The morning went as most mornings have gone, oatmeal with dried cranberries and some almond butter, and I proceeded to pack up. I started to hear a couple drops and scrambled to put the tent away. By coincidence I managed to set up camp under a thickly-needled fir branch and I was able to get everything put away under its cover before the rain truly started. Once on the bike I cruised into Sequim and had a latte and egg and cheese sandwich, although it was more an excuse to charge my phone and use some Wi-Fi. I gave Nat and Mom a call, and shouted out a "hi" to Gramma and Auntie Jan, all of whom are on their annual "Women's Trip" where they pack the car and head north for hiking and margaritas. It was great to talk to them and catch up on their trip as well as mine.
Once my phone declared 100% I finished my coffee and took to the Olympic Discovery Trail. Although some of it was unnecessarily hilly and a couple of missed turns showed how a few spots could be marked better, it was overall a great bike trail. There were places where complete catwalks had been constructed above river canyons and they provided gorgeous views of the lush forest. I passed by my destination, Altair Campground, to get to Lake Crescent. Until this point I have thought of "glacial lakes" as the little guys carved out in the Sierras. Lake Crescent is truly a glacial lake, expansive and deep. It obviously makes a crescent shape and is bordered on most shores by mountains rising more than 1000 feet. One gets a true sense of an area being carved, gouged, and scoured by a moving sheet of ice when observing this lake. The water is clear at the edges and a brilliantly deep blue at its core. I had hoped to circle the lake but the day was waning and I wanted to do a little hiking back at camp so I turned around at the Storm King ranger station. This was my Western-most point of the trip, everything else from here will be east!
Once in the Elwha Valley I snaked along the Elwha River into Olympic National Park. A quick pit stop at Madison Falls proved to be well worth it and I was able to see my first waterfall of the trip. Riding along the valley was inspiring, with a raging river at my side and 4000+ foot mountains rising all around me, many still capped with snow. The river was oddly gray in color, most likely due to the dam demolition that's occurring upstream to restore the river habitat. I made my way to the back of Altair, set up the tent, changed clothes, and headed out to explore while there was still daylight.
The rainforest in Olympic is incredible, I've never been in an area as lush. There were ferns, moss, and green green green everywhere. Every turn revealed a new patch of beautiful hillside or forest and my hiking was full of joy. I had just finished "Walking" by Thoreau and was reminded of a passage that rang true to the moment:
"Life consists with wildness. The most alive is the wildest. Not yet subdued to man, its presence refreshes him. One who pressed forward incessantly and never rested from his labors, who grew fast and made infinite demands on life, would always find himself in a new country or wilderness, and surrounded by the raw material of life. He would be climbing over the prostrate stems of primitive forest trees."
This wilderness would express itself most forwardly on my return. Halfway back to camp I was watching my step when I heard a twig crack in front of me. Assuming it to be a fellow hiker I looked up to see a giant Roosevelt Elk not 30 feet in front of me, nearly blocking the trail. Glancing around, there was nothing else in this scene but myself and the elk. I paused and after assessing his temperament, pulled out my camera for some shots. Then I realized I had to veer from the trail to get back, because he looked too hungry and content with his meal location to be moving anytime soon. Since he wasn't the only one there who needed to feed, I made my way down the bank, over ferns and trees to get back to the trail a ways past the elk, getting hit in the ankle by a stinging nettle. I kept my eye on him, moved slowly, and never got closer because as tempted as I was to go touch the massive antlers, I know he's a wild beast and they can be lethal to our relatively frail frames. As I made my way around, a branch would crack or I would make some other noise that would cause him to raise his head, but he was too concerned with the feast. I stood there for a moment, taking in the scene in front of me, and thanked my good fortune for bearing witness to such a serene moment.
Elated, I made my way back to camp, fixed dinner, and fell asleep as soon as I could since I needed to wake up at 5:30 to bike into Port Angeles to catch the 8:15 ferry into Victoria.
On a slightly less awesome note, it's now been a few days of riding and I haven't washed anything. Usually I give my cycling shorts and jersey a rinse at a minimum and let them dry on Babe, the mobile clothes line, the next day but with such wet and unpredictable weather I can't risk having them stay wet. Along the trip I have been, I'm sure, quite rank at times and I thank all the waitstaff and bartenders who have been so cordial and just smiled instead of commenting on my wretchedness.
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