12 Miles north of
John Muir emigrated with his parent’s family from
He called himself a graduate of “the University of the Wilderness” who wandered the forests and hills of his day. He came to believe that the relationship between humans and the rest of nature is that between equal forms of life—that all had the same inherent right to exist.
Muir was an influential early conservationist writer. This park honors his memory.
June 12, 2007: But getting to this most beautiful, quiet, cool redwood grove is a pain in the neck.
San Francisco Bay traffic, especially the ghastly San Raphael bottleneck, which has been a miserable squeeze of motorized mayhem my entire adult life—that is, for years and years—is as awful as it gets except for LA in the summer.
Big automated highway signs on US 101 will warn you if the Muir Woods parking lot is full—and if the highway sign says it is full—it is FULL. Don’t think “someone will soon leave and there’ll be a space for me because no one ever leaves! (I don’t know where they go.)
There are crowds of people walking the trails from opening at 8am until closing at sunset every day of the year—but fewer early and late on weekdays.
Many of the visitors are appreciative adults from foreign lands and most are impressed by the magnificent, immense redwood trees.
There is a pretty brook and some native birds and the calmness and peace of the place are healing to the spirit.
Go there.
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