The Seattle Ed.; Road Trip to HOH Rain Forest

The drive to the HOH Rain Forest was not as lengthy as expected. Maybe because I learned to drive on Long Island which means if there is an open road you DRIVE or maybe because at higher altitudes you move through space quicker – whatever - either way we made great time.

Enjoying the scenery on US 101 was only a portion of our delightful drive, the other part was the interesting town and street names that popped up along the way; names that stuck in our pea heads, awarding us with multiple days of laughter. Here is a list of some of our favorites, and please note to fully reap the benefits of the French names read them aloud in a VERY offensive bastardized French accent, or just ask Scooter to send you a recording:

· Kitchen Dick Road · Humptulips · McNut · Pysht · Beaver · La Push · Le Peoul

We arrived at the rain forest a little after 4pm but with the summer months approaching we had at least another 5.5 hours of sunlight to utilize. The ranger station was closed however a very friendly earth mother was at the ready to aid us in choosing the perfect nature trail and to inform us that the hand written notation on the official “WARNING ELKS CHARGING” sign was not very funny. Armed with our new knowledge about the Hall of Mosses (or Hall of ‘Moses’ as we took to calling it – of course), clarification that the Elk were truly NOT charging five dollars, and the hopes of a banana slug sighting we headed into the great green enchanted woods.

Once ensconced in the lushness of the tall trees and the hanging moss I found it to be, ummm, less, moist than expected. Unfortunately Washington has been rather dry lately so the Rain Forest was just forest sans rain. It was still lovely however, and I quickly found myself hypnotized by the combined soft sounds of the breeze skipping along the top of the old growth canopy and the rushing water careening down the HOH River.

We wandered the weaving pathways, inspecting each fallen colossal truck, some with full grown succulents feeding off the old nutrients. While on our journey of discovery Scooter recounted a story from Carl Sagan who logically concluded that where there are ferns there are dinosaurs. So by following this course of reasoning we both agreed that the HOH Rain Forest must be a haven for such prehistoric beasts. In addition upon discovering giant clover patches we expanded on Sagan’s scientific reasoning to presume that where there are giant clovers there must be leprechauns. It was obvious to both of us that the HOH Rain Forest was a land that time forgot where banana slugs engineered a civil war between the dinosaurs and the leprechauns, utilizing the Elk (acting as soldiers of fortune, charging $5.00 cash) to incite the rivalry between the two warring factions. The leprechauns, forever crafty and insistent on space travel for defensive positioning, attempted to utilize the towering old growth trees as their launch pads for space exploration however sadly the dinosaurs, too cumbersome for space travel, were determined to knock over every massive tree trunk to impede the leprechauns from ever escaping the earth’s atmosphere.

We exited the Rain Forest at 6pm without an actual sighting of dinosaurs, leprechauns, or banana slugs however Scooter did get a quick glance of an elk as we sped through the park gates, thankfully he had collected his quota for the day and was not charging.

At the T in the road we had the opportunity to choose either RIGHT, returning in the direction from whence we came with the certain knowledge that within 2 hours we would be enjoying a dinner of Dungeness Crab along the banks of the Strait of Juan de Fuca or LEFT, taking us 20 miles further west, depositing us on the shores of the Pacific Ocean where only armed with our blind optimism (and our Google Maps enabled Blackberries) we would discover a land overflowing with a cornucopia of fresh seafood. Guess what we did???

The Seattle Ed.; Road Trip to The Mountains

Saturday - Greeted by a gray overcast sky but we were not deterred from our 2.5 hour road trip to the Olympic Nation Park. I did all my pre-trip planning, printed out the appropriate documents and maps while Scott readied the tunes on his bursting ipod and checked the ferry schedule. Out the door with cameras, extra socks, sun block and all other adventure-ish paraphernalia, into our amazing ride, then off to the harbor for a ferry cruise across Elliot Bay to Bremerton.

The morning was awesome as we drove West. The weather began to break rather quickly and the warm sun burned away the clouds. The drive was glorious. Winding roads, glistening lakes and ponds, and bushy green trees that lined both sides of the road like fuzzy emerald walls. In no time we entered the town of Port Angeles on the North Central side of the park and decided to nourish our peradventure bodies with Jack In The Box. Looking back, knowing what I know now, I would have ordered more than just an egg and cheese biscuit and a small OJ.

Once inside the park proper Scooter proceeded to check out the naturalist exhibitions in the main ranger station, learning most importantly what to do if approached by a cougar while I conversed with a very friendly federal ranger who was rather impressed with my knowledge of the park and its features. After several minutes of deep discussion the ranger and I agreed that Scooter and I should visit Hurricane Ridge and the HOH Rain Forrest – perfect!

Back into the Hybrid we proceeded to make the climb up the side of the Olympic Mountains to an altitude of 5,240 feet. Along the 17 mile drive up to the ridge we were both stymied by the grandness of the snow capped mountains and the hazy valley below. We pulled off the road just prior to reaching the ranger station at Hurricane Ridge to snap some photos and drink in the calming serenity of the great outdoors. Outside the car the air was thin and crisp and the deafening silence was only disrupted by the bird calls echoing up from far below.

Just a few more yards and we were parked at the base of Hurricane Hill where we were greeted by the sight of many other nature loving visitors, some dressed appropriately (jeans and hiking shoes) and some inappropriately (spandex and flip flops). Once again we spoke to the local ranger and decided to take her advice and climb the paved 1.6 mile path to an elevation of 5,757 feet to the top of Hurricane Hill, what a good decision. The views were spectacular and at the tippy top of the ridge we sat alongside two Buddhist monks who were resplendent in their fiery orange robes against the deep blue sky.

As we picked our way back down the snow and slush covered path Scooter was unrightfully “tisked-ticked” by an alpenstock yielding septuagenarian Austrian who mistook his chivalry for unruly American nature hating behavior. Scooter’s response to the persnickety finger wagging was to shout “I moved off the path to give YOU ROOM TO PASS!!!!!” – but she just raised an eyebrow at me and continued her assent to the top. In addition to the erroneous European admonishment we were also confronted with an unruly gang of “Frisbee anywhere” players who thought it necessary to trot down the path while hurling a flying disc over our heads – it was their spandex clad woman (?) cohort who gave me the eye as they passed, just jonesing for a rumble, I however did not oblige.

Now back in the safety of our trusty non gas guzzling vehicle we set our sights on the HOH Rain Forest, a mere 2 hour drive away…varoooooommmmmmm