This morning began earlier than the custom we had established for this trip. Breakfast was included in the price of the cabin, and they let you know it. Greasy bacon, stale home fried potatoes, scrambled eggs by the carton, and muffins from the box. There was a silver lining though, breakfast came with Starbucks coffee. Whew. Three cups later we were racing up the mountain on our way to Hurricane Ridge.
Hurricane ridge is the spine of the Olympic mountains. A lodge was built there to look across the sweeping mountain slopes that gird the Elhwa river valley toward the dramatic range of mountains which are home to Mount Olympus, the home of the Gods. The lodge was built at an elevation of 5800 feet and Mount Olympus reaches up to just under 8000 feet. Both are dwarfed by Mount Lemmon just outside of Tucson, but in vertial feet only. Here, in the heart of the Olympic peninsula, the view from hurricane ridge causes your heart to coincidentally ache with pleasure at the raw beauty of this land, and a lust for adventure to explore such an untamed world.
We, however, arrived just after noon after cursing the road construction and the slow drivers. What took the better part of a month to get to Hurricane Ridge a century ago now takes about 45 minutes. With road construction it took a full hour. It is so nice at times to be an honorary outdoorsman.
As we drove higher and higher up the mountain we watched to our dismay as the clouds became thicker in direct proportion to our ever-increasing elevation. Once reaching the lodge I leapt from the car, camera in hand and snapped a quick set of photos for a panorama before the clouds scuttled the view. I then dashed to the lodge and snapped off another quick set. After that I looked back to see my wife and kids exiting the car and making their way to the lodge. Less than ten minutes later the clouds rolled in and turned the scenery to varying shades of gray.
We gathered at one o’clock to hear a park ranger spin tales of historical grandeur. Our kids took notes an applied the experience toward earning another shiny Junior Ranger badge. No kidding, they had to raise their hands and take an oath to protect the environment and everything. I was beamed with pride, and, of course, took a movie of the moment.
As the afternoon matured the weather continued its trajectory to full storm. The wind picked and the rain spat intermittently hinting at a greater imminent tirade. We, however, would not be daunted. We who collectively have hiked and backpacked in grueling conditions. We who have come to the top of the Olympic peninsula would most certainly have to hike a trail just to prove our outdoorsiness. Our kids had other ideas. They looked up at us with their sandals, shorts, and chocolate mustaches painted from steaming cups of hot cocoa.
We told them it would be only for a short time. We told them that after they reached the crest , we would be shielded from the wind. We told them that the view from the other side of the ridge would be spectacular. “You can see the ocean. You can even see Canada,” we told them. They bought it. One out of three wasn’t bad.
Clouds obscured the view. The ridge indeed sheltered us from the wind. The time it took to get there was short, but once there, they saw the snow. Had we known snow was there we could have used that as a bribe. All else became moot, for the kids from Tucson. We moved up the ridge taking photos, playing in the snow, and expounding upon the amazing view that we could have if only the clouds did not block it. If only…
Then the rain came. We made a run for the car, but once over the ridge, the wind battered us as well. I could see our skin turning red from the abusive elements. The rain was driven through our clothes. My son turned toward me and said, “Dad, it’s really cold.” We still had several hundred yards to go. Not knowing what else to do, my wife and I scooped up our kids and stumbled down the muddy path back to our L. L. Bean edition Subaru Outback. Next time I will just buy an Outdoor magazine.
Our car took us back down the way we came, stopping even for the road construction. It didn’t take long until we had warmed ourselves and began to look for another adventure.
Since our day in the mountains was cut short by the weather, we decided to wander down to the waterfront region of Port Angeles. There we toured the sand sculptures form the recent Masters Competition (my favorite was the sand castle maker), toured the Discovery Bay Exhibition, and wandered through the tide pool aquarium. The last being a wonderful stop. There we were shown a diversity of sea life, including the sea worms which would suck in their afro-like tops when we touched them, to the 21 legged sea-star. There was also a very shy octopus showing only a tentacle and its breathing vent.
We had dinner by the sea in an upstairs seaside bar, and then raced home for another soak in the natural hot springs of Sol Duc.