I left off last time at the end of our hike in the Olympics and the drive we took from there to Ocean Park, WA. Due to the fact that we started our journey in the evening, stopped to eat a belated dinner in a sleepy roadside restaurant, and were fatigued from the day’s 18-mile hike, this particular drive was a challenging one. It was also longer than we had hoped it would be, which has been the case with more or less every stretch of highway since we arrived in the west.

In the end we reached Andy’s beach house in the wee-hours, after a somewhat creepy drive through the dark and coastal fog. It was approaching midnight when we realized it was Friday the 13th, that we were alone on a winding road, and in reality had no idea where we were headed. Oh, how the sleepy imagination can run wild.

Fortunately, no mishaps were in store for us, and after a very well deserved shower each, we felt into a deep sleep until the morning. We got up, began the process of washing our pile of hike-soiled clothing, and headed into the town for some groceries and a look around Ocean Park. Unfortunately, our stay was limited to the morning. With the calendar staring us in the face and all of Oregon still on our map, we decided to carry on with no further ado. Andy arrived as we were packing and suggested we check out the Saturday market in Ilwaco, a port town at the base of the peninsula. Here are some photographs to tell the tale:

From there, we happily passed over into Oregon, debating as we drove whether to go due south along the coast or head to Portland and take the faster but less beautiful Interstate 5. A phone call from family friends Michael and Celina Russell, in Portland, and the prospect of Sunday drivers on the coast made the decision for us and we cut across to Portland that afternoon.

Up next, a weekend of eating, biking, and playing hearts with Michael and Celina!

Since late June we have merrily waved our pass and driven for free through the pay stations of Shenandoah, The Great Smokies, Bandelier, The Great Sand Dunes, The Grand Tetons, and Craters of the Moon National Parks. Now, after touching down back in Washington State, we were dead set on visiting Olympic National Park, a place I have yearned to get to know since my last visit to the area.

The Olympics dominate Washington’s Northwest region and the preserved land area is a large one. Within its boundaries live some of the largest and oldest trees in the world, as well as some immaculate mountains and an array of unique flora and fauna. The park, which is bordered by various Indian Reservations and a smattering of tiny towns on its North and West sides, also includes the longest stretch of preserved coastline on the Pacific. Many opt to hike along these beaches, which remain untouched by development.

Of course, we wanted to see it all. After arriving back to the Baritelle’s lovely home from Canada, we shared a final meal with Lynn, John, and Andy, and went to sleep prepared to leave the following day. In the morning, we decided to stop in and visit Andy’s home before hitting the road. Check out a few photographs of his incredible abode over in Still Life!

That afternoon, we set out driving west and stopped at one of the park’s visitor centers to get a sense of how best to use our time in the Olympics. We decided to drive to the coast for the night, camp there and visit the beach, and then take a short hike on one of the beach trails before heading into the Hoh Rainforest (yes, there is a temperate rainforest in the park) and hiking in to the prominent Mount Olympus.

Here are a few photos from the Mora Camp area as well as the nearby Beach 2. Adam was thrilled by the tide pools, which were teeming with ocean life:

Adam Drinking Tea

Scarlett Drinking Tea

Big Drift Wood

Half Dome

Canon 5D 640 F4_24-105mm

Canon 5D 80 F4_24-105mm

We made it to the rainforest trailhead at around 2pm, stopping on the way in the town where Twilight is filmed and also to do some wildlife viewing:

Twilight bus

3 Shot HDR Canon 5D F4_70-200mm

With ample sunlight left in the day, we started an easy nine-mile hike to a Ranger’s Station and camp area along the Hoh river. It was a good thing this first section of the hike was easy going, because the scenery demanded the majority of our attention:

Waterfall

3 Shot HDR Canon 5D F5.6_24-105mm

At the campgrounds we cooked up our dinner, diligently hung our bear bags, and enjoyed one of our first proper campfires of the trip under a blanket of stars.

Playing with Fire

The next day we would climb to the Blue Glacier of Mount Olympus, 9 miles and 4000 vertical feet to our east.

We left the rainforest behind as we climbed, momentarily forgetting we had been in the company of the 3rd, 4th, and 5th largest species of trees and their accompanying ferns and mosses just a few hours before. The climb steepened with every mile and eventually we came upon an area of serious trail erosion, gingerly crossing into the Glacier Meadows camp using these precarious ladders:

In the Meadows we set up my trusty Half Dome (which, to its credit, has protected us from the elements in four countries and dozens of states!) and, finished with our hike, decided to take another little hike up to the glacier. Pristine beauty ensued as we climbed through fields of alpine wildflowers, glacier streams, snow meadows and finally up a rocky ridge in the center of the mountain’s domain.

Glacier Meadows

3 Shot HDR Canon 5D F5.6_24-105mm

If anyone were ever to doubt that the earth itself is a living being then they are overdue for a visit to the mountains. Glaciers, in particular, are so full of life that they seem to breathe as the ocean does. While Adam took photographs I nestled in amongst the rocks and listened to the mountains. The glacier, in constant movement under the heat of the summer sun, made sounds that reminded me of the tide we had watched come in over the beach the previous morning.

Canon 5D 1250 F6.3_24-105mm

3 Shot HDR Canon 5D F4_24-105mm

In the time that we sat there, watching clouds swirl around the summits of Olympus, we witnessed a cascade of melting snow fall from a bank on the face of the mountain. The sound reverberated through the canyon and under the ice, the glacier seemed to roar all the louder. We reminded ourselves that this is the source of our drinking water (as it feeds the river we had followed to reach the mountain) and gave thanks that it remains pure.

Canon 5D 5000 F5.6_24-105mm

After a time, we came to terms with our lack of mountaineering gear (the summits would have to wait for another trip) and began the decent back to camp. Just across the second snowfield we saw some mountain goats approaching us on the path. On the way up we had seen one, hugging the wall of the canyon, but now a whole family was on their way up the ridge. I sat down so as to not disturb their progress and watched in awe as the largest goat I have ever seen came straight at me. Later we would learn from the ranger than their salt deprived diet drives this curiousity, as they have learned to acquire this scarce but vital resource from hikers hanging socks and other every day items.

Can you find all the goats?

Back in camp and hungry from climbing, we feasted on lentils and chickpeas (more about this later) and then fell into a cozy sleep as the temperatures dropped. The next day we rose and packed quickly, readying ourselves for the 18.5 mile return trip to the Subaru.

By a late “tea time” we would make it back to the parking lot, becoming suddenly aware of our stench and mussed appearance when we joined a crowd of tourists near the visitors center. Changing out of our damp hiking clothes, we found a picnic table where we drank mate and ate all of our remaining food with gusto. Andy Baritelle had suggested we check out his beach house on Washington’s southernmost peninsula, so we decided to try and catch a second wind and make the drive that night.

3 Shot HDR Canon 5D F4_24-105mm

Oh, what a drive it turned out to be.

Up next, a very, very brief visit to Ocean Park, WA.

After a short flight over the water and across the Canadian border we touched down safely in the Qualicum Beach airport on Vancouver Island. This time our welcome was from Paul and Jill Connor, a dynamic English turned Canadian couple who have teamed up with my parents for many flying adventures. This was my first opportunity to meet Paul and Jill and also Adam and I’s first trip to Vancouver Island, B.C. We were instantly charmed by our hosts and thrilled by the spectacular location of their home on the island’s Northeastern coast.

A wonderful weekend ensued and we felt more relaxed than we had in weeks. Between cups and cups of English tea and Jill’s wonderful cooking we feasted like kings, breaking from eating only to recreate and socialize. Walks on the beach, practice on the slack line, some intense mountain biking (Paul and Adam teamed up for that one) and a kayak trip to a nearby pub for a drink helped us stay hungry and also gave us a chance to get to know Qualicum Beach and all of the life that still resides there.

3 Shot HDR Canon 5D F4_24-105mm

Each day the tide recedes away from a wide, rocky beach, revealing an array of shells, crabs, starfish, and ocean flora that I recognized from the long lost tide pools of my childhood in Mendocino. Less heavily traveled than the California or Massachusetts coastlines, this beach is still home to a bustling ecosystem and Adam and I spent hours marveling at the creatures that each day appear for a few hours while the ocean is away at low tide.

3 Shot HDR Canon 5D F4_24-105mm

3 Shot HDR Canon 5D F4_24-105mm

3 Shot HDR Canon 5D F4_24-105mm

3 Shot HDR Canon 5D F4_24-105mm

We even saw one of the strangely phallic “gooey ducks”, which aggressively squirted water at me when I came across its resting place. Limited to around fifteen days of harvest opportunity a year, those that hold permits to “fish” for these creatures are now part of a multi-million dollar industry. Though considered a delicacy (and valued at around $30/pound) having seen one of these creatures in its natural state I am uncertain I would be drawn to consume it. As Jill put it (saving me from having to say it myself), “they look like willies”.

Geoduck

I write this because it was at this time, marked by much deliberating, that Adam and I really began to see our trip, once stretching unimaginably long before us, coming to a rapid close. Just as we had ended up rushing to arrive in Washington on time, we were now in a hurry to continue our journey south to California. We swore to return to Vancouver Island (and also to British Columbia mainland, where other wonderful friends reside) on our next adventure.

Up next – our return to Washington and a last hurrah in the Olympics!

We left off some time ago promising to write about doing a lot of driving in Washington and Oregon. The route that we ended up choosing took us out of Idaho and onto Oregon’s Eastern highway, where we headed North once more. We stopped for a break in Baker City and, with sixth sense-esk precision, found a tiny farmer’s market within moments of leaving the highway. We bought some fruit and veggies from a handful of Eastern Oregon growers, shared mate in the shade, and then got back to trucking. Our destination that night was Yakima, in Southeastern Washington.

Yakima totes itself boldly as “The Palm Springs of Washington”, and is located in the heart of Washington’s thriving wine country. Driving in we passed thousands of apple trees and grapevines, watching the landscape progress from desert dominated by military activity to rolling agricultural land over the course of about 100 miles.

Having resigned ourselves to driving late into the night, we opted for the convenience (and luxury, let’s not forget) of staying in a hotel in the middle of the city. In contrast, we first ate a late dinner at a taco stand in a laundry mat parking lot. We had heard that this was the place to get Mexican food in Yakima and now can attest that this is true. Amongst heavily tattooed Mexican agricultural workers (who politely advised us to check out hotels in a different part of town) and families doing their washing, we ate some of the most fantastic tacos we have had on this trip. Pleased to chat with us in Spanish, the solo cook, sweating as he churned out plates of tacos, even offered to cook me up a special vegetarian meal, though seemed disappointed I wasn’t in the mood for any tongue or sausage meat.

After an incredible restful night of sleep in the grandeur of our hotel room we took a quick swim, stretched in the grass, and hit the road that would carry us (with a short ferry ride in the middle) all the way to Sequim, WA, on the state’s northern coast. Despite spotty weather and several plan changes, we were able to arrival at the Baritelle household within five minutes of my parents, who had flown in from Oakland in my dad’s Cardinal. At this time our adventure vacation took a turn for the slightly more comfortable and civilized.

Coming up next we drink cups of tea, catch up with family friends and cross the Canadian border for some walks on the beach of Vancouver Island!