This week brings a few reflections on my time in Olympic National Park. In short, it was worth the extra driving and detour west from Seattle. I committed to a waterfall hike on the first evening. This meant one hour of walking and three hours more driving. The extra driving was painful but it was worth it. This was a single waterfall trifurcated laterally. It was also very loud as it was close to the bridge over the creek that doubled as the observation deck.

The first full day brought some frustration as there were admission restrictions that I didn’t research in advance. This forced a reshuffle as I worked in the morning and my afternoon plans were pushed to the next morning. So on Friday morning, I beat the crowds and hiked up to Hurricane Hill. It was a great little trail and paved the whole way so that even strollers were able to make the trek. At the top of the ridge there was even a resumption in cell service (a text message came through), albeit cell service from across the water in Canada. You could just make out the outlines of some of the buildings in Victoria, a city I visited as a child. I did not take a ferry across the strait on this trip. There was some wildlife atop the ridge also. Most people were enthralled by the black tailed deer. Some of the children focused hardest on the marmots popping in and out of their holes and play fighting. I was most excited to see a grouse with four chicks scurrying about. I’d never actually seen one in the wild.

On Saturday, a day that ended up having about eight hours of driving, I was up before sunrise and off to visit the Hoh Rain Forest. It was a good thing I got there as early as I did; by the time I left the line to get in was something like three hours long. The fir and spruce trees in that forest were massive. Some were hundreds of feet high and could be made into tables large enough to house King Arthur and all his knights, not that anyone would allow the giants to be cut down. Then I drove down the far west coast of the peninsula and stopped at one of the rocky beaches to put my hand into the Pacific. This was a metaphorical completion although the real journey is far from finished.

I ended Saturday at Mt. Hood in Oregon. That marks the second new state for me on this extended road trip after New Mexico. This was a destination chosen for a two night stay and a little bit of rest after so much movement. Even at the end of July one of the ski runs was still open on the mountain. I took the chairlift up and down but was not about to venture onto the slopes for the first time.