Our Pacific Northwest Adventure began as a mistake. Friends of my parents' had suggested the trip, then changed their minds. Rather than drop out as well, my folks invited me and Dan to go along. So, after making a few additions to my meager outdoorswoman possessions, including a dorky wide-brimmed hat (I still refuse to buy hiking boots any hike that requires them is too long or too strenuous), we departed for Seattle.
No commercial airline stories in this entire travelogue every major connection was as scheduled, and departed on time. I don't expect it ever to happen again, though. We did have one airplane adventure that comes later. And, as usual, food will dominate.
Day 0 Orlando to Renton.
After our arrival at Sea-Tac, we were shuttled (free of charge) to the Holiday Inn Select in Renton where, apparently due to a large tour group descending on the hotel, we were given an upgraded room on the Executive Level. In addition to the living room/kitchen accommodations the bathroom included a Rubber Duckie. Now that's real class.
I ordered an Emerald something or other from the bar, and recall very little other than it was in a tall glass, green, and had many kinds of liquor, including a Bacardi 151 float. I did sleep very well.
Day 1 Renton to Friday Harbor
Since the seaplane departure wasn't scheduled until 3 pm, we went to the Flight Museum where Dan was enthralled and intrigued, and I followed along a polite and respectful five paces behind, and reminded him to look up from time to time, as half the exhibits were hanging from the ceiling. I did enjoy the walk-through of Air Force One, however.
At 2:30, we met Mom & Dad, and our two guides from Arabella Adventures, Shannon and Dana, at the seaplane hangar and proceeded to our worthy craft for the flight to Friday Harbor. Air Force One, it wasn't, but it was my first ride in a seaplane, and we got to wear the cool earphones and listen to the chatter. Great fun.
Event #1 for the tour was a whale watch cruise. A representative from The Whale Museum was to be present to give us some background. To our surprise, it was Ken Balcolmb, head honcho himself, and someone well acquainted with Dan. They had a nice, albeit short visit, as he was unable to remain on the cruise. We were fortunate that the whales were out in vast numbers; we saw just about all the members of the 3 resident pods in the area. Seas were calm, clouds were nil, and the sunset was magnificent. Throw in a little gourmet pizza and some wine, and it was an evening to remember. Dan tested his new video camera, and we have great footage of the whales, complete with sound. Some of the whales. Much of Dad saying, "Lelo, over there! Another one over there!" Thanks to Captain Tom and Angela for keeping us in the path of the whales, while still obeying all the federal regulations.
Our room at Friday Harbor House came with a huge Jacuzzi tub that was separated from the sleeping area only by a curtain. View of the harbor, plus a fireplacegas, but the romance was there. A bottle of port from the market down the block, and we were set for the night.
Day Two - Friday Harbor
Dawned dark and dreary. And rainy, even. Homemade scones on the breakfast table brightened things considerably. Marionberry jam. Homemade Marionberry jam. Good! Of course, no mere weather stood in the way of our stalwart band, and since the kayak guide thought it would clear, we hauled out to the launch site. I'm really glad that we got to drive the 12 miles to and from the kayak launch/return point instead of bike. There, we stood in the rain and were pfd'd, spray skirted, and instructed in the basics of handling a sea kayak. For Mom & Dad, this wasn't much, as Shannon and Dana took the rear of their kayaks. Dan and I were in what is affectionately known as the "divorce boat" since we had no one with any experience and had to rely on each other. Poor Dan had to coordinate steering with his feet and paddling with his hands, a task complicated by the suggestion that we would do best to paddle in tandem. Anyone who has seen Dan in step class knows that rhythm isn't exactly his best thing. But, we managed to survive, and although following behind the rest of the group, where the leader had selected the path of least resistance didn't seem to be something he wanted to do, we arrived at the beach for lunch along with the other boats. My knees and quads ached from the "be one with the boat" position, but I like to think I got the hang of the push-pull stroking. The rain stopped almost as soon as we got the boats into the water, and my dorky hat served me well. Winds and currents were a challenge, but coming back was a piece of cake. Besides, the hotel had packed Ghiradelli chocolate bars into everyone's box lunch. How could a day be bad if you got chocolate for lunch?
Although we wondered why there were no lights in the restrooms where we peeled out of our wet clothing and got into dry duds, we just chalked it up to 'roughing it.' When we returned to the hotel and stood at the elevator, the clerk told us the power was out, and we'd have to take the stairs. Turns out that the hotel generator provided limited electricity, and that the power outage was island wide. Hence, the darkened restrooms. Also became difficult to find a restaurant that had enough power to cook. Dan and I went down to the ferry dock and had some grilled oysters and a beer, while Mom tried to figure out how to get her hair dry. We went back to the hotel; Dad had plugged the hairdryer into the emergency light outlet, and we begged our way into Docksiders for dinner. Halfway through the meal, the power returned it had been off about 6 hours, and I can imagine that had made a dent in the local economy. I had had mixed feelings of being out in the roaring surf instead of watching Agassiz and Sampras in the US Open Finals, but it turned out that with no power, I would have missed the match anyway. We took advantage of the tub and fireplace. And some more of the wine.
Day 3 to Orcas Island.
Ferry. No sweat. Gear loaded into the van, Shannon put the van in the line, and the rest of us walked the short distance to the dock. Within an hour, we were docked at Orcas Island. Given the clear day, Shannon decided we'd go straight to the top of Mount Constitution where we could take advantage of the view. In the Pacific Northwest, one takes the sunshine when one can. The view from 2000+ feet was a marked change for us flatlander Floridians, and we climbed to the top of the tower to get up a little higher and admire the panoramic vistas.
Next stop lunch at Olgas, a café/art gallery. Local artists show everything from hand-spun, hand-dyed yarns to metalwork. Fortified in body and soul, we hiked from a forest of pines, hemlocks, and Madronas down to a rocky beach to investigate the tidepools. Lots of little crabs and sea anemones. Reminiscent of my first "date" with Dan all those years ago.
Our accommodations were on the other side of the island, at Deer Harbor Resort. Even nicer than the Friday Harbor House. Private cottages. Outdoor hot tub on the deck. Another fireplace. Fortunately, once the sun went down, the temperature dropped enough to enjoy the romantic benefits. This one actually made heat! Enough time to test the hot tub before driving back across the island to Rosario Resort for dinner. We arrived at the mansion, part of Moran State Park where we had reservations for pre-dinner drinks and appetizers. Dad had to be reminded that I'm no longer 12 and could take responsibility for how much of that fantastic sourdough bread I used to sop up the broth with my mussels, but we were once again in a gorgeous setting with a lovely view. We went upstairs for a slide presentation about the estate, and found, to our surprise, a man playing a Steinway. Verifying that we were in the right place, we were encouraged to find a seat up front, of course, where all the empty seats were. The presentation was not the Park Ranger talking to a screen while clicking from one picture to another, but rather a combination of piano, pipe organ, and comedy, intermingled with the photographs by Robert Moran which had been converted to slides. When our host asked for a volunteer, Dad, of course, pointed to me. However, this guy was cool he made Dad come up and demonstrate how the pipes of the organ worked. I got mine, though, when he brought me up as well, with a MUCH BIGGER pipe to blow. As a finale, he called upon Dan, who expected yet a larger pipe, but was given this teeny-weeny pipe. In true family harmony, we blew into them in unison and produced something resembling a musical chord.
After a tour of the rest of the library of the mansion, resplendent in old tomes, including a complete first edition set of Zane Grey novels, we went back downstairs for dinner. And, the bread of the previous hour didn't interfere a lick with the enjoyment of my entrée.
Day 4 Orcas Island
Deer Harbor's breakfasts couldn't hold a candle to those of Friday Harbor, but they provided enough sustenance to get us going. We picked up box lunches from a local eatery and headed out for our first day of real hiking. After a warm-up hike to Cascade Falls, we headed for the true hike around Mountain Lake. A respectable 3.9 miles, with a .8 mile (each way) spur to Twin Lakes. Everyone practiced spotting mushroomsfor Dan to photograph. Eventually, we only stopped for the ones we hadn't seen before, or it would have been a three day hike. A picnic lunch at the lake's edge at about the three mile mark lightened our packs. Somehow, the food doesn't seem as heavy once it's eaten. At Twin Lakes, Mom & Dad went back with Dana, while Dan and I did a short jaunt around one of the lakes. On our return, we encountered a woman in a 4 wheel electric cart with a cute small, yellow service dog. She was having trouble navigating a rocky uphill section of the trail, but didn't really want much assistance from us. We helped her get the leverage she needed, and she was chugging along at a much faster clip than we could manage.
Somewhere near the end of the trail, we found a set of keys. Since we'd passed a couple of other hikers, and the trail was a loop, we were reluctant to take them back to the parking lot, so we put them conspicuously on a stump and moved along. Shortly thereafter, we discovered our electric cart lady trying to mount her vehicle. She confirmed the keys were hers, and was grateful that we'd found them. We then noticed that she had fallen from the trail and was trying to gather her possessions and get them back onto her cart. Somehow, she'd managed to get the cart onto the trail and get it right-side up. A tree had stopped her fall, and her face showed the damage. Dan went back for her keys, Shannon pulled out her first-aid kit, and I stood around making idle conversation. Caroline, as she introduced herself, had "respiratory rigor mortis" her term for post polio. She was alone because her friend hadn't been able to make the trip, and she didn't want to pass up the trail. I should be so independent. Once she was cleaned up, we insisted on sticking with her until she got to her car. Of course, this meant she had to slow down, and we had to haul ass, but she regaled us with tales of her days leading pack trips with llamas.
Day 5 to Port Angeles (and Sequim) In Which we Attempt to Fly out of Orcas.
Arriving at the little airport on Orcas, we found ourselves in what was quite possibly the only heavy fog for miles around. Localized or not, we made ourselves comfortable in the small waiting room and watched as Shannon began calling around to the charter pilot, and looking into alternative routes off the island. We were supposed to fly out at 9:30. At about 11, the dispatcher proclaimed she could see Sucia and that meant that the landing strip should be visible. When we peeked outside to see Sucia, Mom thought they'd been talking about a statue, not an island. That was good for about twenty minutes of laughter. The plane was sent from Friday Harbor, but by the time it got there, a matter of perhaps twenty minutes, Sucia had disappeared into the fog once again.
Plan B was put into effect. Grab sandwiches, make the noon ferry to Friday Harbor where the weather was perfectly clear, and fly to Port Angeles from there. So, an hour on the ferry, where we ate our lunches, a quick trip to the airport, and into a Piper Chieftain for what turned out to be a fifteen minute ride to Port Angeles. Original timetable had the flight as an hour, but we ended up in a bigger, faster plane, so some of our time was regained. However, our original itinerary was shot. Never fear, Shannon and Dana juggled things, and we checked into Domaine Madeleine, a B&B to end all B&B's in Sequim (pronounced Squim), and went to walk along Dungeness Spit. Nice beach, good driftwood, and a seal leaping for seagulls in the surf.
Day 6 the Olympic Peninsula
The downside of our itinerary was that we couldn't be around long enough to partake of the full Domaine Madeleine breakfast. Instead, Jerri provided us with box breakfasts which would have been enough to sustain any mere mortal until about four pm. We ate what we could, packed the rest and headed to the booming metropolis of Forks to pick up Naturalist Ron, a local native, to help expound on the wonders of the Olympic Peninsula. First stop, Ruby Beach at the Salt Creek Recreation area. Great driftwood, rock formations and tidepools. We picnicked on drift logs and Dan taught Ron all about manatees in Florida.
After lunch, we drove to the largest Western Cedar in the country, northern hemisphere, or world take your pick. Most of it was dead, but there was still enough growth at the top for it to qualify as a live tree.
From there, we were off to the Hoh Rainforest for a hike along the Hall of Mosses trail. More mushrooms for Dan, and another easy walk. I met up with my first mishap as I was reaching to open the restroom door, someone on the outside pushed it in, and bent my fingernail back. I'll have to think up a better story for that one. Not up to my usual standard of klutziness.
We returned Ron to his truck in Forks. Dinner was at a fantastic restaurant in Port Angeles, Bella Italia. The cioppino was absolutely to die for. We were joined by Dan's former executive secretary and her husband, whom he hadn't seen in years after she retired to the area. We waddled back to the van and returned to our luxurious quarters at Domaine Madeleine.
Day 7 Olympic Peninsula
Today was a sleep-in day. For most, anyway. I'd been up early the day before and witnessed a spectacular sunrise over the Straits of Juan de Fuca (love that name!). I reported this to the others, who now felt obligated to rise early on a late morning so they could enjoy it, too. Ha! I slept.
Breakfast began promptly at 9 am. Otherwise, the breads would be cold, we were told. We ate fresh baked rolls, croissants, at least 4 kinds of cheeses, jams, jellies, fruit, juice, and goodness knows what else before the main course was set before us in all its glory. Today's offering was crepes filled with apples, with calvados filling and a caramel sauce, and some Black Forest ham. The presentation was a work of art, with hearts and butterflies cut from orange peels, and pansies on the plates. For 'dessert', we had a Thai black rice pudding with ice cream. Just like we eat at home, right?
We had lunches ready well, almost readyat a local bakery. Shannon had said we'd be by to pick them up at eleven, but we arrived at 10:50, so they weren't quite ready. We hopped across the road to buy more film and returned promptly at eleven. We drove out to the Spruce Railroad Trail. The trail paralleled Lake Crescent and the surrounding trees provided shade and mushrooms. Dan's hobby keeps the pace from getting out of hand. Of course, hikes also take much longer, which can delay lunch, but nobody minded, since we were still full from breakfast. Not a difficult hike, but four miles is four miles, and we were delighted to meet up with Dana, who had driven the van to the end of the trail, and ride to our picnic spot. Shannon had played it smart and ordered only three sandwiches for the six of us, and nobody went away from the table hungry.
After lunch, we went to a Salmon Cascade exhibit where a surreptitious tree root leaped from the ground and sent me into a rolling fall on an otherwise perfectly level trail. Other than a nice bruise on my hip, I popped up unscathed. Will have to work on a better story here, too. From the Salmon Cascade, we went to Sol Duc and hiked to the falls at the end of the trail, about a mile and a half each way. We sat on a bridge and drank a toast to a great vacation (there was still a bottle of wine unfinished, and it seemed appropriate to empty it here.) A soak in the sulfur springs before dinner, and a blackened toe ring to show for it must remember to get out the silver polish and dinner at the resort. More good food, especially the clam appetizer. I'd hate to consider the baggage I'd be bringing home if we hadn't been hiking so much.
Day 8 Up, up, and away.
We rose early again, missing a whole salmon for breakfast. A magazine writer was staying at the B&B, and the kitchen was pulling out all the stops, but our tour had an itinerary, and that meant getting in the hike we'd missed due to our fog episode. This time, we packed the boxes into the van and took them to the Hurricane Ridge Visitor's Center for consumption. Shannon said there would be enough time to hike to the top 1.6 miles, but a 700 foot altitude gain and still have plenty of time to catch the plane back to Seattle. Mom & Dad opted for the meadow trail, and Dan and I went off with Dana. There was just enough wildlife (grouse, chipmunks) and scenery to ensure ostensible stopping for photographs, although breathing was the true purpose. The view from the top was worth it we could see into Canada on one side, and the States on the other.
Down was much faster than up, easier to breathe,
but just as tough on the muscles. We drove to the airport, flew back
to the seaplane hangar, and were shuttled to Sea-Tac. Our plane didn't
leave until 10 pm, so we checked our luggage in a holding facility, and
took a cab to Pike's Place Market. Mom & Dad had never been,
and I think they enjoyed the sights and samples. We bought some smoked
salmon, appropriately thrown across the stall, and some hazelnuts and fireweed
honey, something I can't find anywhere else. Since Mom & Dad
had an earlier flight, we parted ways and wandered a bit more before
settling down for dinner. The bar at Place Pigalle was open, so we
had a leisurely drink, and by then they were open for food service.
A fitting end to a delightful vacation.