One of my fondest memories from the trip my sister and I took across the country in 1975 was our visit with Cousin Donna Marie. We pulled up in her yard in our old beat up jalopy and she ran out to meet us. Though she was close in age to my mother, she had the energy of a teenager. We immediately knew we were kindred spirits and would have the time of our lives.
Donna Marie was always ready to head out on an adventure. First, we explored the area where she lived in Brookings, Oregon. We rode to the coast and climbed down the cliffs and explored tidal pools teeming with life. Waves of the Pacific Ocean crashed onto the beach and showered the rocky pinnacles just offshore. The wind whistled through natural bridges created by years of water and wind pounding the rugged cliffs. We wandered up and down narrow trails in awe of the wonder of creation. It was like walking through an ancient wonderland of sagious Sitka Spruce trees. Moss draped from low hanging branches and over open archways like whiskers hanging from an old man’s chin. The sound of the ocean was hypnotizing. We had to pull ourselves away from the scenes and sounds that drew us like a magnet.
Natural Bridge 
Donna Marie 
Sis & me after lugging that piece of driftwood up the cliff
Sis looks really small next to that huge tree
We made random stops and explored along the Pacific Coastline as we drove to Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park. The park, established in 1929, is named for Jedediah Smith who was the first white man to explore the interior of Northern California in the 1820’s. We pitched our tent on a soft bed of layers of decomposing Redwood needles and camped in the old growth of Redwoods. Our food was cooked over a campfire surrounded by river rocks, the limbs of the Redwood titans far above us reaching into the sky. We met up with other cousins and swam in the cold Smith River.
Campfire in Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park
Cousins
Our adventure took us to Crescent City, California where we saw evidence of the Tsunami of 1964. We gathered for lunch, met cousins we had never seen before and made a shaky human pyramid. We visited a sawmill and toured a house made of all kinds of wood. An elaborate staircase led upstairs to several rooms, the walls and floor of each covered with a different kind of wood. My favorite was the room of curly redwood. The rich colors and smells still linger in my memory.
After other adventures, it was time to continue north. We pulled out of Cousin Donna Marie’s driveway a lot richer because of the bond of friendship and family. We knew our paths would cross again.