Ferns are everywhere along the Fern Canyon trail in Russian Gulch State Park. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

The name says it all—Fern Canyon. That’s exactly what this hike in Russian Gulch State Park in Mendocino is all about—a canyon full of ferns.

With redwoods seeming to scratch the sky, sunlight filtered in between the boughs, casting light on the fern blades like a gentle spotlight.

The waterfall is the bonus feature along the Fern Canyon trail in Russian Gulch State Park. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

Stunning. It’s the word that kept entering my mind.

Every few feet I wanted to take a picture. More often I stood there trying to take a mental picture to have this seared into my memory.

Outside of a paint store I didn’t know there were so many shades of green. Each one beautiful in this landscape.

Ferns crawl up the hillside. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

A soft layer of forest duff created a natural cushion along this mostly compact dirt trail.

Hiking in California in late September it seems so unlikely to find a waterfall flowing beyond a trickle. While the volume is a fraction of what it will be six months from now, it was still tumbling with some gusto.

The Fern Canyon hike was 6.12 miles, with 593 feet of elevation gain. The minimum elevation was 117 feet and max was 622.

The Mendocino coast is mesmerizing. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

The whole excursion at this state park was about 10 miles.

Next up was tackling part of the South Headlands Trail that brings in views of the Frederick W. Panhorst Bridge; a distinct concrete arch span. This is Highway 1 crossing the park.

Along this trail the mighty Pacific Ocean roars. The cliffs, the rocks, the waves—all breathtaking. I never get tired of seeing this enormous body of water. Something so mesmerizing about the power, the intensity, the raw beauty.

This bridge crosses the Russian Gulch State Park. (Image: Kathryn Reed)

Then I drove a short ways to the Devil’s Punch Bowl trail. This super short circular walk is above a sink hole that is 110 feet across and 60 feet deep.

“At high tide boiling waves crash around the cave’s interior, producing a reverberant echo,” according to a State Park’s brochure.

While this isn’t a very big park—it has 7,630 feet of rocky shore, is about three-quarters of a mile wide and 3 miles long—we should all be thankful people saw its value and made it a state park in 1934.

I experienced more of the park a few days later on my bike–though not intentionally. That’s a story for another day.