Washington (State) in the Winter

Posted Sat, January 24, 2009 - 11:20 PM
orienteering, navigation, travel, photography

Last weekend I flew out to Seattle to visit Annie for a couple days. We had a tight itinerary due to both our work schedules - we spent 2 days out on the Olympic Peninsula and one in town, then I spent most of the day Tuesday getting home.

Highlights include running a COC winter meet at Shoreline Park on Saturday, staying at a llama farm on Sunday, getting smacked in the ass by the Pacific Ocean, and exploring downtown Seattle on Monday. More details below the fold.

Annie picked me up from the airport around 11 PM on Friday and we visited a local establishment for a short time before crashing. (With the time zone shift, my body thought it was around 3 AM.) We woke up the next morning and took the car out for an oil change, then drove up to Shoreline for a COC winter meet. It was a fun, fast, course, about 4.5 km with 23 controls. A few of the controls were actually on the Shoreline CC campus, hidden in between the buildings which were all accessible by raised walkways that surrounded and connected the buildings. I ran a good course, about 8 min/km with only one major error which turned out to be about 3 minutes (and I've properly dissected it). I came in 3rd (Glenn R was faster, but had an MSP) behind Nikolay N and Eric B. Unfortunately, I can't find the map anywhere! Maybe there's a TSA employee at Sea-Tac who likes to orienteer?

Counting the Llamas

After that, we headed back downtown to catch the ferry to Bainbridge Island. We managed to pull up to an empty lane right as the ferry was slowly leaving, so it was about an hour wait. Other cars eventually filled in, and Annie had quite a shock when a Seattle PD K-9 unit unexpectedly appeared just outside the car. He was walking his cute little puppy around as it sniffed various tires (no doubt to ascertain the presence of other canines...) Although I would ask: what difference does it really make if someone brings a joint onto the ferry?

After a half hour ferry ride, we got off on the island and began the long trek up to 101 and Port Angeles. We switched up driving and made Crescent Lake in mid-afternoon. This is really the start of the scenic section of the Olympic peninsula, and I remembered a lot of it from my trip in 2002. There's a bit of ugliness in the logged areas just after the (very beautiful) lake, but it gets better as you turn south towards Forks. We stopped in Forks just after dark and had dinner at Pacific Pizza (and it was very good!) Forks has the unfortunate distinction of being a featured locality in one of the more popular movies to be released in late 2008, so we could see how the town was coming to terms with the publicity. As we drove through the north side of town, we noticed a motel sign that simply said:

"Edward Cullen didn't sleep here!"

I guess they wanted actual customers, instead of a stream of tourists - who knew?

After dinner we continued another 15 or so miles down the road until we got to the Ho Humm Ranch (and llama farm.) It's a very, very basic bed and breakfast place - the beds are on the second and third floor of an old house, and the breakfast is a massive spread of bacon, eggs, biscuits, toast, jam, annd hashbrowns at 8 AM every morning. We were the only guests - but there were nine of the Huelsdonk family at the table having lively discussion about all sorts of topics.

To the Coast

After breakfast we headed down to the coast. The first pullout was Ruby Beach. We pulled into the small parking lot (with a National Forest display) and hiked down a short trail to the beach. Once the trail descends to sea level, it runs west along a moderately sized stream and then reaches the first belt of sand, which is completely covered with a tangle of driftwood. You need to clamber over it to reach the fine black sand beach beyond. Just offshore are several sea stacks, including one closer in that's accessible at most times. I checked the tide chart earlier and knew that we had a particularly high tide coming in and peaking around noon, but that one sea stack was still accessible. I walked out around the seaward side, keeping an eye on the waves as they came pretty close. Annie walked out on a rock outcrop nearby. After a few minutes, I turned around to take some photos of the trees through a keyhole in the sea stack. I had fired off a few frames when I heard Annie mention something like "oh jeez" and heard a rumbling. I turned around to see a much bigger wave coming right in at me, and I was on the wrong side of the rocks. I could only attempt to hug the rock and hold my camera has high as possible. The wave wasn't big enough to be dangerous, but it did soak me up to my waist. Annie scrambled off her rock and ran up the beach, which I later ribbed her for - but we later agreed that it was just the Pacific gently reminding us who was boss around there.

We hiked back up to the car and continued south to Beach 4. Back at the ranch, Bob H had told us that the trails from Beach 4 can lead you to some good tide pools. Given the tide situation, we wouldn't be able to see them then, but wanted to go there anyway. We parked in another lot and walked out to the lookout about 40 feet up from the short. The beach was a lot narrower, with the waves coming almost up all the way up to the slope, and Annie was a little intimidated to go down. So she stayed while I walked down the trail. Along the way I heard the rushing of water (louder than the already ambient) and climbed off trail through sloppy ground to find this little beauty:

On reaching the bottom, I found a small wooden bridge crossing the aforementioned stream and leading out onto the beach rocks. The tide was indeed high and didn't leave much room on the beach to the north, so I walked south and took a few perspective photos. I wandered back after a while and we continued with our major plan, which was to visit Cape Flattery, the northwesternmost point in the continental US.

The Edge of the Continent

The route back led us through Forks and up to Hwy 113 toward Clallam Bay, then west along the south edge of the Strait of Juan de Fuca towards the Makah reservation at the tip of the peninsula. After turning north on 113, we had to go up over a bit of a ridge, and this area had a pretty heavy snowpack left from the unseasonably cool weather in the preceding weeks. We stopped briefly at Beaver Falls and continued north to the town on the coast. The hills were tall, but not too tall, and the whole area reminded me a lot of the outcropped terrain along the Pigeon River (Arrowhead Trail and Grand Portage) in northern Minnesota. The snow gradually decreased as we descended toward Clallam Bay and Sekim and turned west along the coast. Annie asked me to drive this section, since she was getting tired and a little sensitive to the roller-coaster nature of the roads. She napped for about five minutes with a coat over her face as I drove west as fast as the narrow, twisty road would allow (loving it) and felt a lot better when she woke up. It wasn't long until we entered the Makah reservation.

Annie told me what she knew about the Makah; apparently, before Leonard Peltier arrived on the Pine Ridge res, he had spent some time helping them fight for their whaling rights in the waters at the mouth of the Juan de Fuca Strait.

I also recently learned, to my sadness, that the Makah's native language (a member of the Wakashan language family) lost its last first-language speaker in 2002. Although not forgotten, and still taught in schools, in technical terms that makes Kweedishchaaht an extinct language. They have a nice museum, a nice casino, and the reservation looks pretty decent compared to some I've seen, but I really have to wonder - at what cost? How much do their children know about their own culture and history, do they care? Or do they just want to move to Seattle and assimilate into American Culture, whatever that is? That's the down side of America's "melting pot".

We continued west along the Cape Flattery road, which rose and fell until we reached a small parking lot. The Cape trail was about 1/2 mile, moderately rugged and wet all the way. There were many areas with stumps between 1-2 feet around that were sunk into the trail to provide better footing and a reprieve from the mud. Unfortuantely, they were very slippery from the rain, moss, and algae, and both of us took at least one digger on the way down. I stayed behind taking photos, and Annie walked ahead to the coast. Unlike the area of Ruby Beach, the land stays high here and drops directly into the ocean, with sheer (but lushly vegetated) cliffs the norm. There's a lookout just before the end of the trail, and just past it the trail dead ends at a wooden platform perched on a narrow gooseneck of land about 50 feet above the ocean. The view is spectacular - Tatoosh Island barely visible ahead due to the fog, a uniform and gently heaving blue-green ocean in front, and rugged cliff, headlands, and sea stacks on each side:

We stayed for about 15 minutes enjoying the view, and then starting walking back. There were a few other hikers on the trail (both ways), but one deserves mention. Going back, we first encountered his dog who was off leash but having a great time. Then we encountered the hiker. He was about 6 foot 6, with a rugged face and a bit of a beard. Rather than more traditional gear as we had, he was wearing a light gray fur robe that came down to his ankles and covered him completely, except for the boots, which appeared to be made of felt. He had the look of a mountain man and appeared to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

Wrapping Up

That was the end of the specific itinerary for that day, so we started the long drive back and crossed back from Bainbridge Island well after dark. Before turning in, we stopped in at Pints and Pies for a couple drinks.

The next morning, Annie had school, so I left the house a little later, ran about an hour around the UW campus, and met her around noon. We walked downtown to look at Pike Place (which Annie hadn't been to, and I wasn't impressed by in 2002), and then wandered around some more and had dinner before going back home. After a quick nap and shower, we called up Michael and headed out to meet him at some basement bar along University (I forget the time). He's a pretty cool guy. Some background for those who don't know - after Annie left MN she rambled across the country, eventually arriving in Portland, OR and falling in with a group staying at a hostel there. One of the group was Michael Trew and they immediately struck up a friendship. He lived in Seattle and Annie went up there with him, and liked what she found there.

The next day, I had an early afternoon flight, so it really wasn't a day to do anything. I went downtown and spent about an hour at the Seattle Art Musuem before taking the bus back to SCC so Annie could drive me to the airport. They had a very nice exhibition called "The Women of Edward Hopper", and fairly large collection of Northwest native artifacts. The most well-known permanent work I saw was probably one of Andy Warhol's several "Double Elvis" canvases.

This trip wasn't about to leave me without one more memorable moment. We were delayed leaving Sea-Tac and didn't get into the air until near 5 PM. As we ascended southbound and gradually started to turn east, we punched out of the low layer of clouds filling in the Puget Sound basin. Suddenly, out my window I had a full view of the North Cascades, with Mount Rainier towering to the southeast, all lit up by a low pinkish-purple sun and covered in shadows. The world below was completely cut off by the clouds - it was a sudden transition from the everyday world to a completely different and spectacular world.

Check out Flickr for more photos, all location tagged.