Glaciers and International Travel
We started our journey on Saturday morning, a little late (of course), so we didn't arrive up in Port Angeles until 4. It turned out to be a six hour drive, the last two of which were on a windy, tourist-laden scenic drive. Now, I know we are tourists too, but we have a little car and not a truck towing an RV laden with bikes and a grill. I'm turning into a snob. Maybe I already was one. Probably.
Anyhow, we get to the campground that we wanted to stay at around 4:30. It's nestled in a beautiful river valley between the snow-capped peaks of the Olympic Range, and is close to hiking and hot springs and all of that wonderfulness. Of course, it's full. The other nearby campsite is full. We wanted to stay close to Port Angeles as we were taking the ferry to Victoria in the morning (8:20 AM!), so the closest option was Fairholme, a campground on Crescent Lake, about 45 minutes from Pt. Angeles. Only three spots were left, and we snagged one that no one else could ever fit in - but our two-person backpacking tent fit perfectly!
A kind of dark picture of our campsite at Fairholme. 
The SUV in its natural habitat. 
Me on the sheer rock face to the left of the trail.
Aaron down by the lake.
View of me down by the lake.
Ooh, so pretty!
The trail used to be a railroad track. This tunnel was abandoned, but still looked pretty sweet. Aaron thought there might be bears in there, but I checked it out. No bears.
I almost stepped on this little guy. Playing around with the macro setting on my camera, I got a banana slug's view of a banana slug.
Self portrait by the lake.
We made it back to our campsite before sunset and remade the fire, having s'mores and marshmallows for dessert. We spend a lot of time on these camping trips playing with the fire, and this time was no different since we brought along these fake log things that were supposed to burn longer. They were cheaper than real firewood and made out of wood chips (so no weird additional chemicals) but they did not burn well. Of course, when they eventually did catch on fire, they wouldn't go out, so we stayed up until the last one burned down. We do that a lot, too - watching the fire burn out, just sitting there. Kind of nice, actually.
The next morning we woke up at 6:30 and broke camp by a little after 7. We hurried to Port Angeles, realizing that our phones were almost dead and we had no idea where the dock was for the ferry. But, we found it eventually, parked the car and hopped on the express ferry to Victoria, British Columbia, Canada.
Leaving the Port Angeles Harbor. The Olympic Range is there, but covered by clouds.
I wanted to take pictures as the boat was moving, but it was incredibly choppy and we were forced to sit down in an enclosed area. I ended up sitting on the side where the spray could get through the enclosure. Thank you Gore-Tex for keeping my feet dry. Eventually, we made it to Victoria - this picture shows the huge hotels right in the bay. If only we had actual jobs making actual money...oh, wait.
Oh Canada! We arrive, and the captain puts up the Canadian flag.
Downtown Victoria. So quaint.
A dark picture of me by the sailboat harbor in Victoria.
After spending a few hours in the Royal British Columbia Museum (great exhibits on the natural history of BC and the Native people in the area) we stopped by the Parliament building. Self portrait, 2007. It was quite chilly there - nice and sunny, but only 55 degrees - and windy. The museum was a good choice.
We took the 3:00 ferry back to the USA, where we had to go through customs twice and wait in huge lines. We were asked "how long have you known each other" and "what city and state where you born in?" which weren't as bad as other times I've crossed the border but seemed a little unnecessary as we'd spent about 6 hours in Canada and purchased nothing but lunch. After we got back to our homeland, we drove to our next campsite. This time, we struck out into the backcountry. Although we weren't quite prepared (first aid kit? Nope. Bear proof canister? Nope. Camp stove? Nope. Note: the campsite had bear wires, so we could hang our food. And we could build a campfire. But the first aid kit - nope. ) we needed a place to stay that wasn't centered on RVs and had a bit more nature. We picked out a pretty close campsite on the map, Boulder Creek, and determined it was a 2.5 mile hike in. It was 6:00 by the time we filled out our permits, paid our fees, and got to the trail head - plenty of time to get to our campsite before dark.
As we get to the trailhead, we see a bazillion cars parked there. This trail also leads to natural hot springs - one of two hot springs in Olympic National Park, and the only free one. So, it's naturally pretty popular, and therefore is full of disgusting bacteria and is sketchy in other ways. (So no, we didn't go in.) But what it did mean is that a troop of loud teenagers was getting out of their car at the same time we were. They had sleeping bags. They had towels. They were carrying a ton of crap and had a dog (not allowed on this trail). We were concerned that with the number of cars there that the campsite would be full and that these kids would get there first. So, we booked it. We hiked the 2.5 miles in about 35-45 minutes, which is no small feat when you are hiking. But we lost them! We don't know if they ever made it, but we didn't hear about anyone dying in ONP in the news, so we figured they were ok.
The trail to the campsite was an old road, from the 1920s when the hot springs had a resort there and you could drive the whole way. Nature has taken its course, though, and now you can see the remains of the road.
To cross where the road was washed out, we had to cross a log bridge. Here we are on the bridge. 
Once we got to the campsite, we found a tent spot and fire ring far away from the other campers. Check out our view now! 
We made a fire with some kindling we backpacked in and some (wet) wood we found. Our backwoodz skillz came in handy and we made our hobo dinners (potatoes, onions, garlic, and carrots, and butter in a tinfoil packet.) Aaron manuevers the hobo dinners in the fire.
Our tent in the wilderness. 
The next morning we woke up and hiked to the hot springs just to check them out. They were hot and springy.
Then, we made our way back to the car, at a more leisurely pace than the night before. However, we didn't really know what time it was and wanted to get on the road before one, so there was some urgency (Turns out we had gotten up at 8:30 and made it back to the car by 10. Something about sleeping in a tent makes you get up early.) Still had to ford the river in one place where the road had washed out. Aaron ponders the best path.
After getting in the car, we drove about an hour up to Hurricane Ridge. This is the do-not-miss-spot of the ONP and I am so glad we went. Look at this!
View of the Olympics. We camped down in one of those valleys.
Self Portrait at Hurricane Ridge.
From this spot you were supposed to be able to see the San Juan Islands. All I could see was cloud, which was pretty sweet, too.
After this, we drove the six hours back to Corvallis, brought all our stuff into the living room, and crashed. All the stuff is still in the living room. Oh well. A constant reminder of a great trip!
posted by Allison at 10:29 PM
2 comments
Last, but not least, is Zoey, the Princess Cat. When we were house/catsitting, Zoey was our charge. She is so cute, except when she wakes you up by walking on your face at 5 AM. She likes to sit on this futon with you. Look at the paws!