We look like racoons without our sunglasses. My feet are streaked from my sandal straps. Bob's ankles wear permanent sock marks. Our palms are like little monkeys' - creamy pink compared to the rugged brown of our fingers and hands. The tans snuck up on us.
There is evidence further down in the campground that the little bear cub has torn up several garbage cans' contents and littered them in the field. Strangely enough, we are not scared.
We visit the Lady Bird Johnson Redwood National Park. There is a huge cement bridge leading over the creek to the trail. While the trees are large and impressive, we find we liked the State Park much better, as it did not feel so commercialized.
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