Just Beachy

Good morning, my friends. We couldn’t have asked for better weather for our beach hikes yesterday. It was sunny and warm enough to be out without jackets. Some folks were in shorts and flip-flops, and that would have been comfortable too. I’ll tell you about the hikes in a minute. First, let me back up to the day before. We were out to walk around the RV park a little bit. It isn’t a large park, and we can see pretty much the whole thing from our door. On our walk, I spied these pretties growing in someone’s garden.

Also, this painted rock near the laundry room.

Then yesterday morning, I had some time to work on my slow-stitching. This is the first stitching I’ve done since before we left home.

Okay then. Everyone got your hiking boots on? Let’s head on down the dusty trail. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out the tsunami evacuation route. If you feel any earthquakes, go that way.

All right then…our first stop was Ruby Beach. This is where we’d hoped to do some tide-pooling. 

We checked for low tide before heading out. The lowest tides over the next few days would be during the midnight hour, and…sorry…we’ll miss that. The daytime low tide was at around 10:30 a.m. Unfortunately, what I read about tide-pooling is that it’s best done when the tide is at less than a foot. Our low tide was around four feet. So we didn’t see much, but it was still worth the trip. We enjoyed our time near the ocean very much. 

Okay now before we go, let me remind you of all the ways you could die out here today.

After reading all that, our shadow selves were a little nervous, but they came along anyway.

It was a pretty steep trail down to the beach below. We stopped at the first overlook. This is what we saw.

As we made our way closer, this is what we saw.

I wanted you to notice all the driftwood on the beach.

We picked our way over it, and looked back.

Here’s some information about it.

And then we walked north along the beach. The sea stacks were impressive. This one had a hole going all the way through…formed by water, no doubt.

This was the one place I tried to get closer to see what lived in the surf. These little mussels were tiny…maybe the size of a marble.

Here’s a little information about the tidepools.

If we were to get out to the island in the background of the image below, we had to ford the stream you see at the bottom. The water wasn’t deep, and I was wearing waterproof shoes. The problem with waterproof shoes is that they’re only waterproof if the water doesn’t come over the tops and seep down inside. It was tempting to jump here, but instead, I made my way to a log where I could balance my way across.

Here’s a picture of Mike making his way across the same log. I had my hiking pole with me, and I could plant its point in some logs to the right. Trouble is, that wasn’t possible when I crossed back the other way. There were no logs to my right when I faced the other way. Nearing the middle, I lost my balance and had to step down off the log, wetting my leg about halfway up my calf. Oh well. It barely bothered me after that.

This was a hole where one could get out on the other side of some of the rocks. The tidepools didn’t look any more promising over there, and so I didn’t attempt it.

These driftwood structures are made by tourists for fun, but I also know that building these shelters is a Coast Guard training exercise.

Looking back in the direction we’d come, it looked like this:

Continuing on, we approached this big island. It was too big to be considered a “stack.”

Looking out to sea, I had a good view of Destruction Island and the Destruction Island Lighthouse mentioned in yesterday’s post.

Next to the island, Mike caught this image of me taking a picture. It gives you some idea of scale.

Here’s the picture I was taking:

And then we headed back the other way. We had more hiking in mind.

I turned back for one more shot of the beach beyond the island.

As we walked back, I noticed this gelatinous blob. These are common on the beach here…a kind of jellyfish. My foot is there for scale.

From there, we drove another 12 miles (or so) south to one of the Kalaloch beaches. There are several pathways to the beach, some are numbered. We ended up at Beach 4.

There were approximately 50 steps down to the beach. I’m certain they’d multiplied to 5,000 steps on the way back up.

Toward the bottom, the trail leveled out.

This was blooming alongside the trail.

All right my friends. Let me remind you once again of the perils that await you on the beach.

Here’s a little information about the stacks we’ve seen.

And the rocks you’ll see along the coast in the Pacific Northwest.

Here was where we made our final descent to the beach from the trail. It required a short distance of rappelling using the rope provided. It was a little bit scary, but not terribly difficult.

Once down to beach level, we had to pick our way across these rocks to reach the sand. This beach was more rocky than the one before.

Walking north, this is what we saw.

On a high peak on one of the tacks, we saw this gull. “As a matter of fact, I do own the beach.”

As we walked along, I kept my eye on him because I wanted to try for better pictures as we drew closer. Eventually, I saw him fly away, but there was another bird there too…a female maybe?

Here’s a closer shot. It looks like a female. Possibly there’s a nest here? It seems late in the year for that.

Looking back the way we came, it looked like this:

From there we ascended the 5,000 steps that replace the ones we took on our way down. That was a good amout of hiking…more strenuous than you might think. We headed back to the RV for lunch and naps. After we’d changed our clothes, we headed to the grocery store across the street from the RV park to pick up a few things we needed. While there, I scored my first refrigerator magnet of the trip.

So today will look something like yesterday, although we won’t be on the clock at all looking for low tides. Today’s hike will be through the Hall of Moss in the Hoh Rain Forest of Olympic National Park. It’s a short and easy hike, and it will be quite different from what we did yesterday. 

Our plans for tomorrow will be to chill out. I should have lots of time for slow-stitching, and it’ll be good to relax for a while. The hiking sounds like fun. The relaxation will be welcome.

Forks, Washington

Good morning, my friends. Alternative titles for this post might have been "Construction Zone Ahead," or "Red Light District," but I'll stick by my old standby of telling you where we are when we reach a new destination. I'll say more about the road construction in a minute. 

We arrived in Forks, Washington, yesterday afternoon. As we drove out of Olympia, we saw a couple of barns.

Surprisingly, we saw these cooling towers for a nuclear power plant near Elma, Washington. They were easily visible from the highway as we drove by. We wondered aloud whether there were any nuclear power plants in operation in Washington. As it turns out, there is one in the state...on the Hanford site, near Richland. But we're not anywhere near there, so what's this about?

As it turns out, this is what remains of the Satsop Nuclear Power Plant. Construction started in the 1970s as part of a nuclear project (Washington Nuclear Project 3 and 5), but the project was canceled in the 1980s due to soaring costs and financial troubles. Also public support for nuclear power waned after the incident at Three Mile Island. The plant never generated a single watt of nuclear power, making it one of the most expensive public works cancellations in U.S. history. Today, the site operates as the Satsop Business Park, and the giant towers remain as a famous local landmark and occasional movie/photo set.

Driving on, we crossed this bridge.

It spans the Chehalis River. There was a train bridge right beside us.

The first town of any size we came to was Aberdeen, Washington

Samuel Benn, a New York City native, established a homestead on the Chehalis River in 1859. He later platted a town at the site and named it Aberdeen. According to historical accounts, the name has two possible origins: from the Ilwaco-based Aberdeen Packing Company, which opened a cannery on the homestead in 1873, or from the Scottish city of Aberdeen, named by an early settler who had lived in Scotland. Like the Scottish city, Aberdeen is a port settlement situated at the mouth of two rivers—the Chehalis and the Wishkah. An earlier name for the settlement was Heraville, which was recorded by Benn.

Wikipedia tells us that by 1900, Aberdeen had become home to many saloons, brothels, and gambling establishments. It was nicknamed both "The Hellhole of the Pacific" and "The Port of Missing Men" due to its high murder rate. One notable resident was Billy Gohl, known locally as Billy "Ghoul", who was rumored to have killed at least 140 men; he disposed of the bodies in the Wishkah River. Gohl was ultimately convicted of two murders.

And with no clue that we'd left Aberdeen, we entered Hoquiam, Washington. The two cities share a common economic history in lumbering and exporting, but Hoquiam has maintained its independent identity. It shares a long rivalry with its more populated neighbor, Aberdeen, especially in high school sports. Hoquiam was incorporated on May 21, 1890. 

Its name comes from a Native American word meaning "hungry for wood", from the great amount of driftwood at the mouth of the Hoquiam River. And there's the river.

Okay, and shortly after that, we took the right fork, heading toward Forks. (Pun unavoidable.)

The next bridge we crossed spanned the Humptulips River, and with a name like that, you know I had to look it up.

Just past the bridge, we entered the wide spot in the road known as Humptulips. The population of the area was 236 according to the 2020 census. The name Humptulips was the name of a band of the Chehalis tribe who lived in the area. The name comes from a local Native American language, meaning 'hard to pole,' referring to the difficulty local Native Americans had poling their canoes along the Humptulips River. According to other sources the word means 'chilly region'. It has frequently been noted on lists of unusual place names.

Just after leaving Humptulips, we came to the first bit of road construction we would encounter...and we were expecting this. And despite anything I'm just about to tell you, the road construction was a minor inconvenience. We were stopped for about 15 minutes here, and that was the longest delay of the day.

We'd already been given the heads up about this, and this is what Google maps told us. We could have taken the northern route, but we'll be coming back that way, and so we chose the southern route.

There isn't a lot to see along here, despite it being a coastal route. The image below shows our view for most of the day.

There were no towns, no gas stations, and...most importantly...no restrooms. We finally found a gas station that required taking a spur road off the main highway, leading to the town of Quinault.

This was a winding road that seemed to lead nowhere. Even when we reached the town of Quinault, it was a small Chevron station with a sign posted that said "no public restrooms." Shoot. We drove on a little farther to this recreation area. This is Lake Quinault, and I'm showing you only about 5% of the entirety of the lake. It was a large lake. There was a gift shop across from where we were stopped. The only option was a portable just down the road. Hey...works for me. Also, I forgot to bring any earrings with me, and so I found some affordable little studs in the gift shop. 

Moving on, we crossed the border into Olympic National Park.

Soon, we reached a spot where we could see the Pacific Ocean. Looking south, it looked like this:

Looking north, it looked like this:

And if you squint your eyes, you can see an island out there with a lighthouse. That's Destruction Island and the Destruction Island Lighthouse. Destruction Island is a small, 30-acre rocky island sitting about 3.5 miles off the coast. It is part of the Quillayute Needles National Wildlife Refuge and serves as a protected sanctuary for seabirds. The Lighthouse was built in 1891. The historic 94-foot masonry tower once guided ships along the dangerous Pacific Northwest coastline. The light was deactivated by the Coast Guard in 2008, and the island is closed to the public. 

Just north of this, we came to another area of construction. Here, there was just one lane of traffic, controlled by a stoplight. We waited about five minutes here.

Moving on, this is what we saw.

Just a few miles on, we came to another one. We waited just a few minutes here.

Beyond that...yet another. We waited another few minutes here.

This is where the Hoh Bridge is, and we were expecting this. 

There's the Hoh River.

Beyond that, we came to another. At this one, we had the green light. We sped up to get through before it changed.

Beyond that, it changed just as we approached.

We weren't finished yet, though. There was one more. This one changed to green just as we arrived.

And phew! We made it to Forks...our final destination! All-in-all, I think all the road construction delayed us by no more than a half hour.

We'll be heading back through some of that construction this morning. We want to go tide-pooling at Ruby Beach, and the lowest tide will be this morning. The tide isn’t particularly low, however, and so we’re not expecting the tide-pooling to be particularly revealing. We'll have breakfast and head out fairly early. There's a beach hike south of there I'd like to check out too. There is one other hike we want to take here in Forks as well, and I'll say more about that when we do it. 

I was sad to learn that one of the hikes we wanted to take is inaccessible because of a road closure, and so that will give us a free day here. It's been a busy couple of weeks, and we were busy in Olympia too. It'll be nice to have a day to do nothing, and we'll just soak it up.

So...hiking and tide-pooling ahead. Time to be on my way.