Sailing in Seattle.
There's a good reason why Washington is nicknamed the Evergreen State. It truly is forever green and gorgeous and unfortunately while I was there, was blanketed in smoke. Wildfires in Canada and a good gust or two from Mother Nature pushed the smoke towards Washington which made it so that my time spent in Olympic National Park and Seattle was permanently overcast. This just meant that the horizon faded away like it was never supposed to be there at all, camping on Washington's coast was a little more eerie than usual and Mt. Rainier, which is supposed to be in Seattle's skyline, went missing. Oh well, I still loved every new adventure Washington had to offer.
Olympic National Park in the Northwest corner of the state is humongous and encompasses three different climates. It is definitely larger than Thatcher and I thought it would be and we ended up seeing the temperate rainforest the most. We strolled through the easy hikes and pathways among the ferns and moss covered old growths admiring how they dripped from one branch to another like a Dali painting. The temperate rainforest's vivid color engulfed us making even the air seem green. Coming from that climate it was quite a surprise to see the park's coast; a complete 180 degrees really. After getting a backcountry camping permit from the visitors center for the bleak but beautiful coast, we headed in that direction our second night at Olympic National Park. On the way we stopped by Forks, Washington in search of wifi and some food. If you are a twilight fan - insert excitement here - I am not. Blackberry cobbler was our food of choice at the local coffee shop/diner, and, unknown to us, is also what we'd come to learn is the slice of choice for Stephanie Myers, the author of Twilight. We learned this fun fact while scarfing down our second piece, and the restaurant's last piece, of pie mistakenly given to us by the scatterbrained waitress. Who are we to turn down free pie? That same piece that was intended to be for the Twilight fans in the booth next to us was devoured in a matter of minutes as we laughed our way through it and ran out of there as fast as possible, worried the waitress would realize her mistake. Full and satisfied, we headed to the coast. The beach was covered in small, round black stones and sand and driftwood of all shapes and sizes lined the shore. The downed trees were ghostly and massive and looked like they had been laid to rest ages ago right where they remain today. They were scattered about fifty feet from where the waters edge when we arrived and set up a natural barricade for the tents, the ground behind them significantly higher than the sand in front. Thatcher and I found spot yet to be claimed about a mile and change up the beach and it was there that we set up my favorite campsite yet. It looked like something out of a movie or Game of Thrones with the grey sky and giant sea cliffs jutting out of the beach in front of us, the driftwood blocking us in and making a natural fort among the stones and black sand. We walked along the rocks in the water while the tide was low discovering green anemone and mussels before heading back to camp and collecting driftwood to burn. We had done a little bit of research and knew the tide would be at its peak at 11pm. We couldn't wait to see how high it would rise. Killing time with card games and stories, we sat on the driftwood protecting us from the impending tide and watched it roll in, right up to the edge of our seat.
One thing I really wanted to do while up in that corner of the state was to see Cape Flattery, the most Northwest place in the 48 states. The half mile walk out to the sea cave riddled point was decorated with topsy turvy pathways. Whoever made them definitely had a fun sense of imagination with their crooked boards and tapered beams. The light shone through the trees from the open seas to the west as we arrived at a platform that opened out to the blue expanse, smoke creeping in still. The cliffs jut out along the point and shot out of the water, the tide moving in and out of the caves below slowly eroding what will one day no longer remain. The sound of sea lions echoed in the distance and we decided to escape from the crowd forming for sunset to another cliff along Cape Flattery just out of reach of the main trail. We stepped lightly on the soft, mossy ground and came out to another cliff that looked at the one we had come from before and just, sat. There was nothing to say, really. The sun still shone through the smoke and its bright orange rays hit everything we touched, their reflections and warm in the sunlight. It was a perfect moment of silence spent looking out onto a world I have yet to see.
Seattle was our next stop and where Thatcher and I parted ways. Don't worry, nothing bad happened, this was always the plan. Home of the space needle and former home of the Supersonics, I was very excited to see what Seattle had to offer. We started our first day there by wandering around the city a bit. We stumbled upon the gum wall, a disgusting and sort of cool alleyway under Pike Place Market and a random find I'm not sure I'd recommend. People seem to have been working on this masterpiece for years, gum dripping from the pipes and bricks covered in colorful germs. Pike Place Market was definitely on my list of things to do there, as I'm sure you already know if you've heard anything about Seattle or plan on visiting. Maria and Carlos, friends of Thatcher's, went with us for an early lunch as we braved the crowds for free salmon samples and some of the freshest seafood I've had in a long time. Crabs and lobster tails bigger than my head were shoved in ice in front of stands, fish of every color and size packed into the rest. The prices high and the quality even higher, just by looking I could already tell they would be worth every penny.
From visiting friends to climbing up and over a questionable fence in search of the base of Snoqualmie Falls, we packed a lot into those few days. One of my favorites was the easy mile hike to find snow caves. Maria is one of Thatcher's close friends from college and up until Seattle I had only ever heard of her, so meeting her was a real treat. A small bundle of joy, attitude included, she definitely is always up for an adventure and a good hike. So, when she recommended the three of us check out the snow caves I was not about to say no. Purple flowers covered the trail on our way to the caves and opened up to a mountain with snow covered sides. Deep tunnels of melting ice and archways sculpted by hidden waterfalls were all along the mountain's base. Stepping into the entryway of the first cave, the frigid air hit us and was a sweet relief from the hot day and hike. Little chunks of the edge of the frail ice wall broke off as we explored their concave cutouts that looked like someone took a large ice cream scooper to them. They dripped and soaked us in fresh water. The light at the end of the tunnel in the third cave literally beckoned us forward to see the waterfall pouring from the mountain above up close. Thatcher and I stood at the entrance and hesitated then looked at each other knowing exactly what was about to happen and without saying a word, we took off. Cautiously but confidently running through the tunnel towards the opening on the other side we brushed aside our fear that the walls would melt completely or cave in if only for a moment for a bit more adventure.
One of my favorite things we've done together on this trip was in Seattle. Sunday Public Sail is something everyone should do here, even people who live there. In search of something free and unique to this wonderful new city, we discovered that every Sunday morning the Center for Wooden Boats on Lake Union in downtown Seattle hosts a free sail for the first, I'm guessing here, two hundred people. After waiting for an hour for the center to open at 10am we had our choice of eight boats with multiple sail times throughout the day. Every kind of wooden boat was available for our choosing; motor boats, steam boats, row boats. A gaff-rigged schooner from 1926 and a spirit-rigged sailing gillnetter from 1900 originally built for salmon fishing were just two of the sailboats we could choose from. Being twentieth in line we knew we'd have options and we decided to go with the Puffin, a steam launch big enough for four passengers powered by a wood burning oven. Sounds awesome, doesn't it? I'm so happy we chose this boat. Sure, the sailboats are big, beautiful and impressive, but the experience of being on a steam boat over 100 years old is once in a lifetime. The small vessel was pristine and the black and white checkerboard floor was cut neatly around the oven in the center of the boat. The hour long tour of Lake Union gave Thatcher and I a view of Seattle we would have otherwise missed. Choosing to sit in the bow for a chance to blow the steam whistle, we learned how the oven works, what kind of wood is ideal, and the temperature at which the oven must remain for optimal cruising. We coasted along the floating homes and house boats lining the lake, their colorful designs, cute porches, and beautiful gardens made me wish I could go inside of them and take a tour. Waving to paddle boarders, kayakers, and other boats, we made our way around Lake Union, a smile permanently on my face, sea planes taking off and landing all around us.
Special shoutout to Devin and Rowan for having me! All that talk of visiting you and those adorable bulldogs in Seattle finally became a reality and it was just as great as I knew it would be.
Thatcher has decided to stay in Seattle with Maria and Carlos a bit longer, hike the enchantments, and catch the eclipse before heading back to Philly. I am on my own once again and while it'll be tricky to get back into the swing of things, I wouldn't have traded that time for anything. I have learned a lot from Thatcher. He taught me how to camp, how to not freak out at the little things, what makes a perfect burrito, and most importantly, reminded me that I will always have him to lean on.
- G.
The Photo:
The Puffin on Lake Union.
Seattle, Washington.
8/6/17.
