The sun is high, but slowly hinting that eventually it will slink in to sunset. The road we’re on swerves down a mountain and we periodically hit the breaks for small black bears running across the road. Eventually we leave the monumental redwoods with their mystical vibes and end up on a misty, black sandy beach in Northern California. We stop in a small shack to order freshly fried fish and chips as we wrap our jackets tightly around us to keep the wind from biting in to our skin and squint out in to the ocean view to try to site some whales. How’s it possible that the beach is colder than the mountain tops?
Either way, there’s nothing like Northern California. As you walk among the redwoods, peace invades you to the core. Even if you hate fantasy like me, you suddenly understand why stories of fairies and magic exist because as you look up through the towering trees, you feel so small and the moment feels so large. As you drive PCH with the craggy, beautiful mountains jutting out in the sea, you can’t help but sit in awe over how beautiful this world really is. There’s not just one view to admire, there are hundreds. And after a few days you feel like you’ve detoxed from all the stress in your life. Or at least, I do.