Eugene, OR to Redwood National Park, CA

I made it to California! And the most entertaining way to do so, in my opinion, is by way of a good ole "produce check" at the state border. Especially when it is a thorough investigation. Let me demonstrate just how in depth the experience was:

Produce Checker: "Hello ma'am, how are you?"
Me: "Great thanks! You?"
PC: "Good. Have any produce with you?"
Me: "Nope."
PC: "Okay, have a nice day."

Certified produce-free me meandered into the state and then the trees just began to grow. And grow. I made it to the Redwoods Youth Hostel in a relatively uneventful manner and figured my evening would simply consist of a little uke jam on the beach (oh, the soft sand out here is amazing) to sing the sun to sleep. And while some of that happened... my evening was far from uneventful;)

I met a woman who has been biking for about six months, started in South Carolina, and was staying at the hostel (albeit in a little more acceptable way - I am nearing the "no money" section of this trip so for me staying in the hostel is more like sleeping in the hostel parking lot). She was fascinating to talk to and luckily I found out she has a blog (crazyguyonabike.com search for Reclaiming Blue America by Beth Kodluboy). I say luckily because while I adore listening to other people's adventures, I understand the process of having to answer the same questions over and over. So I sucked up as much conversation with her as I felt was fair and then gave her some beach time to herself. Not moments later, I met Jerome - crazy hippie boy from Colorado - who was headed down the beach with his mom Donna to check out a dead sea lion. Count me in! Jerome issued a quick warning, "So.... hope it doesn't freak you out. My mom is bringing some knives and might try to take some of the hide or teeth...." And while the stench of the massive dead animal was oh so less-than-pleasant, Donna snagged herself a prize lion tooth;) Not to be outdone, the livelier animals in the area decided to try for some attention (not necessarily Dental attention, more like photographic appreciation). As the sun sank, a troupe of feisty, ambling sea otters danced across the shoreline.

Back at the hostel, another woman biking down the coast pulled out a guitar and played around for a while. Turns out this hostel has a whole nice collection of instruments. Including the winner of all instruments: a driftwood didgeridoo!! It was ENORMOUS but undaunted, I tried to play it... pseudo-successfully. Apparently some people give massages with didges. And who doesn't love a good massage? So a few of us tried it out. Next time someone offers you an opportunity to receive a didgeridoo massage, please accept. It is hilariously awesome. Massaged into exhaustion, I headed to the outdoors for some sleep.