Driving from Yrka, California up through the southernmost border of Oregon, to come splintering back into California through giant redwoods, I had to pass through a number of tiny towns that fly past on the highway without a second glance, the only reason for stopping being the rumble in a tummy or an interesting sideshow attraction. I stopped in Grants Pass for the first, a yearning on my lips for something more solid than just coffee and gas station donuts. Having stashed some fresh bread and 4 lovely warm apple turnovers in my car, I thought about taking a look around, to see what this small town might have hidden at it’s center. What I found was a lovely passionate calm that reminded me of the smaller towns i’ve passed through in Texas, and the beauty of being surrounded all around by mountains tall and cold, a fine fog and mist covering and uncovering the town on it’s whim. A perfect stop before heading into the dark and magnificent quiet of the Redwood Highway.