On the Olympic Peninsula

So I survived the night of horrible mosquitoes. Stuffing a feast of hamburgers while attempting to keep the bugs out of my mouth was not enjoyable; returning to Bellingham and its bookstores was. I spent the day cruising along the coastal agricultural lands and it was simply pleasant. Later in the day I decided to take a side trip to Anacortes, having been here twice before. The stop at Safeway continued my search for bananas that were actually ripe, once again I failed. I was tired and decided to stop at the elementary school to camp in its back field.


The next day I continued along and felt the scary rush of trucks as they rumbled across the Deception Pass bridge. It was pretty nice, but HWY 20 was simply too busy. As soon as I got off the main route riding was enjoyable on Wibley Island once again. Then it was on the ferry and finally I was on the Olympic Peninsula after dreaming of it many times. Port Townsend with its abundance of historic structures was endearing. I bought a book of John Wesley Powell's travels and visited the library and local farmers' market. Simply a beautiful town and thanks to the local bicycle club I had cycling maps for half of the peninsula. I set off and near Sequim came upon two cyclists riding the coast. We decided to camp together and had a relaxed evening and warm showers.


The next day we leisurely cycled the Olympic Discovery trail, which was largely on multi-use paths. At Port Angeles they took the ferry to Victoria while I loaded up with four days food. At the post office picking up my package I found Chandler. We caught up on the last two days apart and then after debating what to do decided to cycle up Hurricane Ridge. We camped that night outside the road on a blockaded road. Hanging the bear bag that night was tricky, but I made it down the tree safely. The next day Chandler and I enjoyed the constant grades on the climb to Hurricane Ridge. From sea level to over five thousand seemed easy and at the top we could see into the heart of the Olympic Mountain range and across the waters to Victoria and Bellingham. It was a thrilling descent all the way down! We feasted on chicken from Safeway. While we were eating I saw the Canadian cyclists who I thought were long past. It was a grand happy reunion! Then the ferry came in and Frank and Jarred where back! We joined forces and the party train left Port Angeles. We tried to find a place to camp off a insanely steep gravel road and almost camp in the middle of a dirt bike trail. Great randomness continued as my friend Nina got in touch with me via my horrible phone and we had a place to camp at Luke's just up the road. It boosted our spirits once again and the ride along Crescent Lake in the evening was calming. Luke's place on the lake was unbelievable and he was an awesome host along with all the rest. All four of us jumped into the lake. I was happy to see my friends again.


We decided to press onto Forks for Independence Day. At Luke's suggestion we took the mountain bike trail on the North side of the lake and it was a great adventure. We dove into the most beautiful cove I've ever seen! We charged towards Forks and found all the surrounding campgrounds full. But Frank and Jarred came up big time by finding a local hotel owner who let us camp on their back lawn. We watched cars being destroyed at the demolition derby. Then we feasted. Four hungry male cyclists celebrated the 4th of July with 4 Lbs of hamburger, 4 hot dogs, 1 Lb of bacon, a bag of potato chips, 1/2 Lb of cheese, a pound of veggies, and an onion. It was so much food we had to wait a half hour to polish off the large apple pie and milk shakes;-) The next day we had a meal of sausage, eggs and torillas. During breakfast a guy offered on of us $20 to be his partner in the horseshoe competition. Jarred had a great arm and unfortunately lost just out of the money round. Then the three cycled South and I went to Rialto Beach. It was overcast on my return to the Pacific, which put me in a reflective mood.

The next morning it was raining along my coastal campsite and picture taking was not an option. I headed out and back to Forks. By that evening I made it to the Hoh Rainforest and met Taylor, another cyclist on the coast. At dawn I hiked thru the moss drapped rainforest that forced one to slow and contemplate the length of time. Then I cycled out and spent one final night along the Pacific. Taylor and I walked the beach each on our own and then shared a 6-pack of brew. Once again rain, heavy rain found us in the morning. I joined up with a British couple and a Portland women and together we bore thru the rain. We all stopped at the local cafe and admist small puddles at our feet I ate a monster burger, fries, and a bowl of chili with ease. I stopped at the library and discovered my friend Nina was not going to be in Seattle this weekend so I decided to pass on a night with the cyclists in one of the nicest campgrounds of the trip. I missed an important turn and this forced me to cycle an extra 30-40 miles. It was maddening and depressing! And the campground that night was up a brutal hill in the dark! At least I got a shower and had a nice fire to warm the humid darkness. The next day at lunch I was afraid my pace was too slow to make the ferry and I used the last few weeks of riding to rush onwards. It was exhausting and there were some STEEP coastal hills that I was forced to climb. I rolled into Bremerton in good time and had a wonderful nap on the ferry ride across to Seattle. I awoke greatly rested just in time to see the skyline of Seattle dominating the horizon across Puget Sound. Then I was on solid ground and thus completed my ride. Except for the ride uphill into the wind to my friends' house. But there old friends and good food and brews at the end.