As my week in Olympic National Park comes to a close, I am making my way around the west and south ends of the Olympic Peninsula. These most remote areas of the park have an amazing way of making you feel small, and give a true appreciation for the vastness of this park. Stretching nearly one million acres, Olympic National Park is truly massive, and my week in the area has only scratched the surface. In fact, I am considering returning to the park after my intermission next week to Canada, now that I have an increased understanding of the park and connections with friends in the area. I find myself amazed that I never ventured here before, this park certainly rivals Banff and Jasper National Parks and is in closer proximity to Vancouver. It is also significantly less crowded than either of these parks. Yes, I guess I have become a huge advocate for Olympic. Over the last few days, I've been exploring and beach combing a selection of beaches in the area. I had some morning walks along First and Second Beaches at La Push (the road the Rialto beach was closed at the time), and Fourth, South and Ruby Beaches in the Kalaloch area. If you time these hikes with low tide, which was mid-morning for me, you can see a lot of fun critters along the way. Green sea anemones, ochre stars, limpets and black turban shells, and scuttling hermit crabs could all be found underfoot. If you find yourself close to the barnacles, you could listen to them click and bubble in the air.
I also ventured to Hoh Rainforest, where I picked out a campsite by the glacial river before beginning my hike along the Hoh River Trail. At the foot of the hike, I ran into some hikers retreating after seeing a mother bear and a couple cubs on the trail. After a moment of debating whether I should head back to the car for my bear bell, I ended up hooking up with a couple girls my age and we decided we could continue with caution. We didn't catch a glimpse of the bears, but we had an awesome hike under the canopy with views of the river and eventually a waterfall. Melissa, a resident in pediatrics, lives in Seattle, and I'll be happy if I get a chance to meet up with her again in about a week when I spend some time in the city.
A soothing evening by the campfire listening to the rushing water, and then I packed up again the next day and headed down the coast and to the campgrounds along Quinault Lake. I am getting pretty effective at my camp set up and tear down at this point, so I'm usually on the road by 9am. With some stops on the way, I made it to the lake around 1 pm. Surprise! I am so used to the first come first serve campsite idea by this point that I didn't realize these areas could be reserved. But, it didn't make a difference, I managed to reserve a lovely quiet spot on the water again. I love this park!
There is another beautiful lodge in this area, Quinault Lake Lodge, and here you could pay $7 to have 24 hour access to showers, saunas, the pool, and wifi. After 6 days sans shower, I couldn't turn this down! Jumping in lakes and rivers helped a bit along the way, but was this ever a treat. I don't think I have gone this long without showering in my entire adult life. I was determined to scrape every bit of dirt and grease off me, under the nails, behind the ears, between the toes. I am positive that I was glowing by the time I emerged. I felt human! I debated even putting on makeup (what an idea!) but couldn't bear the idea of putting anything on my clean skin. I ended up not even caring about the pool or sauna, I just grabbed a coffee and took in my pampered life by the lake. Ahhhhhh. Luxury.
Late afternoon, I decided to head out for a hike. I was becoming an advocate for the late day hikes, when the air had cooled down a little and there are fewer people out. Fletcher Canyon sounded quiet and offered a chance to see some of the unique wildlife in the area. I was keen to catch a glimpse of one of the giant elk that Teddy Roosevelt introduced to the area. These animals have thrived in the rainforest and become giants. I saw the head of one mounted on the lodge wall, and seriously, its head and neck alone were at least a meter and a half tall. At the head of the trail, I ran into Robert, a teacher and wilderness expert from Sweden. He was staking out the area to park his car for the night, and we opted to tackle the trail together. I was happy for the company, the hike was fairly overgrown in areas and there was certainly the possibility of accidentally stepping off the trail here. I also got to learn about the variety of plants we passed (or at least their Scandinavian relatives) and what I should be doing about the blisters on my feet. We crawled over and under our fair share of fallen trees, and eventually had to turn around when we lost our trail completely.
The evening was a relaxing one. The campground was peaceful, and a trail along the lake connected it with the lodge where I was meeting a friend for a drink. I have a friend who told me, when I doubted my ability to do this trip alone, that she finds herself less lonely when she travels by herself than with a friend because she meets so many people. I wasn't sure this would apply to me when I am isolating myself in one of the most remote regions in the continental U.S., but certainly by the end of this week I felt amazed by all the connections I had made. With so many more weeks to travel, I can't imagine all the diverse people I will end up having meaningful conversations and relationships with. I hope I can remember all of their stories. Thanks again for reading! It is intermission time now: I am flying off to Calgary for Canada day followed by a river camping trip with some friends from Red Deer to Drumheller. Stay tuned! Amanda
