Dear Natalie,
I woke up early this morning, made a cup of coffee and slipped out to the beach. The tide was going out, and some of the rocks that had been caught in last night’s roiling surf were now exposed in the middle of the sandy expanse and glistening in the morning light. I admired the barnacles and the green anemones that had sewn themselves inside the little hollows and crevices.
Although a veneer of fog wrapped the beach, the blue sky hovered just above it, poised to take over for the day. I sucked in the intoxicating scent of sea and sun and damp earth and pine forest. It was an exhilarating, exquisite start to the day.
 |
| Our cabin, in the morning light |
We made a quick breakfast in the cabin, then mapped out our day. We planned to drive to Port Angeles on the north side of the Olympic Peninsula, then drive 17 miles up into the Olympic Mountains to Hurricane Ridge, a popular spot with dramatic views of Mount Olympus to the south and the Strait of Juan de Luca to the north, with Vancouver Island just beyond. We were disheartened to realize that it would take more than two hours just to get to Port Angeles from our cabin at Kalaloch Beach.
Resigned to spending more time in the car, we fired up the Pilot and turned north out of the Kalaloch Lodge parking lot. The weather here seems to change every minute, with every mile that we travel. As we left cabin, the sun was burning through the morning mist. As we moved up the coast, thick clouds hung low over the trees. When we turned inland, the clouds cleared and we enjoyed a beautiful blue sky for the rest of the day.
These thick spruce and cedar forests are so beautiful. The trees’ spines are ramrod straight, and their shaggy peaks disappear in the mist. The woods are moody and mysterious, but also somehow steadfast and serene, and the idea of being swallowed up by them is strangely comforting.
We passed through Forks, the small logging town on the west side of the Olympic Peninsula where, as you know, “Twilight” — the absurdly popular supernatural romance series — is set. Of course, the Forks visitor center is backed with vampire t-shirts and werewolf souvenirs.
The long drive turned even longer as we encountered several stretches of road construction that squeezed the road down to one lane for miles. We had to sit and wait in a long line of cars while the traffic filed through from the other direction.
After a quick lunch in Port Angeles, we turned up the mountain, only to run into more construction. It took us an hour to travel 17 miles to the visitors center at the end of the road. Our patience paid off, as we were treated to sweeping views of the Olympic Mountains. But we had spent so much time in the car just to get there — and we still had to leave time for the return trip — that we didn’t have much time to explore. We hiked a quick scenic loop of only a mile or two before we piled back in the car and headed back down the mountain.
On the way back to the cabin, we pulled off the main highway and drove 12 miles inland to the Sol Doc Hot Springs, which is also part of the national park. There's a resort with cabins and an inn, as well as spring-fed pools that are open to the public. We changed into our swimsuits and took a cursory dip. But it wasn’t very relaxing, since it smelled like rotten eggs and, frankly, was kind of gross. It’s a warm pool with no chlorine, no filters and a bunch of other people. We had to see it; we don’t need to go back.
We were relieved to finally get back to the cabin — at almost 9 p.m.. The restaurant at the lodge was closing, so we gathered up driftwood and had a weenie roast on the beach. The perfect ending to a long day of exploring Olympic National Park!
We love you and miss you, Natalie! We hope you are working hard and having tons of fun.
Love,
Mom
xoxoxoxoxoxo
No comments:
Post a Comment