There’s something humbling about standing among giants. A few weekends month ago, I set out on a whirlwind road trip to Humboldt County, trading life in the city for towering redwoods and coastal fog. It wasn’t just about the destination, though — it was about the 1,000-mile journey, the quiet roads, the anticipation of glimpsing ancient forests older than history itself. With little more than a camera, a loose itinerary, and the company of a good friend (@ladybugfarmimages), I drove into one of the most surreal landscapes in North America.
My trip started in Sacramento after a rather swift four hour flight from Chicago (I ended up buying this ticket since it was $109 on Southwest). These flights are always scenic when sitting on the port side of the plane looking south first at the Rocky Mountains and then down at the deserts of Northern Nevada. I always forget just how close Sacramento is to Lake Tahoe and the Sierras.
Given that it was not more than 50 degrees in Chicago, I was surprised to find that it was 90+ degrees in the Sacramento Valley. Sacramento airport might be one of the nicer medium sized airports in the country, there was certainly some interesting art work on display at the airport:
I picked up my rental car from National (a rather impressive Buick Enclave which i grew fond of over the trip) and was on my way. I made a quick stop about hundred miles in to pick up my good friend Rajesh in Sonoma before heading North. It was a good 4.5 hour drive North from Sonoma, but went by rather quickly given the good company. Would I recommend you do this on your own? Probably not if you were low on sleep. It’s rather dark up there and there were several instances where we saw deer run onto the road in front of us. Luckily two pairs of eyes are better than one and we were able to get to our destination without a hitch.
My friend Rajesh booked an Airbnb owned by local photographer Zack Stanton (go check out his work if you haven’t because it’s amazing). Here is a link to the property if you are interested in a reasonably priced place to stay in while exploring Humboldt County (note: this is not a referral link). Zach and Caroline are great hosts and made sure we were comfortable throughout our stay.
Day 1: Old Growth Forest and Sunset on the Coast
On our first day in Humboldt County, Rajesh and I ended up wandering through this incredible old-growth forest—massive trees, ferns everywhere, and a quiet little creek running right through the middle of it. It honestly felt like something straight out of the Hoh Rainforest up in Olympic National Park.
Now, I’m not exactly a botanist or plant nerd or anything, so when Rajesh and our friend Zach told me, “You want old growth for photos,” I just kind of nodded and went with it. But man, I get it now. The trees had this ancient, moody vibe, the light was soft and perfect, and everything just felt… untouched. By the end of it, I was already turning into an old-growth snob too.
Turns out, when you’re in a redwood forest, it gets dark way faster than you’d expect—even compared to a regular forest. The trees are just so tall and dense that they block out the light pretty quickly. By the time I realized how dim it was getting, I had already wandered a little too far in. Naturally, it took us a while to make our way back to the car, which meant we were scrambling to get to our sunset spot in time.
We had high hopes for some wildflower magic at our sunset spot—but those were crushed pretty much the moment we showed up. With the sun sinking fast and not much else to work with, we scrambled to find a decent composition. In a moment of sheer desperation (or maybe genius?), I just tossed myself into the frame. When all else fails, slap a human in the 1/3 position of an epic scene and call it art. Works every time on social media 🙂
After sunset, we made our way to a local spot called Dutchy’s Pizza—an Indo-American pizzeria tucked away in town. We went with the Hot Goat and Achari Gobhi pizzas, and honestly, they were fantastic. The flavors were bold and on point, the crust hit that perfect balance of crispy and chewy, and overall the quality was top-notch. One thing I’ve noticed about California: even in the most random, remote corners, the food scene rarely disappoints.
Day 2: Misty Redwoods and Ancient Ferns
The following morning, Rajesh and I were chatting with Zack about the best photography spots in the Redwoods and completely lost track of time. Our plan was to visit the legendary Damnation Creek in Redwood National Park, renowned for its striking coastal fog that frequently creates ethereal displays of light filtering through towering redwoods. Due to our extended conversation, we arrived at the trail just as the fog was beginning to dissipate. Luckily, Rajesh had warned me beforehand that the fog occasionally rolls back in, so I managed to capture a couple of stunning shots of the majestic trees bathed in fleeting mist.
Once the dramatic fog cleared, the harsh sunlight made conventional tree photography challenging. After trudging around with my head down in slight disappointment, I began noticing intriguing patterns on the forest floor, including some beautiful trillium flowers.
We spent most of the morning exploring the forest before heading to our second destination, Fern Canyon. Located within Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park, Fern Canyon is famous for its lush walls covered in a variety of vibrant ferns, some of which have lineages dating back approximately 325 million years, creating an almost primeval atmosphere.
Interestingly, Fern Canyon restricts public vehicle access without permits during the summer months to protect this delicate environment. Fortunately for us, official summer restrictions were set to begin just a week after our visit. Still, reaching Fern Canyon was an off-road adventure involving several stream crossings, rocky terrain, and loose gravel. Some vehicles turned back due to insufficient clearance—definitely not a recommended route for sedans!
Also, it’s highly recommended to bring water-resistant footwear for this hike, as the entire trail involves wading through ankle-deep, cold water. Fern Canyon has served as a backdrop for numerous films, most notably “Jurassic Park,” and I personally couldn’t stop marveling at how much it resembled the natural green walls found at a Centurion Lounge.
Rajesh and I wandered the area for a good three hours, taking in the sights and soothing sounds of flowing creeks contrasted against the lush fern-covered walls. No number of photographs could fully capture the beauty of this enchanting place. Remarkably, even though it was a Saturday, the canyon wasn’t crowded; most visitors simply snapped a few pictures and quickly left, without truly lingering to appreciate its tranquility. After our trudge through Fern Canyon, we were tired and hungry, ready to call it a day despite the promising sky as sunset approached. On a whim, I ventured out onto one of the beaches near Fern Canyon and found a beautiful array of lupines lining the trail.
I didn’t have time to explore more, but the beach at Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park looked just as pristine and untouched as the rest of the park.
For dinner, we headed to the Redwood Curtain Brewing Company, which conveniently has a Pan-Asian food truck parked out back. I grabbed a house-made root beer from the brewery and ordered the Sweet Potato & Goat Cheese Salad with a side of Garlic-Parmesan Fries. The presentation and flavors were surprisingly impressive—yet another wonderful surprise in Arcata.
Day 3: Of Ferns, Flowers, and Foam
On our last day in the Redwoods, I had planned to spend the morning shooting more woodland photography. But Rajesh suggested we head toward the coast instead, where he’d heard reports of a spectacular lupine bloom. “Some variety would be good,” he said, nudging me away from the usual trudge through sparse forest wildflowers. I agreed, and we kicked off the day with breakfast at Los Bagels in Eureka on our way out—a local favorite and a solid start to our coastal detour. I got the jalapeno bagel with veggie cream cheese, red onions, cucumbers, and jalapenos. I don’t kid when I say I can’t find this good of a bagel in a city like Chicago!
The drive to California’s Lost Coast—so named because of its remote, rugged nature and lack of major highways—felt like a step back in time. It’s one of the least developed stretches of shoreline in the state, largely due to the steep coastal mountains that make infrastructure difficult. The route involves crossing a bridge that leads into the Victorian town of Ferndale, a charming place frozen in time with its historic storefronts and pastoral surroundings. That bridge, however, stands as the only direct link to this isolated stretch of coast—and because of the region’s seismic activity, it’s particularly vulnerable. The area lies near the Mendocino Triple Junction, where three tectonic plates meet, making it one of the most seismically active zones in North America. Any major quake could easily sever access to the coast, leaving Ferndale and the surrounding region even more cut off from the rest of the world.
Ferndale is so picturesque and well-preserved that it even served as inspiration for a LEGO Architecture set—its classic main street and gingerbread-style buildings look like they’ve been lifted straight from a toy model. Walking through the town almost feels like stepping into a life-sized diorama, complete with art galleries, old-school bakeries, and quirky general stores.
From Ferndale, we followed Mattole Road as it snaked its way into the hills and toward the coast. The drive itself was an experience—lush groves of trees and dense patches of ferns flanked either side of the narrow, winding road. Morning light streamed through the canopy, illuminating the moss-covered branches and creating a golden, almost enchanted glow. It was one of those drives where you can’t help but slow down, partly because of the sharp curves and partly because you just want to soak it all in.
At one point we reached a plateau from where you could see the sea and the coastal hills along with some farms in the area.
And of course off in the distance on the other side was more of the coast.
As we approached the coast, pastures began to open up, dotted with vibrant patches of lupines swaying gently in the breeze. We pulled over a few times to admire them, though much of the land was privately owned, which limited access. The silver lining? A pair of horses—one I appropriately named Shadowfax—stood peacefully in one of the pastures, framed perfectly against the dramatic silhouette of Sugarloaf Island. It was a picture-perfect moment.
Further along, just before the road curled back inland toward civilization, we stumbled upon a coastal stretch blanketed in lupines. I framed a few compositions with Shiprock and Sugarloaf Mountain anchoring the background, the sea breeze and late-morning light adding a gentle dynamism to the scene.
As we made our way back to Highway 101, storm clouds began to roll in. At one of the scenic overlooks, the landscape transformed into something far more dramatic—moody skies, vibrant treetops, and soft light illuminating the meadows below. In the distance, a river carved its way through the valley. It was the kind of atmospheric beauty that made us pull over in awe, one last gift from the Lost Coast before we turned homeward.
I say homeward, but just as we were about to rejoin Highway 101 and head south, we found ourselves once again surrounded by towering giants—this time in Humboldt Redwoods State Park. Nestled along the Avenue of the Giants, the park preserves the largest contiguous old-growth redwood forest in the world. Because we had entered from one of the less-frequented western approaches, the grove we wandered into was steeped in pindrop silence. No crowds. No traffic. Just the sound of our footsteps on the forest floor and the quiet majesty of these ancient beings rising skyward. It was a fitting, humbling close to a weekend spent in the company of giants.
Or so I thought. As we approached Sonoma County, where I was supposed to drop Rajesh off, the skies lit up one final time. A last hurrah of color streaked across the horizon, catching us by surprise. We quickly pulled off the road and scrambled to capture what we could—tripods half-set, lenses hastily swapped. It wasn’t a planned stop, but in many ways, it was the perfect metaphor for the trip: fleeting, but brilliant.
Day 4: The Homestretch
After a quick overnight stay at the Hyatt House Sacramento Airport, I had a few hours to reconnect with a childhood friend over lunch before boarding my flight back home to Texas. By then, I was running on fumes after 72 hours of adventure and driving. Feeling lazy, I stowed my cameras in the overhead bin, assuming the excitement was behind me. Little did I know, the flight out would rival the one into SMF.
As we climbed above the clouds, the view once again delivered—so I did what I could and reeled in a few last shots on my phone.
And of course the sunset was fantastic over the lakes adjacent to DFW:
