Driving the windy dirt roads through the park was reminiscent of a video game where the trees are impossibly thick and the curves are at the same time terrifying and uplifting.

Occasionally popping out of our car to explore, we discovered millennia-old trees taller and stronger than skyscrapers. The one at left fell victim to loggers (before the land was protected), but it made its mark nonetheless.

Before the afternoon was done, we headed back to Rte 101--and back to Oregon.

We meandered across the Oregon border--waving California farewell--and enjoyed lunch in Brookings, the most southerly coastal Oregon town. The history I learned in Brookings blew my mind: Brookings was one of two places in the continental United States that was bombed by enemies. This occurred during World War II. As a history buff, I had never heard of such an event. We were bombed? On the mainland? Indeed. [Warning: history lesson to follow.]

On September 9, 1942, a Japanese fighter plane dropped incendiary bombs in the forests of Brookings--and later Port Orford. The tiny plane had folded wings and was packaged in a Japanese submarine. The intention of the Japanese was to inspire large-scale fires that would cause destruction in the area and, more significantly, panic among Americans who felt guarded by their geography. Alas, the wet northwest climate dampened any hopes of raging fires, and no harm was caused. In fact, so minor was the damage that the U.S. government was able to cover up the bombings completely. For years the attack on American soil went unreported; as a result, most well-educated Americans are still unaware of the attacks more than two generations later.

The American mainland, for the only time, was attacked by an airplane. And, of all places, the forests beside two tiny towns in a remote locale of southern Oregon were the targets. (It's no wonder the Japanese lost the war.)

Perhaps more bizarre than the actual event of the bombing is its epilogue. Twenty years after the attack on American soil, the Japanese bomber pilot returned to the site of the bombing--as an invited guest.

Nobuo Fujita offered his 400-year-old Samurai sword--which he had carried with him on his benevolent mission in '42--to the town as a gesture of good will. The sword now hangs in the Brookings city library.

Nobuo Fujita visited Oregon several times again. He was an honorary invitee at the town's Azalea Festival. On the fifteenth anniversary of the attack, Fujita returned to commemorate a new trail to the bomb site; the 80-year-old former pilot hiked to the bomb crater and planted a redwood tree seedling in the center.

The Brookings City Council declared Fujita an honorary citizen. Nobuo Fujita, the only person to drop a bomb on the American mainland, now rests his ashes at the site of his bombing.

At Port Orford, we were greeted by the proprietors of the Bed & Breakfast I discovered online. Alan and Brenda Mitchell had, over the course of their 36 years of marriage, built a cozy two-story house, magnificently situated on the cliffs of the Oregon coast. The Mitchell's Home by the Sea B&B was, in fact, their home by the sea. The home included two bedrooms on the second floor, which were rented out to travelers like ourselves. The bedroom faced the largest stretch of uninterrupted ocean on the planet--a staggering 6,000 miles.

Within moments of walking in the door, an eager Alan told us to prepare for a tour of Port Orford. Alan reminded us that the good weather and clear view could disintegrate at any point, so we drove to a park beside the old Coast Guard station.

At the first stop on the trail, Alan told us to sit down, relax, and enjoy the view. Below left, Beth looks eastward as Alan describes the spot. Below right, the view from the bench.