We've made it back to civilisation in San Francisco, and have had an amazing time getting here.

Following our night camping at Cape Blanco in Oregon, we got packed up and back on the road, heading down along the wild southern Oregon coast, a lot like Scotland in places, with windswept grassy headlands over steep rocky cliffs.

After driving across the tallest bridge in Oregon (and getting out to take some photos) we crossed into California and continued south before entering the towering coastal redwood forests. The trees were immense, stretching hundreds of feet into the air, and the roads were built to weave between them, with the edge of the road often inches from the trunk of a ten foot wide giant. Eventually we reached Jedediah Smith State Park, our stop for the night. We chose an amazing campsite down beside the Smith river, which ran wide and shallow, with the most amazing water, greeny-blue from a distance but crystal clear up close. After pitching our tent under the huge ancient redwoods, and securing our food in the big metal bear-proof lockers, we relaxed for the early afternoon.

Later, we headed across the Smith to try a walk up the riverbank to Stout Grove, allegedly one of the most impressive examples of coastal redwood forests in existence. After making our way along two miles of twisting trails above the river, through amazing five-hundred plus year old trees, we reached a sign reading 'Stout Grove 0.1 miles' pointing across a deep, fast-flowing stream swollen with meltwater that there was no way we could cross. Frustrated that we couldn't reach the grove, we made our way back along the trail, jumped in the car and drove back across the river, up the road a few miles, crossed some more bridges and drove down a bumpy dirt road (Don't tell the car rental company) to reach the grove, which was well worth the effort. We wandered between the humongous trees before, not in the mood for campfire cooking, driving to nearby Crescent City for some dinner then back to the camp to sleep.

After another decent sleep in the tent, we got packed up and headed to Safeway for supplies, where I picked up a '$5 Friday' special of a sandwich as big as a small dog, filled with every kind of cold meat plus cheese and salad, a complete bargain.

Fully prepared, we set off to explore more of the redwood forests. Heading further south to Prairie Creek State Park, much closer to the coast, we embarked on a spectacular three mile hike through the redwood rainforests. A mile-long climb took us up a steep, rooty, twisting trail under huge fallen redwood trunks, through waist-high ferns to the Rhododendron Trail. Expecting the amazing sight of the rhododendrons in full bloom, we were disappointed to find them still a long way off flowering. Nonetheless, we enjoyed the rest of our walk, descending down a shallower but winding path through amazing rainforest valleys packed with behemoth trees and lush ferns with thick carpets of sorrel, with huge clover-like leaves and pretty white and pink flowers. The path eventually met up with and followed a clear creek back to the car. Walking among the trees for so long it was easy to forget how big they were, but every time Lucy walked ahead and I saw her standing beside one of the redwoods, it reminded you just how massive they were.

After our hike we carried on our way, stopping off at various signposted 'big tree's before entering Redwood National Park. Here, we drove up a steep hill for some miles before walking a short nature trail through the Lady Bird Johnson Memorial Grove, which was pretty, but the groomed environment was nowhere near as impressive as the wild forest we had experienced on our walk earlier in the day.

From the National Park we got back onto the 101 and headed south for some miles until reaching Humboldt Redwood State Park. Here, we found a campsite and whilst driving round looking for a site, in what must be a one in a million chance, we spotted Elliot, a guy we had met in the hostel in Portland. He and his girlfriend Iona had set off south from Portland to Crater Lake in Oregon, but had given up on the way after realising how cold it would be at the altitdue of 6,000 ft. They had made their way to the coast and had been following a similar route to ours. We set up our tent in the space next to theirs and spent the evening round the campfire swapping stories of our road trips so far, and plans for the next part.

The next day, after a tipoff the previous night from Elliot and Iona, we headed off to Shelter Cove, a town on the 'lost coast', and area of rugged coast which Highway 101 goes inland to skirt around. We followed the twisting 23 mile road up and down crazy inclines, round hairpin bends before eventually reaching the cove. There, we were rewarded with views of the huge black sand beach and the beach in the cove itself which reminded me very much of the beaches on Lewis, with rock pools in amongst ancient, gnarly lava flows and seals popping up in the waves offshore.

After guddling around in the rock pools and being buzzed by some vultures or some such unsavoury-looking birds on the beach, we finished off the monster sandwich, which had provided both lunch and dinner the previous day, before making our way back along the crazy winding road to the 101. Heading south, we turned onto Highway 1, and then had to make a similar twenty-something mile trip along winding, twisting wooded roads before finally turning to head south along the coast, which resembled a mixture of west and east coast Scotland to my eye. Passing through the pleasant-looking town of Fort Bragg, where we stopped for some fuel and a coffee, we bumped into Iona and Elliot again and after deciding to reduce costs by sharing a campsite, headed south together through the beautiful looking town of Mendocino and its nearby beaches to our final campsite at Van Damme State Park. We got our camp set up and the fire going before another evening of chatting and drinking cheap red wine.

This morning, after another early start we had breakfast at the camp then bid au revoir to Elliot and Iona, with plans to meet up at some point in San Francisco. We headed back to Mendocino and took a leisurely cruise through its streets in the morning sunshine, checking out the gorgeous and immaculately maintained wooden victorian houses and church, perched on cliffs over the Pacific, which was the most amazing shade of blue in the bright sunshine.

We then took a side road up the length of Van Damme State Park to the pygmy forest, where a boardwalk nature trail looped through an area filled with stunted trees and shrubs, a result of anomalous poor soil conditions on that particular plateau above the Pacific. Whilst not as striking as their two-hundred foot tall cousins, it was amazing to think that some of the trees we were walking past, though only a few feet tall, were nearly a hundred years old in some cases.

From the pygmy grove we took a path winding down to the Fern Canyon trail, taking us from the dry and open area of the grove down some nin-hundred feet to a canyon floor, the trees becoming taller and taller and the ground more lushly coated with greenery the lower we descended. On our way we were finally treated to some flowering rhododendrons, their bright pink flowers gorgeous in the sunshine.

From the floor of the Fern Canyon we followed an incredible winding trail along the Little River, then up a winding path through the forest back to the car. We hadn't intended to hike as far as we did, but the amazing scenery was well worth it.

On our way again, we decided to stop for lunch at Queenie's Roadside Diner outside Elk. In a case of terrible timing, our arrival coincided with two or three large mother's day parties being served when we arrived. To cut a long story short, we had to wait nearly an hour and a half to get our lunch, but when we got it, were rewarded with some fantastic sandwiches, almost worth the wait.

With our blood-sugar levels suitably replenished we carried on south along the stunning Pacific coast, winding up and down Highway 1, in and out of countless coves and round headlands on roads often perched hundreds of feet above the sea. The weather couldn't have been better for a coastal drive, with bright clear blue skies giving the ocean the most amazing greeny-blue, vibrant hue.

From the very Scotland-esque scenery of Mendocino county we moved into Sonoma county then finally inland slightly through Marin County, where the rolling grassy hills dotted with clumps of trees and shrubs could have been nearly anywhere in the UK, with cows and sheep grazing here and there. However, we soon appeared back at the coast, once again winding high above the Pacific and then through the Marin Headlands, before popping through a tunnel and getting our first view of the Golden Gate Bridge, an amazing sight.

We cruised across the bridge into San Francisco and found our way to the hostel, not far away in an old barracks/hospital in Fort Mason, in Fisherman's Wharf. After getting settled we got chatting to a couple from the UK, Jacob and Jenny, so we headed out together for some pizza before returning to the hostel to catch up on laundry before bed.