Hidden Beach, Klamath
Deep in the Redwood National forest lies a faint trail behind Motel Trees in Klamath, California.
I was a bit intimidated but also really excited to reach the cove that the local people had told me about. I set afoot determined to catch sunset. Looking back at Highway 101, unsure if it was wise of me to venture into such a rich forest with nothing but a flashlight, camera, and hammock. My nervousness would increase as I walked deeper though the lush forest. The songs the birds sang echoed and the wind rustled the leaves around me - or so I hoped. With the lively vegetation and vibrance of the green surrounding me, I was in awe and felt at ease the more I breathed the moist air. I was torn in between the rush of hiking through an unknown place unprotected and the charm of the environment itself. After a decaying bridge, dodging logs covered in moss, and hiking very low to get through a tunnel bordered by trees and shrubs - Hidden Beach was found.
After stretching my spine upright at the end of the tunnel, my eyes followed. I scanned the private beach with a glowing cliffside spanning along the northern California coast and extending itself to the sky with the colossal Redwood trees. I reached Hidden Beach fourteen hours north of Los Angeles. How I wished everyone I knew was able to share this virgin place, unmoving time, and gentle rays of sunshine with me.
The grey sediment molded to my feet while I turned to see the secluded cove around me. The dark grey sand permits the white logs and sticks to stand out. Each dark grain contrasted the ivory wood though they lived in harmony. Both soft to the touch and covering the beach.
I was fortunate to come across an enormous log that had been washed on top of large rocks. It balanced perfectly since half of the log was positioned on a couple of boulders and the other half was free to sit seven feet above the ground. I tossed two ropes over the log so I could hang my hammock. I climbed onto the red fabric and let it sculpt my back. I felt the purity of this moment in my lungs. Breathing the crisp air as the temperature dropped along with each increment the sun moved closer to the horizon line.