Day 23 – To Olympic or not?

Elevation = 573 ft

Song of the Day = “Creola” by Jimmy Buffett

I start the day in a quandary… do I drive to Olympic National Park or skip it and head to the San Juans? I download the schedules for the ferries to Orcas Island… if I move quickly, I can make it to Port Townsend by tonight, then catch the ferry to Coupeville, drive to Anacortes and then take the ferry to Orcas Island tomorrow. Hmmmm, such a quandary. Well, I decide to figure it out later and enjoy US-101 up the coast.

I miss the tsunami drill thanks to an inland short-cut courtesy of Mike (delicious breakfast of waffles with blackberries, homemade beer bread, sausage, fresh kiwi and the most wonderful coffee ever… check out the Craftsman B&B in Pacific City!!!!!!!! Strong props to you, Mike!!!)

I drive on 101 through several more touristy towns in Oregon. Outside of Seaside, I pass a sign advertising helicopter rides for $39. I have an, oh, 30 second fierce internal argument before turning around. “You have to make it to Port Townsend tonight! You’ll never make it at this rate!!!!”, says the rational side. “Helicopter ride!!!!! WHHHHEEEEEEEEE!!!!! How fun!!!!”, says the other, more insistent side.  I’ve never been in a helicopter before. I turn around. Unfortunately, they are closed. Bummer. 

Views along 101 on the Washington Coast

I take a series of turns to reach the Olympic Peninsula after crossing into Washington. I stop at a lonely roadside stand outside of Hoaquim, WA. “Best burgers again, 2011, Three Cities Area!!! The sign proclaims. I can’t remember the name (although the burger certainly stays with you, ugh).

Finally, after traversing mud flats, lonely highways, mountains, sloughs, and tidal pools, I reach the Quinault Indian Reservation at Queets (remember, best gas prices anywhere are on the reservations). The sky is crystal blue without a single cloud. I chat involuntarily with a horribly, staggeringly drunk old man while filling up my car. It turns out that they are having very uncharacteristic weather… no rain forecasted for days, while it normal rains constantly this time of year. I call my dad to check the weather forecast. Yep, clear. It turns out we are going to Olympic National Park…. And the Hoh Rainforest (which is magically dry!)

Hey! Who you calling a Hoh?

It seems that the Hoh Rainforest doesn’t get many visitors at this time of year. The entrance station is unstaffed. Two of the three campground loops are closed, and the one that is open is only 1/3 full. I find a great site along the Hoh River. Excellent. And once I get camp set up… it rains. Only for 20 minutes. Then blue skies again. Perfection.

Campsite 14, Hoh Rainforest, Olympic National Park

I am good at some things, but putting up a tarp is not one of them. This poor attempt took almost an hour.

Day 22 - Pacific City, OR

The day starts with English muffins, frittata (eggs, bacon, potatoes, onions and cheese casserole), smoked sausage, homemade beer bread and fresh squeezed OJ. I love you, Craftsman B&B! During breakfast, I meet a group of pharmacy students from Seattle, and we discuss the problems of academic medicine. It turns out that in the pharmacy world, retail work (i.e., working at Walgreens) pays much better and has better hours than working at a hospital pharmacy, especially at an academic hospital. Hmmm, sounds familiar. They head back to Seattle, and I head to the laundrymat (sic). 

Soaking tub... yay!!!

The Mackintosh Room

Actually, it makes me a little homesick...

While washing my sleeping bag (why on earth does it smell so bad?!) I notice a shady character walk in. About 6ft 3’, maybe 40 yrs old, slicked back hair of indeterminable color, knock-off Gucci sunglasses, khaki hiking pants and tennis shoes. He’s not actually doing laundry, just scoping the place out. Obviously, a person to avoid. Unfortunately, I’m the only person there. He strikes up a conversation about his murdered mother in Alaska (since when is this a conversation starter??????) and invites me back to his trailer for “some killer bud and some Percocet”. Ummmm, no thanks. Seriously. Appreciate the offer, but that sounds like a terrible idea. 

Laundry (and drying of the rain fly, tent and sleeping bag) complete, I head up the Three Capes Loop to the Tillamook Cheese Factory. Unfortunately, there are only family sized blocks of cheese and hordes of people at the factory, so I have some ice cream and drive down to the road to the Blue Heron Cheese Factory. Lovely! It’s missing the intense tourism of Tillamook, and has cheese tastings (free!) and wine tasting ($2). Perfect! At the wine bar, I  chat with a couple from Idaho (they recommend visiting a place I’ve never heard of called Craters of the Moon National Monument), and another couple originally from Ohio (They start yelling O-H!!!!!). I inform them that I am a Michigan fan (which I’m sure sours their day, but one must have standards) and chat with the bartender (sommelier?) about Olympic National Park, my next destination. “Don’t go there, you’ll get soaked with rain! Go to the San Juan Islands instead. Orcas Island, Moran State Park!” I purchase some wine, French bread, homemade prosciutto, buttermilk bleu cheese and head back to the B&B to eat my lunch.

Views along the 3 Capes Loop

More views

Orcas Island. Hmmm. Don’t like to camp in the rain. Skip Olympic and head to the San Juans? Too many decisions. Need to finish bottle of sparkling Riesling. First glass sooooo good. Second glass better. Third glass, where are my socks????? Fourth glass YUMMYYYYYY! Fifth glass SO SLEEEEEEEPPPPYYY!!!! HAPPPPPPEEEE!!!! And take a LOOOONNNNGGGG nap.

Dinner – most places on the Oregon Coast are closed on Monday and Tuesday. My only option is the Sportsman Pub and Grub downtown. It looks like Clintonville Tavern from the outside (and from the inside, come to think of it). I order the last of the fried oysters (caught off of Netarts just up the road… BTW, does one CATCH an oyster? It’s not like they run away or anything). I ask the bartender about the upcoming tsunami drill tomorrow. Turns out that this is a sore subject amongst the people at the bar.

They forgot to include the trail of feces streaming from the person running up the hill.

 “Yeah, when they had that whole Japan thing, the whole town walked up the hill just to see nothing” replies a mulleted, Beer-labeled ball cap guy. 

“Well, wouldn’t you rather see nothing than something?” I ask

“Well, they give us a 15 minute siren, and it takes me fifteen minutes for me to walk from my house over to here”, replies another man (sporting one of the heaviest beards I have ever seen. He looks like a demented Santa Claus). 

“But if your life was on the line, I’m sure you could make it in less than 15 minutes?” I ask.

“Naw, wouldn’t want to spill my beer.” Laughter all around.

OK. I drink another Mirror Pond while they continue to argue about which parts of town would flood in a tsunami and how high the waves would have to be to get above the dunes. Good times. And the oysters… delicious.

Day 21 - On to Oregon!

Elevation = 23 ft

Song of the day = “Long Time Gone” by The Dixie Chicks

I awake to the light patter of rain (then ignore it, roll over and go back to sleep). I toss everything in the car, soaking wet. It doesn’t matter – I’m at the half-way point tonight and my special reward. A 2 night stay in a very nice B&B in Pacific City, Oregon. But first, a day driving up the Oregon Coast. Reward enough!

I turn back north onto 101, which follows the coast all the way to the Olympic Peninsula. Near the town of Brookings, at the CA-OR border, I turn off the road towards the beach access. It is amazing! The early morning fog is beginning to burn off, and I decide to treat myself to a walk on the beach. I climb over the low dunes, and stroll across a tidal flat. The sand is deeply rippled as if by waves, and is still wet. “I bet this is covered during high tide”, I murmur and keep walking. As I crest the dunes on the other side, I realize that that statement is true. The tide is coming in (I find out later that I arrived just after low tide), and is slowly, almost imperceptibly, beginning to creep across the sand. Huh. It would not be a happy thing to get stuck out here (at least not all day) and so I immediately turn around. I stand atop the dunes near the car, and watch for the next 30 minutes as the flat slowly begins to fill with water. 

Flat between the dunes

See those footprints... I was just walking there.

Beach near Brookings

One of the plans for today is to visit Prehistoric Gardens, just north of Gold Beach. The RoadTrip USA Guidebook refers to it as one of “the Oregon Coast’s tackiest but most enduring and enjoyable tourist traps”. Sold! I am the only visitor, and for the bargain price of $10, I spend a happy 45 minutes wandering among life-sized concrete dinosaurs (it’s truly fabulous and tacky and worth every penny… almost as good as the Mystery Hole). The park was started by EV Nelson in 1953, when he first sculpted the T. Rex out front, and now there are many more concrete dinosaurs scattered along the lushly forested path. Most are in need of a good scrubbing/re-painting, and there is a delightfully seedy, dilapidated air about the place. Of course, I read every sign about the evolution of plant and animal life (explanations of the Cambrian explosion are noticeably absent).

He's a happy dinosaur!

Rowr!

Why is there a fish out of water? According to the explanation "The Icythosaur would be helpless in low water like this." Indeed it would.

Rowr!!!!

Happy, I head back up the coast, passing through small, picturesque tourist towns every 20 miles or so. The sun comes out, and 101 rarely loses sight of the ocean. It is amazingly scenic. In the town of Reedsport, I search for Don’s Diner (recommended by RoadTrip USA), but am unable to find it. Saddened, I pull through the McDonalds and continue up the coast through Oregon’s Dune Country. Here, you can’t see the ocean from the highway – the view is blocked by sand dunes almost 250 feet high. I almost pull into Honeyman State Park, but am put off by the long line of ATV’s heading in. Instead, I head up the road to Point Jetty State Park, which has ATV restricted areas of beach. Bless you Oregon for honoring the National Parks Pass (my admission is free!) and head to the ATV restricted area. The dunes are almost 100 ft high, and climbing them is a work-out, but the reward is a stroll on a deserted stretch of gorgeous beach. I walk for at least 2 miles, and don’t see a single person (of course, it’s 55 degrees with a stiff breeze blowing – not exactly beach weather). Afterwards, I climb up and down the dunes several times (got to work off that McDonalds) and continue north.

View along Jetty Beach

Nice long stroll on the beach

I pass through the industrial town of Coos Bay (the world’s largest lumber port) and up to Cape Foulweather (yes, it is), which was named by Captain Cook (the same Captain Cook that discovered and was summarily killed in Hawaii). BTW – If you are interested in Captain Cook and his many voyages, there is a wonderful book named “Blue Latitudes: Boldly Going where Captain Cook Has Gone Before” which gives details and modern day views of his travels. It’s an excellent read.

View from Cape Foulweather... yes, it is. It's sleeting.

Finally, as I pull onto the Three Capes Loop towards Pacific City, I notice signs for a “Tsunami Drill, 5-17, 10AM”, which is the day I am scheduled to leave. Might be cool. I am warmly received at the Craftsman B&B, Pacific City, OR with “Kahlua or Bailey’s flavored cupcakes” and am shown to my room (with the extra large clawfoot soaking tub). I sit in the tub and eat cupcakes (one of each… yum!). Dinner at the Pelican Brewery (locally caught fish and Chips) with a tasting sampler of their beer (beer is okay… Mirror Pond is much better). And fall into a huge sleigh bed with extra pillows….. zzzzz….

Day 19 - I DROVE THROUGH A TREE!!!!!!!! Oh, and saw some Redwoods.

Mileage = I drive through a tree!!!!!!
Elevation = Who cares. I drove through a tree!!!!!
Song of the Day = "Come On, Come On" by Mary Chapin Carpenter

Today, I'm going to drive through a tree! I pack up hurriedly, determined to be in Leggett (Home of the World Famous Drive Through Chandelier Tree) by 8AM. "Oh boy, Focus, aren't you excited!", I exclaim, patting the steering wheel happily. "I bet you are! How many cars just dream of driving through trees!" I arrive in Leggett before 9. The drive through tree place is closed. I come back a little after 9. Still closed. Oh well, there is another drive through tree up the road in Myers Flat (and I didn't want to drive through your stupid tree, anyway). I'll head to the Avenue of the Giants first, then the drive through tree.

And Avenue of the Giants it is! Take the turn off of 101 North, and follow the winding road through Humboldt Redwoods State Park. At the beginning, you will find a nice brochure which marks each of the groves. And off we went, following the road as it zig-zags between the trees. And these trees are like, big. They're like, really huge.

Some perspective on size. It's wider than my car.

Who is that creepy person inside the tree?

Roadside tackiness - awesome!!!

 At each of the turn-outs, there is a nice informative display and a short (15-20 minute trail) through the redwoods. It's very tranquil, if a little creepy. After the wide open spaces and dazzling sunshine of the southwest, I find the redwood groves a little too quiet, too close and too dark.

And then... I get to Myers Flat. And the World Famous Drive Through Tree!!!!! And The Drive ON Tree!!!! "Oh boy Focus!!!! You get to drive THROUGH AND ON a tree! Aren't you so excited!" I'd like to think the car agreed.

I drive through a TREEEEEEEEE!!!!!!! If you look closely, you can see me waving from inside the car.

OK, so the picture for the Drive-On tree didn't work out as well.

It costs $6 (for me $5 because I'm alone... is this a pity bargain?) and takes about 5 minutes. But you get to DRIVE THROUGH A TREE!!! Totally worth it. Makes me happy even typing this.

A few minutes north of Myers Flat is the Visitor's Center for Humboldt Redwoods State Park. Well, it is simply wonderful. It has tons of interesting exhibits on everything from history to geology to flora and fauna (including a nice fern garden out front) to, of course, everything you wanted to know about the redwoods. This tiny, free (no fee to get into the park) Visitors Center gives both Arches and Joshua Tree (with their federal support) serious competition for best Visitor's Center. There is even a fantastic film about the flood that wrecked the canyon back in the 60s. The whole thing is superb. If you are passing through the area, it's worth a visit.

Detail from a timeline marked tree... Cooper, this one's for you! The best part is that they misspelled Magna Carta.

Fern Garden out front.

Looking up

 Happily, I return to the car and head for the Founder's Grove, a grove of old growth (i.e., never been cut) trees. There is a 0.5mi loop around the area. Luckily, there are no people in sight, despite the tour bus parked in the parking lot. I head deep into the woods. And then it happens. I am suddenly, deeply unnerved. It's just too dark, too quiet, too primeval, and there are way too many shadows. "Come on, Butler," I mutter to myself. "You were in the desert by yourself. You're standing in the middle of the most popular grove on the most popular trail. What's going to happen? Seriously. Chill out." But I am freaked out - every hair on the back of my neck is standing up... I can't explain why, just that I am deeply, seriously unsettled. I can't do it, and I turn around and walk very quickly back to the car.

I am leaning to the side because I'm about to run the F out of here.

Maybe I'm getting bad vibes because the trees know that I drove through one of them.

More of the Founder's Grove. From the parking lot.

Disturbed, I head quickly north to the entrance to Redwoods National Park. It has the standard Visitor's Center, but a nice Coastal Wetlands Trail (0.6mi).

Views from the trail.

Wildflowers in bloom.

It turns out that Redwoods National Park is mostly second and third growth redwoods (cut as recently as the 1960s). It serves mostly as a buffer for the surrounding state parks - Del Norte, Jedidiah Smith and Prairie Creek. The oldest and largest trees are actually in Humboldt Redwoods State Park (where I just was). There are no campgrounds and few hikes within the National Park. I head to Fern Canyon (where they filmed parts of Jurassic Park II) for a hike. Turns out that even though the federal and state parks are managed "cooperatively", they don't honor the national parks pass at the state parks (entrance fee $8). I bump down a winding "gravel" (aka mud and potholes) road towards Fern Canyon. At the entrance, the ranger looks at me and looks at my car. "You'll have to ford a few streams, but I think you'll be okay". Alrighty. And ford some streams I do. But it's worth the drive and mud. Fern Canyon is amazing - right off the beach, sheer cliff walls with a plenitude of ferns growing right on the cliff walls.

Herd of Roosevelt Elk near the trailhead

Trail to Fern Canyon... who says that moss only grows on the north side of trees?

Entrance to Fern Canyon

roading! Where's Ron when you need him?

The hike is a loop that takes you up the cliffs, then steeply down, and back down along the river bed. One small problem... the way is blocked by massive downed trees (of course, at the very end of the loop - within a few hundred yards of the starting point). I look up... there is a rock cairn on top of the logs. After struggling up a bank (and being horrified when I realize that the bush I am using to help me climb up is poison oak), and balance-beam walking several logs, I wind up 10 feet off the river bed, perched on top of a ridiculously large trunk with nowhere to go but down. It winds up being about a 5 foot drop onto a jumble of rocks, branches and logs. I envision the ensuing repeat knee surgeries (Be kind to your knees, you will miss them when they go) and/or broken ankle, and turn around to head back the long way.

Walls of Fern Canyon

Big ass clovers... compare with my foot at the bottom.

As I head north again, it is threatening to rain. I almost get a hotel, but at the last minute head to Jedidiah Smith Redwoods State Park and the campground ($35!!! That's more expensive than Yosemite and Grand Canyon!!). I do score a nice, private spot along the river. But it rains. I get wet. Oh well. At least the car gets washed.

Someone (besides me) needs a shower.

Campsite 57, Jedidiah Smith Redwoods State Park. On the Smith River. Flush toilets, (kind of) hot showers ($1 for 8 min), running water.

View of the Smith River from camp