Hot Night on the Spit

It was really hot in Sequim tonight, so I decided to go down to Dungeness Spit and have a picnic dinner.

Path to Dungeness Spit as sun sets.

I tried to find a friend to go with me, but one was going up to the lake and another was going to the casino to dance and the other one never replied.

Oh, well, I'm pretty good company for myself, so off I went. It was definitely in my plan to have a walk before or after dinner and this way I certainly got to do that... both ways.

There wasn't much of a breeze, and because it was already after 6 p.m., the path to the spit was quiet.

My picnic dinner on the spit.

I could hear birds fluttering about getting into a nest someplace, or making those last calls to others to come and roost. The sea air filtered up through the tall evergreens mixing with the dusty forest smell.

Nice. Peaceful.

I walked alone and just as I got down near the spit I could see a few folks making their way up the path because there is a deadline that everyone has to be off the beach one half hour before sunset. 

And out of the ether come yellow jackets. How do they know there is food to be eaten? I kept pushing one away and finally had to cover up what I was trying to eat, only opening it when I was ready to take a bite. And one of them got into the plastic bag that was holding grapes. But when I stopped feeling resistance to their presence, they took off. That was weird. 

When the tide is in, the spit looks like it is littered with
dinosaur bones. If you look closely you can see someone
up on one of the huge logs near the tideline.

Sunset watching is done up on the bluff and then you have to be out of the park at 'dusk,' which is a sort of fluid time because some days (if cloudy) it gets darker quicker than if it is clear, like it was tonight.

The Olympic range gets a lovely purple color as the light fades, but the
smoky haze affects the colors right now.

These are the bluffs that are eroding
at an alarming rate.

I did manage to walk for 43 minutes, getting credit for 4256 steps, which is about 2 miles, I think.

There is such a 'beachy' smell there... washed up bird feathers, small crabs, shells of other things, seaweed, damp sand from the recent high tide, and weathered salt-infused wood.

I later discovered this was a couple who were
celebrating a wedding anniversary.

Soon it was time to head back up and a couple that I had taken a photo of walking on the beach asked me to take their photo with their camera because it is their wedding anniversary. Congratulations, you two!!

The sun is setting earlier now; it was 8:05 p.m. tonight.

Then it was off to the bluff to watch the sunset. I am not sure if the time of sunset is when it starts or when it finishes. I wasn't watching my time as I took the photos. All I know is that it is now getting darker a little bit sooner every day.

No disappointment in the sunset tonight... all the smoke from the fires in the Olympics created a lovely reddish glow and I met a nice woman from Tacoma so we chatted as the sun set, with me taking photos as we shared observations. 

Just after the sun set, the Puget Sound breeze began and the
air chilled down immediately. And I live here!!

Thanks, Christina, for making the evening more colorful! And for using my favorite saying, "Does it get any better than this?"

Everyone is gone; hope the sun comes back tomorrow...

By the time I got home the temperature inside was down to a livable 75. I checked on the cats and they were still alive - not roasted yet.

Hurricane Ridge Trip

Standing on the porch at the lodge at Hurricane Ridge in the
Olympic National Park, Port Angeles, WA.

I think I smell snow in that leaden sky.

   The last trip to Hurricane Ridge was on Beloved's Harley under sunny skies and of course the road up there was dry and clear.

Mt.Olympus is off to the right, past the snow-made polar bear.

   Today it was snow-covered and, in at least two places, had tree debris from trees dislodged with by snow or wind.
 
   And this time it required chains on tires, so I wasn't about to put myself through that experience again. (I think the last time was from my house in East Fork heading toward Ketchum in Idaho.)

Looking eastward, sort of toward Seattle, WA.

 
   So I rode up with a shuttle service and a trip that should have taken about an hour was almost twice that with a faulty chain install on a rear tire that went "whap-whap-whap" for 18 miles up and 18 miles back.

    It was impressive at the top, though.
   Over a week of steady snow and wind with periodic mild warmings had created some very long icicles and snow statues from trees that were totally covered.

   I stepped off a path for cross-country skiers and sunk down to my waist... and the snow was really blue even a short distance down.

I love this color blue under these circumstances. I think it
might be less appealing if it was much deeper and I was in it.

   The most fun was enjoying the smell of snow, the crunch under my feet, and my body was remembering the guarded expectation of putting on skis, heading off for a powdery run, the wonderful exhilaration of feeling the weight shift back and forth while whooshing downhill.

The lodge to the left has an overlook spot below,
but it is covered in snow up to about six feet.

   When my kids try to encourage me to take up skiing again I explain that it's not a sport for seniors who have stopped it for a decade, and besides, it's significantly more expensive to rent all that gear now that it was 10 years ago... and just for a one-weekend experience?

   I have skied in N.H., Vermont (Suicide Six, especially), Massachusetts, Idaho, Calif., Canada and Austria. I have skied with some of the most interesting folks when I worked at Sun Valley and that includes volunteering with the Ski Patrol.

   Getting older should mean getting wiser, too.

   And so when I had my last downhill ski trip with the Scottsdale Sail and Ski Club, I decided it was time to enjoy it to the fullest and then sell my equipment.

   The two close calls I had with other skiers who were skiing out of control only confirmed it was time I did just that.

"Sandy Banks" in a snow bank...

Halfway down the ridge, after the tunnels, looking down on
Sequim, WA and Puget Sound.

   I can still cross-country ski or snowshoe, and perhaps I will do more of that this winter.

Unknown couple heading off on the Cross Country trail.

There is still a lot I can do to enjoy the times I go out into wintry weather, and I hope, dear readers, you have enjoyed this trip into a wintry wonder just a short distance from Sequim.

My Solution

Royal Shell Oil's rig, parked in Port Angeles, WA harbor.

There is a huge, 300-ft. tall, bright yellow oil rig parked almost at my front door. It's not really 'my front door,' but it is the door to the Olympic National Forest. And you can't miss this thing as you drive into town.

So, I started thinking of it in a more positive light.

And I wrote a letter to the Peninsula Daily News about it.

"I recently learned that the huge oil drilling rig that is parked in full view of anyone driving near Port Angeles Harbor is here to stay for a while (“Giant Oil Rig Probably Will Stick Around,” PDN, May 5).

This depressed economic climate clamors for some creative solutions, and that ugly rig just demands a colorful makeover.

How about we see if Shell will moderate its rigid stance of using it just for oil drilling and allow us to have it as a water slide for the summer?

And when the next rig arrives, perhaps we could set them up close enough to run zip-lines between the two of them so folks could have some more fun?

Even having tours of the oil rig would offer a tourist attraction.

When is the last time you were on one? Or even curious about what they are like?

Water taxis would make money taking folks out to the slide and zip-line or tours, concession people could set up hotdog stands and liquid refreshments nearby, and tourists would flock here from British Columbia and points eastward for a never-to-be-experienced-again, once-in-a-lifetime, oil-rig summer fun trip.

Hotels would have no-vacancy signs out because lots of other fun things would come from the energy of having a purpose in our harbor at long last.

Anyone with other ideas is welcome to submit them [to letters@peninsuladailynews.com. Or register a comment in the Reader Comments, below.]

I'm not wedded to these but wanted to get people thinking instead of complaining.

Sandy Banks,
Sequim"

And, you know, there were some interesting replies and a few 'got' what I was suggesting... that you can take this huge yellow thing and make lemonade out of it.

I kinda wish Shell Oil would take my ideas to heart... and at least let us have some tours... my old Public Relations brain started working and I began thinking about all the positive ways they could turn around public opinion, including by starting with little kids getting on board with drilling.

Not that I really would want that, but my experience has shown me that when you want to shift public opinion for good, you start young.

Well, that's all the news that fits tonight.

Adventures with Rick and Rose to the Elwha

I received a phone call this morning inviting me to go and visit the Elwha River sites where two 100-year old dams have been removed in the biggest dam-removal project ever completed. Rose, my pal and her husband, Rick, wanted to go and see how much the landscape had changed. They've been here for almost 20 years.

Port Angeles foliage; only around for a few days.

I arrived in the region just as the dam was being removed, so I never saw it in operation.

You can read more about the history of the Elwha here and see a documentary about the un-damming of this wild river. It's been a long process of fixing a river and the fish that inhabit it, along with all the tribal impacts to native peoples.

Rose leads the way toward the Elwha River.

The sun was shining in between raindrops and what I've learned about the NW is that you do NOT do something just because it is raining. For one thing, it might stop. For another, if it doesn't, you never get to do anything... so we go.

The old growth forest reaches upwards and all the leaves that were providing shade this summer are now acting like spongy carpets on the trails.

I was traveling with two folks who, like me, know the importance of leaving marks or signs so we could find our way back from river's edge because at this time of the year the leaves and downed branches make trails harder to see.

We stopped at the Lower Elwha dam, now gone, then walked over to the river's edge, then drove to where Glines Canyon dam used to be (pictures at the end of this) and then drove all the way up to the beginnings of the Anderson trail to the Olympic Hot Springs... we'll go there another time.

Information about the dams is posted at both sites.

Following the removals and the clean-up, fish began returning this fall, reinforcing the belief that if you remove the dams, they will come...

We didn't see any fish swimming upriver but there were plenty of folks with the same idea we had; to get out and enjoy the wonderful weather.

Rick and Rose looking over the former lake;
the remains of the Glines dam are in the back.

Looking over the free-running Elwha from the remains of
the dam. The silt will nourish further downstream.

New cut of the wild Elwha now the lake is gone.

New snow on the Olympic peaks...

The recent rains brought snow down to the 5000-ft. levels. There may be enough to act as a refrigerator and to keep it for awhile. It's below freezing down in the valley as I am writing this.

The Olympics feed the Elwha...

And now the Elwha may feed us, on many levels.

Moon over the Mountains

Long ago, when television was in its infancy in the 50's, there was a woman who used to close out her program "The Kate Smith Hour" on NBC with this song, "When the moon comes over the mountain..."

Some of you who were in the U.S. in those days and watched that hour of entertainment (before Ed Sullivan, folks), may also remember a backdrop of a moon rising over mountains that looked quite like these...

From Hurricane Ridge near Port Angeles, WA

The moon looks very close, but it's still miles away.

The drive up to Hurricane Ridge is long (about half an hour) and on windy roads that were reminiscent to me of the roads in Colombia, including the lack of guard rails and sharp drop offs along the 17-mile route. 

After my trip up there and telling my boss about seeing the moon from that elevation, he advised me to not go up there again after dark because of the panhandlers who are stalking individuals for funds.

How frustrating to have such a place of beauty become so undesirable. It is surprising to me, as a solo traveler in a country (Colombia) which was still overcoming a reputation for being dangerous while I was there, and where I was never accosted or threatened, to return home to a place that I perceived as 'safe,' only to discover it's darker side.

This young deer was totally unafraid of me, standing about
six feet away. I wasn't afraid of her, either.

I have an objective to travel back to France next summer, and if the world keeps becoming so scary, I may have to hire a bodyguard to go with me.

The last rays of the sun convey the sense of heat that we're
experiencing here in the NW... hot, hot, hot.

A Sol Duc Sunday

Ahhhhh, you ask, "Just what is a Sol Duc Sunday?"

Lake Crescent, Clallam County, Washington
on the Olympic Peninsula, about an hour's drive from
Port Angeles. It's three hours from Seattle.

No, it isn't something to eat. It's a drive on the Olympic Peninsula, up past Lake Crescent to the Sol Duc Hot Springs, (both are attractions in  the Olympic National Forest), for a lovely hot soak after a wonderful bike ride.

We got a late start, my friends and I, but the weather was so lovely, we felt no need to rush. The sun was out, a light breeze was tousling our hair, and then we put on our bike helmets.

I should say that we put on our helmets once we arrived at that portion of the Olympic Discovery Trail near Camp David, Jr., on the north side of the lake. There are plenty of signs off Highway 101, so it is easy to find the road.

This lake is incredibly clear and today it was also very calm.

Once we off loaded the bikes, we were reminded this is a good time of year to carry mosquito repellent as they started swarming us until we were moving along.

You take the trail westward, with a slight uphill trend, (easy pedaling, really) for about 30 minutes, until you reach the port-a-potty and the western entrance off Highway 101. Then you turn around and go back the way you came, gliding all the way!! I don't think I pedaled my bike more than a couple of times on the way back.

We didn't see any folks until we were headed back and then we saw two hikers/walkers on the trail. This whole area has lots and lots of trails for both bikers and hikers. Most of the bike shops have a trail map that is accurate and helpful.

A closer look at the submerged log, above and below.

We saw a doe, who looked more than a little puzzled at three helmeted humans bearing down on her at a pretty good clip. She took off, crashing and making a terrible racket in the forest, probably thinking she was going deaf not hearing us until we were so close.

At the western-most end of Lake Crescent, there are some
campsites, picnic grounds, boat launching pier and a small
area for swimming, at your own risk... it's pretty cold.

All in all, the biking portion of the trip, from start to finish, was about an hour. We did stop for about 20 minutes to enjoy a mossy clearing where we laid down on Nature's mattress to stare up at the canopy of forest. Curious to us was the protection we had from the mosquitoes while we were on the moss. Even though it was slightly damp, they did not seem to care to approach us there.

The light filtered through
the moss-covered trees.

By this time it was after 1:30 p.m., we were pretty hungry, so we stopped at the western end of the lake and enjoyed our packed lunches. There is a little store right there, so people can buy sandwiches and drinks and snacks if they aren't inclined to bring their own.

Taking a break on Nature's mossy mattress, making that
"earth connection" that is so rejuvenating.

The Olympic Discovery Trail near Lake Crescent.

With lunch done, we started the short drive to the road that takes you to the Sol Duc Hot Springs and campground. But that 14 miles of roadway after the Ranger entry station (It will cost you $15 per car if you don't have a national park pass.) is slow and winding. It will take you about half an hour from the ranger station to the hot springs.

There is also a lovely waterfall to hike up to, but we are going to do that another day.

The water really is this color!! And this clean!

About half-way along the road there is a spot to watch the salmon returning and leaping up the Sol Duc River, but since this was June, there were no fish to be seen. Their return is in the autumn.

Obviously the water is not really green, but it is so clear
that it reflects back the colors of all the trees near it.

Still it was incredibly lovely and peaceful, so we wandered about that location for a bit. It seems that a lot of people go to the Hot Springs for the full day or weekend. We only were there a few hours, but the sulfur heat was really helpful to my back after the workout it got on Saturday and my legs felt refreshed from the bike ride.

The largest pool is about 70 degrees. The closer circle pool
runs very hot, somewhere between 106-109 degrees.

This pool, closest to the administration and showers, is a
comforting 99-100 degrees on average. All sulfur.

We are not sure why the administration of the facility is being so sparing of help on a busy weekend, but it didn't help having to stand in a long line to pay to go in.

Oh, and yes, there is a fee for that as well. $10 per person. Pretty hefty if you have a large family, in my opinion.

You can go to the link to read all the details about this unique experience, and get information if you want to do an overnight visit.

I was quite stunned at the variety of cultures present on this day. I heard Ukrainian being spoken, German, Italian, Mandarin (Chinese), and one other dialect I couldn't identify.

It is very child-friendly, but not pet-friendly. Don't even think about bringing Fido along.

Other tip: wear water 'slippers' because the aggregate surface is really painful to walk on and the other walking surfaces are quite slippery.

There are towels for rent, food at the little restaurant, lots of beverages and sunscreen if you forget to bring it.

All in all, it was a truly delightful day and I'm so glad I've had a chance to see a little more of the paradise I am calling 'home.'

The Western-most Shores of WA

If you read one of my earlier posts about the Makah tribe, then you already know there were inhabitants on the Olympic Peninsula 4,000 years ago. But did you know there were mastodons up to 12,000 years ago? I didn't. I went looking for information for my last trip to the westernmost shores of Washington and found this link to the Olympic Peninsula from the National Park Service pages.

A young girl inspects something in the sand at the First
Beach, near an enormous dead tree, beached by the sun.

The enormous dead trees that litter the Rialto Beach (and other western coastal beaches) are reminiscent of those huge creatures, with roots like tusks jutting out and up to the sky, perfect for little boys and girls to climb on and swing from. I looked and looked for more of an explanation in the National Park Service pages about these massive dead trees but was stumped - pardon the pun.

The Mother of Invention...

Because the natural weather trends for the Olympic Peninsula includes lots (and I'm not kidding - up to 204 days of rain in Forks!) of rain, it was nothing short of amazing to wake up and know we were going to have a full day of clear skies and plenty of sunshine. But guess who forgot to pack any sunscreen? Oooooops. However, it seems that the improvised nose shade did provide protection.

We visited three beaches in all. Rialto, First Beach and Second Beach. Yes, dear readers, there is a Third Beach and probably other numbered beaches, but after my story of getting to Second Beach you will see why Third was passed by.

RIALTO BEACH

I did not take the one in the center.
If you can point to the one I did take,
I will give you a Special Award.

Someone's creative work.

This is the most completely ADA (American Disabilities Act) access point for being able to view the beach and picnic with family. However, no wheelchair, even with four-wheel drive, is going to get on the beach by itself as it is made up of millions of yet-to-be-converted-into-sand stones. Thousands of them. Lots of different sizes, shapes, colors and textures. The urge to collect is overwhelming. I settled on one, but I walked a mile in both directions before deciding (LOL!).

Walking on this less-than-stable platform is wonderful exercise for the calf muscles and I can attest that they remarked on it for a couple of days afterward. I did see families with babes in strollers, but they were likely carried down to the water's edge where the beach sand is being refined and thus is softer on the feet than farther away from the daily grind. (You can see lots of photos here on PhotoBucket.)

Dead trees stand in silent testimony to the potential forces
of the Pacific when it is not as lovely as on this day.

The waves seem to be larger here, and I am only guessing, but think there might be an issue with undertow, especially as the tide is retreating. I would not even think of swimming here, and I didn't actually see anyone doing it. I believe we just missed a surfboard competition, so perhaps strong swimmers don't feel the same concern I do now I'm older and swimming in oceans less.

This beach goer is only standing in the retreating water, not coming out.

FIRST BEACH

Plenty of soft sand here; great for kids to safely run wide open!

I think there are two access points, but we went to the obvious public parking lot in La Push (the name of the Quilute village) and walked down a short, rocky/stony, sandy incline to the softest and loveliest beach sand I've put a toe into in quite awhile.

From the public parking lot in La Push, this is the view
looking back toward Rialto Beach, and the land mass on
the left are sacred islands for the Quilute tribe.

The wonderful weather did not draw huge crowds and with minimal breeze (thus no sand blowing over the food) it was a delightful hour spent relaxing and pushing the sand around with our feet, watching others run and jump in the very moderate surf which was probably pretty cool as well.

La Push Marina, tucked in behind First Beach.

SECOND BEACH

Headed down the path to Second
Beach. Looks at first like you are
taking a stroll through someone's
lovely private garden.

As you are headed down Highway 110 (west) toward La Push, you will pass two miniscule parking lots and cars overflowing them for Third Beach on the left and then Second Beach, also on the left side. As we were leaving La Push, it was about 4 miles down the road and the entrance to the parking lot is a little daunting because there is no signage and it's only after you've entered you realize it is the wrong way in. Nevertheless, we found a space and locked up.

I had worn sneakers earlier in the day and in my wisdom brought sandals which were perfect for First Beach. But I didn't think it would be much of a walk down the path to Second Beach (no indicators, no directions for that either!) so I didn't change my footwear. And seeing other people wearing hiking boots did not give me a clue because I wasn't really registering on that important information.

You know where this is going.... downhill. And later, uphill, with sandals that did not have any heel-holder-inners. Hard to go ahead easily with a 40 percent incline. Oh, and by the way, if you have been 'walking' on the treadmill, a 5% incline does not cut it for training, folks. Yes, I whined all the way to the summit, muttered all the way down to the beach, groused on the way back up and puffed my way back to the car.... but I was smiling all the time, if that counts for anything. I'm not that great an estimator of distances, but my muscles are telling me it was about a mile and half in and even though it was more uphill on the way back, it was the same distance.

The Offering Tree had shells, stones, strings, and a variety
of other small treasures left by previous beach-goers.

About half-way down, or half-way up depending on which way you are going, there is a large, mossy-covered, 'offering tree' where little treasures may be left as offerings to the spirits. I chose a small mussel shell while I was on the beach, but this is what I saw as I was headed down the path.

This is a trip that I think my granddaughter would just love to do because not only is there a lot to see on the path, but the beach itself has tide pools, soft sand, places to build forts, lots of huge dead, splinter-free trees to climb on as well as dancing in the surf. I intend to be in much better shape for my next trip here.

Seagulls shop for supper or snacks.

 The seagulls seem to like this beach best of the three we were at as they left indications of their crabmeat dinners near the tide pools. An hour at this beac was not enough time, but the tide was coming in and since it was SuperMoon weekend with higher-than-usual tides, we decided it was in our best interest to not wait to see how high that might be.

So, reminder: check the tide tables for beach visits because not all paths near all beaches are accessible once the tide is in/up.

Tide pools have lots of things living in them and this is just one photo of many taken in the short time I was there. (You can see more photos by clicking on this link.)

Even I was surprised when I got home and downloaded this tide pool shot!!

A later bit of information revealed that Third Beach is considered a hiker's dream... meaning, according to the informant, that you started out for a hike and ended up at a beach and have a wonderful hike to look forward to heading homeward. Hmmmmm. Glad we didn't attempt it. I leave you with this shot here of Second Beach.

Second Beach tide pools glisten in the late afternoon summer sun.

It was a glorious day with some healthy fun and plenty of sun... it was sad to see it go.