Accessible Sonoma County: Exploring the Redwoods 

About me: I love travel. I also live with a progressive mobility disability, but I don’t let that stop me from visiting new places, particularly nature and wilderness destinations, which I especially enjoy. As a consultant, disability advocate, and writer living in San Francisco, I’m able to take in new places, often bringing my husband, our two sons, and the dog. I use an adapted tricycle to enjoy the outdoors, and here, I explore Armstrong Redwoods State Natural Reserve in Guerneville.

A Detour to Armstrong Redwoods State Natural Reserve

The Russian River is famous for its namesake river and the vineyards that line its valley. Rows of vines roll gently across the landscape, and in autumn, the hills are brushed with color – green giving way to burnished golds, russets, and copper reds. Most people come here for the wine, the tastings, and the easy pastoral beauty of Sonoma County. But on our way to The Sea Ranch, we decided to take a detour – to trade vineyards for giants – and spend a few quiet hours among the ancient trees of Armstrong Redwoods State Natural Reserve.

Having fallen under the spell of Humboldt County’s old-growth redwoods on an earlier road trip, we wanted to see what this smaller, more accessible grove might offer. We weren’t disappointed. If you love nature, tranquility, and the hush of towering redwoods, but don’t want to drive all the way north to Humboldt or brave the tour buses at Muir Woods, Armstrong Redwoods State Natural Reserve is a perfect alternative: Intimate, serene, and deeply humbling.

The Journey as Part of the Destination: Arriving

From San Francisco, we headed north, leaving behind the sprawl of the city and its fog-draped hills. The drive through the Russian River Valley is one of Northern California’s quiet pleasures. The road winds past vineyards, which on our trip, were glowing with the last warmth of October, the vines a tapestry of yellow, amber, and olive green. We passed Korbel Champagne Cellars and a handful of small, family-run wineries. Gradually, the terrain began to shift – flatter fields giving way to clusters of oak and pine. The air grew cooler, softer, and sweeter. And then, almost imperceptibly, the redwoods began.

The entrance to Armstrong Redwoods is understated, tucked off a narrow road that winds through the town of Guerneville. A simple sign and a small ranger booth mark the gateway to a world that feels almost primeval. Inside, the light changes. It filters down in long, golden beams that seem to slow time itself. The air thickens with the scent of earth and resin, a mix of pine needles, damp bark, and moss. The temperature drops noticeably, and the forest envelops you like a cathedral – dim, reverent, alive.

Even on a weekday in October, there were a few families picnicking, hikers ambling quietly down the trails, and the occasional burst of laughter echoing faintly among the trees. But it never felt crowded. The scale of the redwoods makes even a group of people seem insignificant, swallowed by the vast vertical space.

Features for Disabled Travelers

Going into the parking lot, I was pleasantly surprised by the number of ADA parking spots – there seemed to be at least one in each corner. There are different areas of the parking lot according to which trail you’d like to visit. Armstrong Redwoods State Natural Reserve offers a variety of trails, from short, easy walks to more challenging hikes that lead up the canyon or toward a seasonal waterfall. For a wheelchair or adapted-bike user, I suggest the Pioneer Grove Trail, as it was sufficiently wide and relatively flat (some of the others, leading to the waterfalls, looked gorgeous but the ups and downs were intimidating).

For my adapted tricycle, it was perfect: Wide enough to maneuver easily, with just enough incline to make it interesting. For a wheelchair user, this trail is manageable with either a free wheel, fat tires, or a companion helping you over the occasional rough patches. I found it easier to maneuver than, for example, the Hoh Rainforest in Olympic National Park, which has large roots, unwieldy for a chair or even trike to get over; and comparable to Founders Grove in Humboldt – the trail retains its natural beauty but has been sufficiently widened and cleared for all to be able to enjoy.

Note there are signs indicating dogs are not allowed on the trails. You can, however, take your furry friends with you on the main road, which is sufficiently quiet and relatively car-free. Service dogs are allowed on the trails, so ours came with us on the trail though they are required to be leashed, as there are wild animals in the forest such as deer, racoons and squirrels; and owners must clean up after their dogs as in most public places.

In the Heart of the Redwoods

As we set out, the forest seemed to exhale around us. The ground was carpeted with fallen needles, soft under the tires and feet, and each turn revealed another tableau of quiet majesty. The redwoods rise straight and impossibly tall, their trunks the color of dark cinnamon, streaked with black from old fires. The bark feels fibrous and cool, grooved with age, like the folds of an elephant’s skin. Some of the trees bear the scars of lightning or wind, their interiors charred smooth but fragrant with centuries of life.

The canopy above filters the sunlight into a shifting mosaic of green and gold. When the wind moves, the light trembles – soft dapples on the ferns, a shimmer across the moss. The soundscape is minimal but profound: The distant call of a jay, the soft rush of wind high above, the rhythmic creak of a branch moving gently against another. Somewhere nearby, frogs croaked faintly, and the quiet crunch of footsteps on the trail echoed like a heartbeat in the stillness.

Redwoods have a way of recalibrating your sense of scale. Standing among them, you realize how small you are – not in a diminishing way, but in a way that feels right. It’s as if the trees remind you of your place in the long continuum of time. Some of the largest here are more than 1,400 years old. Their roots, surprisingly shallow, intertwine beneath the forest floor, forming a vast, communal network that allows them to support one another. That image – trees literally holding each other up – feels like its own quiet lesson.

Halfway along the loop, we stopped to rest at a clearing where shafts of light fell across a circle of ferns. The air smelled faintly of cedar and earth, tinged with something sweet and elusive – perhaps the sap or the dampness rising from the soil. We sat in near silence, watching a small deer step cautiously from the undergrowth, its ears twitching. It froze for a moment, then bent its delicate head to graze before slipping soundlessly away. There’s a particular kind of peace that comes in redwood forests – a peace not of stillness, but of slow, deliberate life.

A Gateway to More Adventures

As in so much of Northern California, part of the beauty of Armstrong Redwoods State Natural Reserve is the journey itself. After our walk, we continued toward the coast, taking Route 116, which links the Russian River Valley to Highway 1. The road is one of those quintessential Sonoma County drives – winding, shaded, and intermittently breathtaking. In places, it feels like a miniature Avenue of the Giants: Redwoods crowding close on both sides, their trunks forming a living tunnel of russet and green.

As we descended toward the Russian River, the forest began to thin, replaced by rolling hills and open farmland. The afternoon sun painted everything in a mellow gold. The river shimmered between the trees, its surface flecked with light. The maples and sycamores along the banks blazed in autumn color – yellows, scarlets, and deep orange. We passed small farms and wide pastures dotted with what could only be the happiest cows in California, content beneath the broad, pale sky.

By the time we reached the coast and caught our first glimpse of the Pacific Ocean, the light had shifted again – silver now, with long shadows trailing across the road. Our next stop was The Sea Ranch, where the rugged Sonoma coastline meets the restless ocean.

For now, the memory that stays with me is the quiet awe of Armstrong Redwoods: The way the forest breathes, the filtered light that feels almost holy, the ancient patience of trees that have endured drought, fire, and time itself. There’s a particular magic in stepping into that stillness – a reminder that some of California’s most beautiful destinations aren’t the ones that shout the loudest, but the ones that whisper.

Tips for Travelers with Mobility Impairments Visiting Armstrong Redwoods State Natural Reserve

Parking: There are ADA spots throughout the parking lot.

Trails: As indicated, Pioneer Grove is most suitable, but there are rough patches. A manual-wheelchair user likely needs a companion and/or a free wheel. The path is wide though, significantly less crowded than popular tourist areas like Muir Woods, and free of large roots. I did not explore the other trails, but many might be steep as they lead to waterfalls.

Animals: Dogs are only allowed on the road; service dogs are permitted on trails.

Restrooms: The toilets in the parking lot are not accessible, but the toilets in the main entrance to the park are not only accessible but very clean!

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Written by Jan Bonville