Hoh Rainforest

We packed up from our seaside stay and headed to the Hoh rainforest. Washington state has one of the few temperate rainforests in the northern hemisphere, and also one of the largest in the world. The rainforest is impressive. We stopped at a ranger station to pick up my by now mandatory park patch, and while we were there asked the ranger if she had any recommendations for what to see if we only had a day on this side of the park. The ranger, who was an older woman looked like a cross of Mrs. Claus and Willie Nelson, sighed and said “Honey, let me tell you a story. One of my colleagues had a lady come in and ask what she should do if she just had an hour in our park. He told her to just sit down and cry.” She then whipped out a map and began circling and marking things, ultimately coming up with a list of things to do, ordered by priority and amount of time they would take. The last thing she circled was Hurricane Ridge, where we planned on going tomorrow. As she circled it, she said, “Huh, better check on that. It might actually be sunny there.” Saying that, she grabbed the phone, dialed a number, and then balled into the phone “Of course its me you old bat! Who else would be calling! So is it sunny up there in that old station of yours? I’ve got a young couple who want to see some pretty mountains.” After a few more moments of banter, she put the phone down and said “Yup, its been clearing off up there in the afternoon, so you outta have a great view.”

The trees in the rainforest average 220 feet, often grow to over 300 feet, and are covered in moss. Because the air is filled with moisture and nutrients plants can grow without any ground contact, pulling all that they need from the air. We took a short hike in the Hall of Mosses. The name is the best adjective to describe it and we found that despite our high quality camera there was no way to capture the scene. We considered taking a longer, 6 mile round trip hike to see a nearby waterfall in the Hoh forest, (and Steven was semi-seriously considering following the same trail all the way to Mount Olympus and the Blue Glacier, a mere 18 miles away), but decided that with how little time we had today and how much there was to see, we would move on.

Our next drive was to the Sol Duc hot springs and falls. I was actually pretty excited about this; there’s a lodge there run by the National Park, and the pictures looked beautiful. To my disappointment, however, the hot springs had been turned into a commercial area and have been completely diverted into wading pools packed full of people. (Think of several chlorinated kiddie wading pools filled to the brim with people). I’m not sure where the pictures of beautiful rock pools in the brochure came from, but all that is left is a concrete water park. We thanked our instincts for not staying at the springs and hiked onward to see the Sol Duc falls. The falls were beautiful, although somewhat less impressive after having stayed by the much larger Snoqualmie Falls.

Lake Crescent

As was the norm for the day we packed back in the car and continued our drive up the Olympic Peninsula. There were several other things on our ranger provided itinerary still to do, but most of them were reasonably close to where we would be staying in Port Angeles, so we decided to just continue on and visit them later. The fact that our reservation very sternly warned that we must check in between 4:00 and 6:00 PM or risk losing our room may also have played a factor. Along the way though, we drove past the gorgeous Crescent Lake, a huge mountain glacier lake. It was so beautiful that we couldn’t just pass it by. We drove along until we found the same scenic overlook that Steven had visited with his family when they vacationed here, and hopped out do dip our dusty feet in the freezing water and snap a few pictures. We then continued on for the final 20 minutes of driving to our lodge.

As we approached the place we were staying for the next three days (outside the town of Sequim, pronounced Squim, not in Port Angles as we had thought), we began to get slightly worried. Our Garmin had us winding up into some hills outside of town, nowhere near the beach or the mountains, and with nothing to see except goat farms and some residential houses. It wasn’t looking promising, and we began to think perhaps we should have stayed a few extra days at our ocean-side hotel. Our fears were confirmed when we were led up to a small house, with nothing looking like a hotel to be seen. At this point I began to panic just a little bit. We pulled out our reservation from the lodge, and thankfully noticed that while we were in the right area it had slightly different directions to where we would be staying. We followed these new directions around the corner, and there found what is basically a very upscale, new-age bed and breakfast. (The Garmin had taken us to the owner’s house, apparently). The Lost Mountain Lodge is actually in a pretty area, hidden in trees with a view of the mountains to the rear, and about 5 minutes from the ocean itself. The people who run the place are perhaps a little over the top (they speak in a whisper at all times, use nothing but organic products, and talk of taking a holistic approach to life), but the room is very nice, modern, and spacious. Unfortunately I just can’t quite shake the feeling that we’re visiting a rather stuffy relative.

Until tomorrow,

Meditating Steven and Centered Libby

Travel question of the day: Is it ironic that we got lost going to Lost Mountain Lodge?

Today was a much more relaxed day than any of our previous days. After a week of furious activity, exhaustion finally began to set in as both Libby and I dealt with the various aches and pains we’d accumulated in our dash up Mount Si and then later rock climbing. We therefore decided to spend more time just sitting around today and less time exploring, even though there are tons of neat things in the area. The fact that we awoke to the sound of waves crashing against the shore this morning through our open window didn’t hurt our desire to just stay put either. I woke up fairly early as usual, and spent the early hours of the morning reading and looking out at the ocean while Libby slept. When she woke up, she joined me for a while until we both decided we were too hungry to sit any longer. Unfortunately, we only had two options for food: eating at the overpriced and mediocre lodge diner, or driving 40 minutes into Forks. Deciding that some variation in our diet and the possibility of internet were worth the drive, we set off. As we drove, we were very impressed by the beautiful scenery; the road was surrounded on all sides by dense forest, with hanging moss. The road was shrouded with morning fog, adding an ethereal quality to everything, and we occasionally caught majestic glimpses of the ocean as we went along. (Libby here, quite impressed with the writing skill in this blog entry, nice work Steven. Haha) Despite all this, I couldn’t shake a foreboding sense of doom that strengthened with every mile as we came closer to Forks. Shaking this off as merely the aftereffects of my tiredness, I concentrated on trying to find a coffee shop as we came into the town. It wasn’t until I parked next to a cafe that I realized something was horribly wrong. Giggling teenage girls were everywhere, posters of frighteningly pale people adorned all the buildings on the street, and every sign proclaimed “Welcome Twilight fans!”. I had unknowingly stumbled into the heart of Twilight fandom: the book series was set in Forks, Washington. My sense of horror continued to mount as we ordered our Sparkle Vampire Lattes, collected our Team Edward napkins, and sat down at a table displaying various trinkets “Hand carved by members of Jacob’s Tribe”. When I finally got around to mentioning this to Libby, she answered that she’d known the significance of Forks all along, and couldn’t wait to stop in the Vampire Den souvenir shop next door after our coffee. One week into our marriage, and I’ve already been utterly betrayed by my wife. I have to admit though, that exploring the shop with Libby was actually a lot of fun. The place was totally over the top, with

Libby with her two favorite men

fake grass floor, fake trees that glittered holding the ceiling up, and of course dozens of girls seriously contemplating the merits of a “Bella for life” bracelet verses a life sized poster of Edward staring longingly at them. Eventually I managed to pry Libby away from the place, and we headed to a pizzeria for some lunch (“Twilight Menu available”), the local outfitter and grocery for snack foods and first aid supplies (“Twilight Merchandise available! The location Bella shopped for her food!”), and drove past the RV park on the way out of town (“Welcome Twilighters!”).

Thankfully, once past the RV park, there were no more signs of teenage angst or sparkly vampires, and I was able to get back to enjoying the beautiful scenery under now sunny skies. Upon arriving back at our lodge, we decided to spend the rest of the day just sitting on the beach watching the waves, and put off any site seeing for later. We grabbed our camp chairs, a couple of books and sweatshirts (the high today was 62 degrees, and it was windy), and headed down to the ocean. We set up our chairs, kicked off our shoes, and I was all prepared for several hours of relaxed reading, when Libby sprung her final surprise of the day on me. She’d picked up a paperback copy of Twilight just for me at the gift shop, so I too could join in the mania. Deciding that resistance was at last futile, I gave in, cringing only momentarily at the cover (ask me about the quote on it sometime), and spent the rest of the day reading about vampires.

Sittin on the dock of bay,

Blood sucking Steven and Team Jacob Libby

Travel question of the day: Are you Team Edward or Team Jacob?

The day started very early as we met with our guide in North Bend to equip for our rock climb. We drove to Little Si and hiked part of the trail to a rock face. Our guide is originally from Switzerland and spends part of the year in Washington running his store and guiding trips to Rainier and Baker and part of the year in Switzerland leading trips up Matterhorn, Mont Blanc and Eiger. Steven soaked up every detail of this man’s conversation while privately making plans for us to join him at Mount Baker next year and in Switzerland for an epic adventure in two years. The instructor taught us the basic knot ties, harness information and how to belay. He then scurried up the rock face in a spider-man style motion to establish the top rope. Before we knew it he was back down the rock and continued his conversation. He was more than thrilled when he found out that we are newly weds and stated that he thinks the trust involved in rock climbing to be a perfect metaphor for the trust involved in marriage. The fact that I would be holding the rope that kept Steven safe on the rock was beautifully poetic to this mountain man. I think for Steven it was a bit terrifying. Steven was the first one up the 40 foot face. I was very proud of him. Rock climbing is awkward. You have to trust that the rope will catch you, that your feet can hold on the rock, and that your hands can cling to the tiniest bumps in the rock. Once you realize to trust your partner and the rope you can focus on the rock and your path up it. Steven and I are both terrified of heights so the most rewarding part of the climb is reaching the top and being able to look down and around. Once you have reached the top you realize that you are safe and it is a definite adrenaline rush. We managed three different climbs with the middle climb being the most difficult and the last climb being the tallest at nearly 80 feet. By the end of the climbs we were sore and worn out. Our guide Martin was excellent. A well seasoned pro, he didn’t have any of the cockiness that his skill would allow him to have. He was encouraging and made one feel successful even while splayed against the rock with legs and arms jetting out in different angles quivering. More impressive, he could swarm up the face in seconds to where you were stuck, and give you tips on foot placement and “smearing” (using the flats of your feet to grip the rock where there are no holds) all while clinging rope-less to a spot you would swear there was no purchase to be had. On the hike back he and Steven talked about “football” (soccer), cycling, and of course mountaineering equipment. Steven was ecstatic to learn that the shop was having a sale that very day, as several equipment representatives had given our guide their demo models to try.

Steven belaying down the face

Libby at the top of the smaller face

While driving back into North Bend Steven began second guessing his career as a software engineer, and idly wondering about the qualifications for becoming a mountain guide. I dutifully listened while he basked in his dream. Once in the store I quickly realized that Steven had forgotten about the excel spreadsheet that he had created to calculate our budget and every expense as he drooled over top of the line carbon poled tents. Meanwhile, I eyed a used pair of hiking boots that were $30 and happened to be my size. They turned out to be very high end boots, and Martin was excited to sell them, seeing as they belonged to his daughter who grew very quickly and hardly wore them. With my feet now safe for the rest of the trip, I walked over to find Steven just as Martin suggested that they go out to the sidewalk to assemble the tent. While I admit it was quite a deal on the tent and very impressive looking, a tent designed for hurricane winds weighing a mere two pounds might be a tad overkill for the forests of Indiana. I also realized that with his love of high tech gear and his lingering dream of being a mountain guide, Steven might walk out of the store with that tent. It was at that point that I had to be the voice of reason, pull him out of the store and put a slight dent in his dream. I did assure him however that he is a brilliant software developer. We went back in the store to thank Martin and tip him for the wonderful climbing lesson. With a slightly deflated ego I took Steven to the local bar for a burger and homemade potato chips.

The town of North Bend has a mountain charm to it. After discovering the Twin Peaks was filmed in North Bend and Snoqualimie I have an unusual desire to watch it even though I have never previously heard of it. While there we also found ourselves in the middle of a neat tradition: the town was shutting itself down in preparation for a block party. All the streets were closed off, the shops were all putting up sidewalk displays, and bands were gearing up for what looked like a great party. Unfortunately, we had to turn down our guide’s invitation to stick around, as we had a reservation to keep four hours away.

We had an epic drive to the Olympic National Forest for our stay at the Kalaloch Lodge. The Lodge offers both cabins and rooms, both of which have beautiful views of the ocean. We decided to stay in the lodge itself, however, after reading about one couple’s experience with racoons while staying in the lodge’s cabins. The lodge has the smell of a summer camp cabin and dining hall. It is rustic but perfect in it’s simplicity especially considering that it is perched overlooking the ocean. The only problem Steven has is that not only is there no cell phone service, there is no internet either.

Out in the middle of nowhere,

Ocean-side Libby and Software specialist Steven

Travel question of the day: Where does the word honeymoon come from? And why did our travel agent mention that we’re on ours to every place we stay? Awkward. Currently there’s a heart shaped caramel brownie on my night stand.

View of Mt. Rainier from Mt. Si

Today was the day to climb Mount Si. All week we’d seen the mountain in the distance from our hotel and the surrounding area, and climbing its baby brother Little Si earlier in the week had convinced us we needed to climb Big Si as well. At 4,000 feet, it was more than twice the height of its neighbor. We got a slightly later start than we had planned, but we scarfed down a breakfast of granola bars and were on the trail by 10:00 AM. We were worried about getting a late start, so we started off at hard pace. The trail was a steady uphill climb, with an average grade of nearly 17% over the climb (often steeper, with no flat portions at all). This, combined with our somewhat overloaded pack, made for a difficult hike. Steven was of course very excited about his new boots, although it took him a little bit of time to get used to their extra weight as he kept stubbing his toes on roots. I was less excited about my choice to just grab a random pair of socks before we left. I ended up with a pair of thin cotton socks, and before long my entire heel was covered in a huge blister. We continued on up the hill, still moving quickly (Steven had now discovered the elevation feature of his watch, so I now got regular updates on both height and distance). Along the way we passed a lot of people; the trail was a very popular one despite its difficulty. Finally, after nearly an hour and a half of constantly grinding upwards, we came through the trees onto the summit basin. The feeling upon reaching the top was incredible – it was cool, brilliantly sunny, and we could see for miles and miles. We scampered around up top for about 45 minutes like little kids with goofy grins, taking picture after picture and just enjoying the scenery as the occasional small cloud washed over the peak.

Note the goofy Camera carrying setup. No, he didn't hike with it like that.

Finally, we decided we should head back down or we’d miss our plans for dinner, and we began the 4 mile trek back down the mountain. We made good time and soon we were back in the car, driving through the nearby town of North Bend on our way back to the hotel. We were way ahead of schedule though, so on a whim we decided to stop at the small mountaineering shop on Main street that we’d noticed that morning on the way to the mountain. That was when I realized I may have made a slight miscalculation – the shop was full of high end mountaineering and backpacking gear, despite its small size, and Steven was in heaven. I had to act fast in order to escape with our budget intact. The reason we’d actually stopped was because I had mentioned it might be fun to take some rock climbing lessons earlier in the trip, and Steven had noticed a sign for mountain guiding in their window. We didn’t think we’d be able to actually get any lessons in; after all, we only had the next morning before we had to leave for the Olympic Peninsula, but we thought it might be fun to check I quickly asked the man behind the counter if they offered rock climbing lessons, and to my surprise, he said they did. He said they could arrange some time to take us out, but we had to turn him down, saying that we had to leave tomorrow afternoon. He looked somewhat surprised, and said “Oh, you mean like now? I guess I could – the shop isn’t that busy this afternoon.” We once again had to demur, due to our dinner plans. The only time we really could do it would be the next day in the morning, which was asking a bit much. But then, a thin middle-aged man who was working on a piece of gear nearby stood up and said “Tomorrow morning? I could do that. You guys want to do a half day right?”. At this point we were a little shocked, and Steven looked a bit reluctant as if things were moving too fast. Before he could say anything I agreed to the lessons and filled out the paperwork. As I was signing the waiver form that warned us of all the potential death, dismemberment, and general mayhem that the shop wasn’t liable for, the guy working the cash register quietly said “Wow, you guys are really lucky. That’s the owner of the shop that’s taking you out”.

After agreeing to meet the next morning at 7:45 AM at the shop, we headed back to our hotel to shower and change for our evening plans: dinner at Tillicum Village. Tillicum Village is a harbor cruise, dinner and Native American show all wrapped up into one that Steven had gone on when he was a kid visiting with his family, so we decided to give it a try. The cruise itself was beautiful, as we took an hour long scenic route around the harbor to see everything (we took photo after photo of Mount Rainier – apparently its only visible from Seattle about a fifth of the year). The guide announcing everything was less interesting; I once again found myself zoning out, especially after the poor guy dressed up in Indian blankets got up to talk about the Native American heritage. He obviously hadn’t done the tour speech much before, and there were more than a few awkward pauses (my favorite: “Yeah, so I’m Native American as well, and its really neat to do all this stuff with our heritage. Well, not my heritage. I’m Nez Perce, from Idaho.”) Once at the island, we were greeted with cups of steamed clams, which we ate and then dropped the shells on the crushed shell path. We then went inside and had a buffet dinner with traditionally prepared baked salmon, and watched the dance show recreating Northwestern tribal dances. I think it was at some point during the dance that I began to realize the show and

Libby learning to skip rocks

village was a reenactment, and not put on by actual Native Americans. It might have been the fact that many of the dancers had blond hair, blue eyes, and completely white skin. I was somewhat miffed to discover that it wasn’t completely authentic, and that the long house we were in was built for the Seattle World Fair, not by Indians toiling for their chief. We still had a great time though, and after wards skipped rocks on the beach and then enjoyed a beautiful nighttime boat ride across the sound back to Seattle. We made it back to the hotel late that night and packed our bags since we would be checking out of our hotel early the next morning before our rock climbing lesson.

Until tomorrow,

Libby of the made up Ibilibbish Tribe and Boot Happy Steven

Traveling question of the day: What happens when you do not eat all day, climb a mountain and end up at a buffet?

We decided to answer our own question: see below.

After all of the hiking, driving, and general mayhem of the previous several days, we decided that Day 4 was going to be a slightly more relaxing day for us. It is, after all, our honeymoon. To start things off, we traveled back to Seattle to look for the perfect spot to eat breakfast. Libby scanned through the list of restaurants on the Garmin looking for a cute sounding name, while I looked out the window for a cute looking cafe on our route. Unfortunately, we took too long searching, and ended up with the perfect lunch spot instead. We had a delicious meal anyway, and then decided to head back to REI to pick up a pair of backpacking boots for me to use. The experiences on Mount Rainier the previous day had given us an incentive to climb (big) Mount Si, and we wanted to have the perfect equipment. Besides, I needed a pair of boots anyway, and would you look at that, we get 10% off all purchases from our own wedding registry! I spent my usual hour or so examining all my options, analyzing the differences, trying the boots on, re-analyzing the differences, comparing the price, and starting to analyze the differences yet again, until Libby finally grabbed a pair and said “We’ll take them”. Meanwhile, Libby was tempted by a pair of flashy red trail running shoes herself, but she exhibited excellent self control and decided that she couldn’t really justify them given that she already had two pairs of top-of-the-line boots. That those boots were back in Fort Wayne was a separate issue, but she decided she could make due with her running shoes for Mount Si.

Once the purchases at REI were complete (other items picked up included a headlamp in case we decided to do some early morning or evening hiking, and a small trowel and portable pack of toilet paper in case the trail went on just a little too long), we left Seattle and headed north towards the wine country of Woodinille. Several wineries make their home there, and we decided to stop and take a tour of one of the largest, Chateau Ste. Michelle Winery. I found the tour to be extremely interesting, as our guide explained the differences between the various wines and grapes, how the different wines are made, and the history of wine making in the area. Meanwhile, Libby found the tour to be extremely boring, as the guide explained the tedious details about wines and grapes, how the wines are made, and the very dry history of the area. It turns out that while I know nothing of wine, Libby knows nothing about paying attention to tour guides. She perked up later, however, when the guide mentioned the wine tasting at the end of the tour. There, she was able to school me on pretending to be snooty during a tasting, as she enjoyed dropping adjectives like “floral”, “hints of berry”, “apricot finish”, and “oak-aged amber” in an aristocratic, British voice.

Once the tour was done, we explored the grounds of the winery a bit, enjoying the beautiful weather. We were a little disappointed to find that there were no fields of grapes to look at, as the grapes are actually grown in the eastern Washington desert, but we quickly moved on and headed back to our Lodge. Upon arriving there, Libby immediately turned in for her usual nap, while I headed out for my first run with the Garmin wrist watch (geeky data galore!). We then decided it was time to go in search of dinner, and stumbled across a small Italian restaurant only a couple of minutes from our hotel, complete with large, jolly Italian owner. We spent the rest of the evening there, enjoying the delicious food and reflection on our travels.

Signing off,

Ravioli Stuffed Lib and Wine Expert Steven

Travel question of the day: Which is better a good cup of coffee or a good glass of wine?