselves to the rocks with a hardened mucus. This allows them to survive out of the water for a long period of time, but when the conditions are right, they can move on at will.

This is a rough limpet, nestled in a “home site” it has grooved out of the rock. It’s a tight, custom fit — this helps protect it from predators and from desiccation. Limpets are specially adapted for clinging to rocks, having a low broad shell and a mucus-covered foot that functions as an adhesive organ, as well as for movement. When the rocks are wet, the limpet will move about for feeding, then it will return to its home site for low tide.

Just below the splash zone is the high intertidal zone, an area that gets submerged only during high tide. Here algae, such as sea lettuce and rockweed, as well as stranded bits of kelp, covered the rocks, making the surfaces quite slick and very hazardous to traverse — one slip and bones will break. With the slippery rocks and water still flowing and splashing very close to us, it was quite clear why small children would be at risk in this setting.

Believe it or not, we were so focused on the tide pools (lower area of the photo above), looking for small marine life and making sure not to slip, that it was several minutes before we realized that a large group of harbor seals was hauled out and resting on the exposed rock ahead of us.

Black turban snails are plentiful at Gerstle Cove, and they are easily found in the high intertidal zone. They eat macroscopic algae, kelp, and diatoms, and they are prepared to drop away quickly if a sea star or sea otter attempts to capture them. Empty black turban snail shells are a great example of recycling in nature — we saw many a hermit crab wearing the shells for a home.

These are gooseneck barnacles, which attach to rocks with a strong, rubbery stalk; this is different from the attachment method of the sessile acorn barnacles. The gooseneck barnacles are adapted to trap food as moving water brings it by.

Note: we also visited tide pools near the visitor center. At this point I’m going to mix the photos deliberately to talk about the wildlife we spotted.

Hanging out in both the high and mid intertidal zones are crabs, and lots of them. We saw mostly striped shore crabs, though they did their best to scurry into hiding spots if they saw us.

Though some striped shore crabs were purple in coloration and others tan or green, those transverse lines across the carapace were always the key to identification.

California mussels depend on the moisture present in the mid intertidal zone. They adhere to rocks and to each other, forming large aggregations, often out-competing other animals for space on rocks. However, this clustering forms a habitat in itself, and many species of wildlife live on or among the mussels.

An important predator of the California mussel is the ochre sea star, this one purple. The ochre sea star is considered a keystone species because of the critical role it plays in controlling the populations of mussels. The loss of only a few ochre sea stars can have a tremendous impact on the number of mussels in an area, affecting the overall health of the intertidal environment.

This is an orange ochre sea star. See the tube feet helping it adhere and move on the rock? These same tube feet help a sea star open mussels and handle other prey.

The giant green anemone, Anthopleura xanthogrammica, has a green oral disk, with only faint radiating lines, and green tentacles. As its name implies, this anemone can get quite big. While often found alone, it will sometimes be seen in a group with other anemones without aggravation.
In contrast, a sunburst anemone, Anthopleura sola, is a solitary anemone with distinct radiating lines and pink-tipped tentacles. 

The sunburst anemone does not play nicely with others. Here is one displaying its acrorhagi, specialized stinging tentacles used when fighting with a competing anemone. I suspect the other anemone is hidden under that kelp.Sunburst anemones are very similar to aggregating anemones, Anthopleura elegantissima, so much so that they were once considered the same species until molecular study proved otherwise. “Aggregating” refers to the tendency of these particular anemones to form colonies. The anemones in the colonies are actually clones, genetically identical polyps formed asexually through fission. But like their solitary cousins, an aggregating colony is still territorial and will actually engage in a battle with any encroaching anemones that don’t have the same genetic makeup. That’s why the colonies are always seen spaced apart from each other.

As the tide recedes, sea anemones expel water from their column, retract their tentacles, and fold inward in order to retain moisture within their body cavity. In addition to looking like an odd lump during this process, their size can be misleading.

Here an anemone is still in the process of consuming a crab, despite being interrupted by low tide. It will expel any parts it can’t digest.

I happened upon this oddity among the rocks. My best guess is that it also is an anemone, but I would greatly appreciate someone sharing more information if they can. Some anemones, particularly if they are growing in an area with little sunlight, lack the special algae, zooxanthellae, that would typically grow in their endoderm. They thus appear white, but would they look like this when closed?

Take a closer look — see the pink tentacles? They make me think it is an anemone, like a sunburst or aggregating one, perhaps enclosed around something. But efforts to find similar photos online have failed, and the park rangers didn’t know the answer. By the way, note all the limpets nearby, and in the first photo, more Black Turban snails.
Black katy chitons, also called black leather chitons, are slow-moving grazers of algae and small barnacles, scraping them off with rasping, tongue-like appendages. They are effective at eroding rocks, as well.

The iridescent interior of this abalone shell is no less beautiful for the barnacles that are growing on its surface.

This limpet was actively moving about, and I felt quite lucky to get this picture at low tide. You can see its muscular foot, its mouth, and one of its tentacles.Lastly, this is a pink acorn barnacle (Tetraclita rubescens). Unlike the aggregating barnacles of the higher intertidal zones, the pink acorn is a solitary barnacle, typically living in the mid to low intertidal zones. Note that other barnacles are actually growing on it.

The water was a little too high for us to reach the low intertidal zone, although we saw a few of the same sea creatures that would have been visible there, including ochre sea stars, chitons, and the pink acorn barnacle. Sea urchins, sponges, and nudibranches, on the other hand, are seen when the water is at its lowest, which means you have to get farther out, as well. We weren’t keen on going out that far on those super-slick rocks at Gerstle Cove, so we stopped where we were.

This view shows a bit of the tidal pool areas below the visitor center, along with my son. It’s easier to move among the rocks here, and the wildlife viewing is still great — if you have young children, we recommend that you visit these tide pools rather than the ones by Salt Point trail.

It was time to head north again, leaving the coast briefly to move inland and see more old-growth redwoods. We only had a few days left of travel, a bittersweet feeling.

Heading north from San Francisco, I took the boys to Muir Woods National Monument. It is named for John Muir, the famous naturalist and conservationist whose dedication and love of wilderness led to the protection of vast areas of beautiful, ecologically valuable lands in the West. Muir Woods holds one of the last stands of old growth Coastal Redwoods.

I adore Muir Woods. Sunlight filters through the tall trees to highlight patches of the forest floor below. Gentle creeks flow past. Fallen logs give homes to small critters. Birds call in the distance or flutter nearby, and fresh air fills one’s lungs. Moss, soft to the touch, and numerous ferns create a green garden below the canopy. It’s magical.

The first time I went to Muir Woods was with my mother while we lived in the San Francisco area years ago. There were few people in the park that day, so we found ourselves truly immersed in the sounds and beauty of the woodlands without disturbance. In contrast, the park was quite crowded during my visit with my boys. I’d encourage my sons to tread softly and to whisper, letting the sounds of birds, running water, and rustling leaves reach our ears… then suddenly loud stomping children would race past us, or people would chat loudly on their cell phones, families would call down the path to each other, etc.

I don’t mean to sound grumpy, but having once experienced the magic of this place in relative solitude, I was sad for all those people who would leave the park having missed out on what nature wanted to share. Silence in the woods is golden.

The boys and I did take a longer path at Muir Woods, and that gave us brief bits of time without human noise.

The boys and I often play little games during our outdoor treks. For example, sometimes we hold contests to see who can spot the most, say, lizards. This journey, we tallied nature points. If someone spotted something new or unusual, made a particularly good observation, made a good connection to previous encounters, etc., he or she would get a nature point, the idea this time being that the winner would get some sort of prize that we’d figure out later (most of the time, it’s just the honor of being the winner). Cool spider webs, colorful centipedes, nests, curling fronds — they all have the potential to be a nature point. Also, someone else has to verify the observation — in other words, no points for birds spotted that fly away too quickly out of sight. It’s a really casual thing, but it keeps us all near one another and sharing what we see. As a mom and a naturalist, I want to encourage my boys to love nature as much as I do, so games like these, even with teenagers who know exactly what I’m up to, help us all be better observers and to truly connect to the magnificent “real world.”

We all, of course, took time to hug the trees. That, too, earned us each a nature point. My eldest son was so appreciative of the Redwoods that he took a picture to become his new phone avatar.

After Muir Woods, it was time to get back on the road. We didn’t know where we’d end up spending the night — I had built in flexibility with our trip in case we wanted to linger here and there, so only certain key places/dates were officially booked to ensure availability and to help keep us on schedule enough to make it back to Seattle for our eventual flight back to Texas. So we headed north to see what we could see.

What we saw was stunning. Though the northern California coast is less dramatic in appearance than the central coast, we finally experienced a break from the clouds and fog, and that meant blue waters at last.

We ended up camping overnight at Salt Point State Park, timing our morning rise to visit nearby tide pools at Gerstle Cove during low tide. That worked out really well, as you will see with the next post.

Pardon me while I get a little touristy, for as we continued our trek north from Point Lobos to San Francisco, I felt impelled to show my boys some of the SF area’s great classics.

We started, however, with a quick trip to Santa Cruz’s famous Boardwalk. We didn’t ride any rides, but I wanted the boys to experience the crowds, music, beach scene, and atmosphere of this fun seaside park. Besides, it’s the site where some parts of the American teen vampire film “The Lost Boys” were filmed in the 1980s. Each time I see that movie, I remember the feel of being at the Boardwalk from when I was a teen living in California. That soundtrack still rocks, by the way. All right, too much info about my youth — moving on.

We got to San Francisco and — hey, look, more fog! As I mentioned on previous posts about our vacation, fog was the norm for our trip, so we greeted it with a chuckle.

The ever-present fog certainly didn’t stop us from having a good time. These are some views from Telegraph Hill, where Coit Tower sits. The Transamerica Pyramid was in the fog photo above. We also had a nice view of the crooked Lombard Street, which we had just driven down.

And there’s Alcatraz. Don’t bother trying to get a tour of the former prison on a whim, by the way. Those days are over — you have to book your tour weeks in advance now, thanks to hotels and touring companies swooping up most of the tickets online.

Here’s the Coit Tower itself, built in 1933. It was named after and, in fact, funded by benefactor Lillie Hitchcock Coit through part of her estate. The story of this eccentric woman is fascinating — she was a cigar-smoking, trouser-wearing, gambling woman who occasionally dabbled in volunteer fire-fighting. The quote “well-behaved women rarely make history” makes me think of her.

Way up on the tower wall, I spotted these birds clinging to the side. Swallow fledglings, perhaps?

On our first day we also visited San Francisco’s newly-relocated Exploratorium, a “hands-on museum of science, art, and human perception.” It truly is a learning laboratory. We spent hours there, and it still wasn’t enough time to see and do everything.

The Exploratorium is a must-do when you visit SF, regardless of your age. I insist! At the Exploratorium, there is even an experiment involving guests. If you see two water fountains side-by-side, one a classic metal style and the other created from a nice, clean toilet, which fountain would you be willing to drink from? I find this a fascinating study. Well, the answer for our family was obvious.

My favorite place at the Exploratorium was the monochromatic room, a room lit by lamps that only emit a single wavelength of light. But with special flashlights, you can shine white light on photos, toy cars, clothes, and other objects in the room to discover their “true colors.”

The next day we visited Fisherman’s Wharf, Pier 39, Ghiradelli Square, and other classic spots. We ate delicious food and even took a boat under the Golden Gate Bridge.

Here’s the view from our cable car at the top of a very steep hill. Cable cars, still moving on 19th-century technology, give a sense of thrill, as in “Will it make it to the top of the hill? Will it be able to stop on the downhill? Will it roll backwards? Will that car hit us while we sit in the middle of the intersection?” We were most impressed with the operators — putting the brakes on those cable cars is hard work.  Not the healthiest of pigeons — perhaps it should wean itself off of leftover hot-fudge sundaes. I’m sure there is a lesson to be learned there about nutrition, but I admit we did later have our own Ghiradelli treats.

Over at the California Academy of Science in Golden Gate Park, visitors learn about different subjects with overall more visual learning than the hands-on approach of the Exploratorium. The building houses a planetarium, a multi-story rain forest, and an aquarium. I really liked the 197,000-square-foot Living Roof, covered in specially-selected native plants that thrive on little water and can handle the salty air and wind. This eco-friendly roof keeps the interior building 10 degrees cooler than a typical roof would. For younger kids, this science museum might be the way to go, especially with the aquarium and rain forest, while older kids really get involved over at the Exploratorium. At least, that’s my take on it. You know me, my favorite subject in the rain forest was a spider, the Golden Silk Orbweaver. These spiders weave their giant webs both in displays and openly in parts of the rain forest area.

Around town, I admired the waste bins enough to take a couple of pictures. While many cities have separate trash and recycling, San Francisco takes it a step farther and has bins for composting. It also labels the trash bin as “Landfill” — this helps people keep in mind what waste truly is and where it is going. I hope Austin gets to this point.

We were amused by the TARDIS-like toilets seen around the city (Dr. Who fans will know what I’m talking about). They are automated (even the door slides open with the push of a button) and supposedly self-cleaning, but as any public toilet is expected to be, still nasty. One of my sons bravely tried one out, just to say that he did it. Our short city visit over, it was time to cross the Golden Gate Bridge and get back to the coast, to redwoods, and to nature in general. Muir Woods is next!

Between Big Sur and Monterey Peninsula lies one of my favorite places in California, Point Lobos State Natural Reserve. It is an important marine preserve and wildlife sanctuary.

Bumblebee on Sea-cliff Buckwheat, Erigonum parvifolium

To me, it’s one of the most beautiful places on Earth, rich in wildlife and diversity.

When the skies are clear, the waters are a gorgeous blue, sometimes with shades of turquoise, creating a colorful contrast to the jagged cliffs and enormous rock islands. Of course, fog, wind, and overcast skies, prevalent for the bulk of our vacation, continued for our Point Lobos stop, but it was still beautiful.

From rocky vantage points, visitors can sometimes catch glimpses of sea otters and migrating whales. A particularly popular spot is Sea Lion Point, where coves serve as warm low-tide haul-out spots for harbor seals. 

Harbor seals maneuver rather awkwardly on land. They come to these basking rocks as the water recedes at low tide. While the seals might rest for long periods of time, they are still cautious, checking regularly for signs of danger. Also, harbor seals don’t usually touch each other while they are basking on shore. This is different from sea lions, which typically cluster together for a nice cozy sleep.

Offshore are the Sea Lion Rocks, basking spots for large groups of Stellar Sea Lions. This rock was a smaller haul-out spot — many more sea lions rested on a larger rock beyond.

Cliff Buckwheat, Eriogonum parvifolium, endemic to California

The reserve sadly is not free of difficulties from invasive plants. Coastal stone crops, for example, have to duke it out with invasive ice plants. Mustard, French Broom, and Poison Hemlock have found their way there, too. 

This Crystalline Ice Plant is another invasive plant, drat it. Per the California Invasive Council website, “Crystalline iceplant inhibits the growth of native plants by accumulating salt in the soil and by leaving behind mats of dry plant matter that may take several years to decompose.” What a shame that such a pretty plant is wreaking such havoc.

To speak instead of native plants, Point Lobos is one of only two places in the world where Monterey Cypress grows naturally. Many of these beautiful trees can be found along the Cypress Grove trail.

Close to the ocean, however, some of the cypress trees, as well as rocks, are covered in a velvety orange coating. This coating is actually a green algae called Trentepohlia. The algae’s chlorophyll is masked by orange carotenoid pigments, but its purpose is still the same: food production. The algae is not a parasite.

Orange Bush Monkeyflowers line many of the paths, as does the infamous Western Poison Oak.

Around a curve at Cypress Grove, we spotted a group of California Quail.They quickly moved out of sight (or at least they thought they were out of sight!).

One of my favorite spots at Point Lobos is Bird Island, a summer nesting spot for large colonies of Brandt’s Cormorants and many Western Gulls.

The trail leads you to a nice observation point, though sometimes Western Gulls stake their claim over it.

The Cormorants were in various nesting stages while we were there, but most of the juveniles were already as large as the adults. Look closely and you will see the dry circular nests many are sitting on. It’s amusing to see the large juveniles still trying to squeeze in those nests to be pampered by their parents. Also, look at the adult Cormorant in the upper left corner of the photo and you will more clearly see the blue breeding foliage that the adults have.

Western Gull juveniles spent time flapping and strengthening their wings, socializing, and pestering their parents for food.

Kelp, plentiful in many of the coves and around rocky outcrops, create nutritionally-rich forests that attract sea otters and other wildlife to the waters of Point Lobos.

Ever were there Brown Pelicans flying along the coast.As I walked along the trail, I caught a glimpse of this small bird and managed to get a few pictures. I am undecided whether this is a Wrentit or a female Bushtit. I’m leaning toward the former, but I’d appreciate birder input.

It was hanging out, often upside-down, in a dense berrying shrub and was not in a flock. It might have been eating the plentiful berries, but the shrub was loaded with insects, too. Perhaps both!

Point Lobos is one of those places that feel like home to me, much like the old-growth Redwood forests, the cool Pacific waters, the mountain air of the Rockies, and the starry skies of Big Bend. It’s a sanctuary, a haven, a “great meeting of land and sea,” and a treasure.

From Point Lobos, we headed north to Santa Cruz and San Francisco for brief visits before continuing our journey up Northern California’s beautiful coastline.

Though technically we visited Monterrey first, in our hearts our California vacation began with Big Sur and Pfeiffer Beach.

Perhaps that is because the redwood trees and sheer natural beauty of the area make us feel so solidly connected to Earth.

Here we camped and hiked and observed wildlife at our own pace.

Sometimes we got a little wild ourselves.

If you look closely, this Western Fence Lizard has been regrowing its tail.

This Stellar Jay found us hiking along a trail to the falls. It flew up to a nearby branch to consume its nut at a comfortable height.

Stellar Jays boldly wake up Big Sur campers each morning. The loud birds move in groups from campsite to campsite. It’s fascinating to listen to the way they communicate with each other. Also common near the campsites were Dark-eyed Juncos. Acorn Woodpeckers are social, busy birds. Their coloration is striking. We also spotted a Northern Flicker and some Downy Woodpeckers during our stay.Within the forest, down at the base of the trees, one feels a little sheltered from the fog, but as you drive along the coast, fog can come and go and come right back again quite suddenly. Fog was our friend during our vacation — well, it sure seemed to like us because it visited a lot during our stay.But even the side of the highway is gorgeous. My son snapped this picture of coastal sedums and other plants while we waited for our turn on a one-lane section of Highway 1 that was being repaired.Not too far from Pfeiffer Big Sur State Park is Pfeiffer Beach, one of my favorite coastal spots along the Pacific.

It has big crashing waves, arched rocks, dunes, and — brrrr — chilly water.

We were there mid-day, and Pfeiffer is gorgeous all day long, but let me tell you that if you really want to see something spectacular, visit Pfeiffer at sunset.

The boys discovered they love the “sandfall” effect when climbing a steep hill of sand.

Logan wrote an obligatory “UFOs Land Here” message in the sand.

It’s all fun and games until you whip yourself on the butt.

Working on these pictures makes me long to return to Big Sur. Next up, Point Lobos!