Four Day Journey Around the Olympic Peninsula

I realize, right out of the chute, that many people reading this have no idea what the Olympic Peninsula is.  It’s like this carefully guarded secret only Washingtonians are privy to.  Allow me a moment to attempt to enlighten you.

The Olympic Peninsula refers to the peninsula in the northwest section of Washington State where you will find the Olympic Mountains and Olympic National Park.  If you started from Olympia, which we did, you would drive north along the western side of Hood Canal, up to Port Townsend, then follow 101 along the northern section of the peninsula, passing Sequim, Port Angeles, Neah Bay, then south along the Pacific Coast to Ocean Shores, then east to Olympia (the Olympic Mountains being always on your left). I don’t know the exact mileage, but I’m guessing we did about 400 miles doing the loop.

It is a pretty drive, one filled with history, one filled with geographic features and beauty not found anywhere else, including a temperate rainforest.  It’s an interesting area in that it is somewhat isolated from the rest of the state, does not lead to any large population centers, and is an afterthought anytime people are listing their favorite sights of Washington State. Nonetheless, it is gorgeous for those who take the time to explore, by car or by foot.

As strange as it may sound, I had forgotten how much I loved exploring by car and living on the road, strange because it has only been a year since I returned to Olympia after spending six months living that way. I instantly fell into the rhythm of the road, embracing the lack of a schedule, and it took no time at all to grow accustomed to living on a whim.

Last year my shuttle bus, Puddle Walker, was my steed. On this trip it was my Nissan Pathfinder, and I found I loved car camping, the back seating area (fold-down seats providing enough leg room for a mattress and comfortable sleeping) very workable, and the joy of not wrestling a bus into tight spaces was embraced immediately.

What follows are a few observations, in no particular order.

Nature blows me away

The smallest of small touches me in the largest of large ways.  Walking along Ruby Beach at low tide, spying on sea creatures no larger than a quarter, a brilliant green, flanked by two orange starfish, Nature color-coordinating for all to see.

Two trees, possibly thirty feet in height, growing atop a huge rock stationed in the ocean, where the soil came from I know not, but those trees stood tall against the strong winds, sentinels for the coastline, teaching mankind a thing or two about tenacity.

A temperate rainforest, one of its kind, tucked a few miles from the Pacific, curtains of moss hanging in majesty from firs and cedars, hundreds of feet tall, home to the banana slug, a creature so renowned that it serves as a college mascot for a California school of higher education, GO BANANA SLUGS, GO!

History abounds and I, for one, find it fascinating.

This is an area steeped in Native American history, and seemingly proud of it. While we were there, we witnessed a Long Boat gathering at our campground, easily over one-hundred tents, housed by celebrants, and at night the chanting and deep drum-sounds brought a smile to my face. The rugged shorelines, the safe harbors, the dense forests, all were home for large tribes at one time, berry gatherers and fishers and whale hunters, subsisting on the old ways, the weaving and herbal medicines and long-houses construction, all remembered now in museums, all survivors clinging to the past like those two trees on the rock outcropping, somehow managing to hang on tight, somehow passing the history down to the next generation, a proud heritage attempting to regain their pride.

Late to the party but an attendee nonetheless, Captain Vancouver “discovered” this area way back when, attached a few ‘white” names to places, was followed by entrepreneurs and investors and hard-scrabble fortune-seekers, and towns like Port Townsend sprang up like wildflowers after a summer rain. They flourished for a time, fell upon hard-times, and some managed to reinvent themselves, Port Townsend being one of them, while others fell to the bottom rung of the economic ladder, never recovering from the loss of the timber and salmon industries, a story repeated often along my travels near and far.  Those who adjust live to dance another day, while those who cannot adjust, or refuse to adjust, find themselves blown in the wind.

People are people are people

And you can quote me on that.

Will Rogers is often credited with saying “I never met a man I didn’t like,” and although I would love to make that claim, my desire to be an honest man will not allow it.  However, during all of these travels in 2023 and 2024, I can say, with certainty, that my overwhelming impression of Americans has been a positive one. I like to believe that most people, the great majority, are good and kind, and the only reason we don’t hear more about them is because ugly and violence sells “newspapers,” while kind doesn’t play as well in the ratings.

I also believe, and I will go to my grave believing this, that Bev and I and the dogs are friendly and kind and respectful, and that battery of character traits goes a long way towards winning people over.  Friendly spawns friendly in return. I have seen it happen far too often to believe otherwise.

And, finally, Washington is a beautiful state.

I’m sure many of you know that already, but for those of you who have never visited this jewel in the northwest corner of the U.S., take my word for it, beauty abounds.  Three national parks, countless state parks, wildlife preserves, an inland sea (Puget Sound), a canal almost as large as the aforementioned sea, two mountain ranges, lakes and rivers too numerous for one man to even estimate the number, an ocean coastline, rainforests, rich farming land, the Mighty Columbia, a gorge of national fame, volcanoes and glaciers, and on and on and on we go, where the beauty ends nobody knows.

Plan a visit here; you won’t be sorry.  And I’m not talking about flying into Seattle and sampling the coffee; I’m talking about a down and dirty, rubbing shoulders with the flora and fauna and “real people” outside the glitz and glamor of the major cities visit, where nature will do her best to overwhelm any preconceived notions you might have about the natural world.

So, that’s about it.

Maggie, as always, was the perfect traveling companion. Toby hates cars and was quite happy when we camped each night.  Bev enjoyed the heck out of the trip, as did I, as did Tessa, our young friend who came along to dog-sit when Bev and I wanted to go inside museums.

Car camping is my new love, and this trip will not be the end of my car camping adventures. I have a big trip planned for late September and hopefully it will work out.

And you can bet I will take you along for the ride.