Trees of Mystery
The next day we were at the Trees of Mystery. It smacked of tacky tourism, but only to cynical adults. My daughter was ecstatic. "Well, hey there Kimi. Have you been on the trail yet?" the mighty lumberjack asked.

We took Paul Bunyan's suggestion, paid our entry fee (Adults, $14; kids aged 4-11, $7) and climbed the well-laid trail that weaved through the marvelous grove of iconic trees.

Placards and self-contained recordings were scattered along the shadowy path, helping us recognize the natural mysteries of this forest: the zigzag growth of the Lightning Tree; the Cathedral Trees, which are a semicircle of nine trees that grew from a fallen matron; the Elephant Tree, which no matter how many times Kimi and I circled never gave the appearance of a pachyderm.

At the top of the trail we found the Sky Trail, a Plexiglas-enclosed gondola that took us for a seven-minute ride through the redwood canopy, a flight normally reserved for osprey and owls. At the summit, an observation deck offered a view of a forest landscape unblemished by chainsaws and axes.

A Slippery Slope
On the return trip, you could opt for the gondola or, as Kimi and I did, hike down the Wilderness Trail. I suspected the trail was a tad precarious when the gondola operator insisted we each take one of the supplied walking sticks. Kimi's choice was whittled smooth and laser-straight. My stick looked to have been cut from the Lightning Tree, zigzagged and knobby.

As we filled our steel canteens with water, the operator called to us again. "Use the descent ropes when you see them," he warned. Descent ropes? My wife was not going to be happy when she heard this one. The first 100 yards of the trail was a simple walking path. Then it dropped steeply.

The challenge of the trail gave me the opportunity to show her what Dad showed me. "Watch for loose gravel... Careful of the tree roots... Don't hold the stick in front of you, but to the side." And while every slip of her boot heightened my blood pressure, she enjoyed each step.

Along the route, we took a rest on a downed log. She leaned against me and poked the ground with her walking stick. A lizard darted out. She gave chase. This was the experience I had hoped for. Maybe she wouldn't remember it, but I would.

Tall Tales
The trail ended at the lower gondola station and merged into the Trail of Tall Tales. This last section was devoted to Paul Bunyan's fable, which was told in chainsaw-carved sculptures scattered along the path.

It was clear from these massive works that chainsaws were designed for chopping down trees, not for creating art. While their scale was impressive, if the Trees of Mystery consisted solely of these rudimentary carvings, it would not have survived the past 40 years.

The grove's collection of magnificent and odd redwood trees should be enough to draw tourists here, but sadly they are not. It takes a 50-foot effigy and his oversized blue bull to entice travelers off the road and away from their schedules.

The trail emptied into the End of the Trail Native American Museum. This extensive museum and gift shop contained a remarkable collection of Native America artifacts that was, in fact, worth seeing even if we were not incline to walk the mountain. Turns out the museum can be entered from the parking lot, and there's no fee.