9/17/12 -- Around the Olympic Peninsula, North Side

We left Port Townsend in a leisurely fashion.  It is amazing to be so free, not have to be anywhere at any time.  We visited with a couple that had a Sunlite pop-up truck camper.  It’s always fun to compare rigs.

Our first goal on Saturday was an all-time favorite place – The Three Crabs restaurant at Dungeness, just north of Sequim.  I was first introduced to this place in the 60’s.  You can order a half a Dungeness crab that will cover a good-sized platter.  They serve you the crab, a bib and a pliers to crack it open.  It’s a great experience.

Picture Banner from the Restaurant's Ad

Awards for this famous restaurant include:

• 1988 Best Restaurant in Western Washington (outside Seattle area) -- Pacific Northwest Magazine Reader's Poll Awards
• 1988 Best Seafood Restaurant In Western Washington (outside Seattle area) -- Pacific Northwest Magazine Reader's Poll Awards
• 1989 Best Restaurant in Western Washington (outside Seattle area) -- Pacific Northwest Magazine Reader's Poll Awards
• 1989 Best Seafood Restaurant In Western Washington (outside Seattle area) -- Pacific Northwest Magazine Reader's Poll Awards
• 1990 Pacific Northwest Magazine Reader's Poll Awards
• 1991 Pacific Northwest Magazine Reader's Poll Awards
• 1999 Best Seafood Award --Sequim Gazette's Best Food Service Awards for East Clallam County
• 2003 USA Today - One of the "ten great places to eat seafood by seashore".

We drove up and the old place looked different.  Something was very wrong.  The famous three crabs were missing from the sign.  We talked to a woman who knew the owner and learned that they had closed the restaurant two weeks before we got there.  The owner decided to quit after 30 years in business.  I guess I can’t blame her for that, but our taste buds were set for crab and that didn’t happen.

Dungeness is a large bay on the Strait of Juan de Fuca.  Juan was a member of Captain Vancouver’s ship when they explored this part of the Pacific coast.  Of course, the native people had discovered the area long before but Captain Vancouver was the first white guy so he got the credit for the discovery and he got to re-name all the points of interest.

The Strait of Juan de Fuca stretches from the Pacific Ocean to two bodies of water.  To the south, Puget Sound creates an inland sea (of salt water) that reaches nearly half-way down WA state.  To the north, the inland passage is bounded on one side by British Columbia, Canada and on the other side by the Queen Charlotte Islands.  It is a favorite route for cruise ships bound for Alaska.

Waves roll across the Pacific Ocean from Japan with nothing to slow them down all down the Strait.  About 25 miles west of Port Townsend, Dungeness Spit curves out into the Strait.  It is a stretch of sand and rocks five miles long.  The lighthouse on the end was operated by the Coast Guard until a few years ago when it was decommissioned.  Now Dungeness Spit and the area at its land connection are a National Wildlife Refuge. 



Dungeness Spit and the old pier
a tiny dot in the distance on the right is the light house

Seeing the cove of Dungeness Spit reminds me of an experience I had there over 22 years ago.  A friend and I took our rubber ducky – our yellow 3-person blow-up raft – out into the Dungeness Cove for a ride.  We had thought to row out the 5 miles to the lighthouse.  We never made it that far.

Some ocean waters are home to seals.  Pacific Northwest waters house sea lions instead.  Usually, these creatures don’t pay much attention to the humans that float on top of their watery universe. 

sea lion in water (public domain)

That day, my friend and I met a sea lion that noticed us.  We never saw a pup but we figured later that our sea lion must have had one.  She bobbed up about 10 feet off our port bow, her round brown and tan spotted head and her huge eyes followed our every move.

Carefully, so as to not impinge on her territory, we rowed away from her.  In a flash, she bobbed up on that side, right in front of us.  We tried, once again, to row away from her.  She blocked us again.  We decided this was getting a little dicey so turned to row for shore.  Up she bobbed again. 

No matter what direction we tried to row, she wasn’t having any of it. 

Finally, we beached the raft on a sand bar, dragged it across the bar and took off from the other side.  That must have satisfied her because she left us alone after that.  As I looked out over Dungeness Bay, I remembered that day.  To my amazement, the sand bar was still there, covered with shells and bird, um, leavings.

The sand bar that saved me

We stayed Saturday night at the campground next to the wildlife refuge.  We couldn’t park the truck/trailer rig at the trail head down to the spit so hiked the ¼ mile on a level path through a cedar forest. 

At the trail head, we found the trail for horses.  On that day, it was closed to horses but, since neither of us neighs, we took the trail.  It was level and wound on down the large bluff very gently.  It was a beautiful hike through a forest that was quite wild.  Only the path showed any sign of human activity.  We didn’t see any animals on the hike, but birds were everywhere.

We never made it to the Spit.  It was too far for me and we had to come home.  Even so, we figured that we hiked about a mile and a half.  Not bad!

Our campsite at Dungeness was surrounded by a hedge full of wild rose bushes.  These bushes were taller than Adina’s head.  Of course, at this time of year, the roses were long past blooming.  Large rose hips covered the bushes.  Even the fern that grew at the rear of the campsite was taller than Adina, making our campsite very private.  The wind blew off the Straits making our campsite too cold even for a fire.  We stayed in our trailer with our flower-pot furnace heating us up and we played Scrabble.

Sunday, we drove through Port Angeles without stopping.  When Adina and I first met, we both went to Port Angeles shortly after our first date.  Adina came for a week of sewing.  I brought a tour group of a dozen seniors.  The youngest was well over 80 years old.

Port Angeles was a fairly small town in those days.  One highway runs through town, well marked with signs.  Both Adina and I had been there separately and driven through it many times.  Back then, though, right after our first date, we both got lost in Port Angeles, not an easy thing to do even today.  I guess we were pretty distracted by thoughts of each other. 

So Sunday, we drove through Port Angeles to our chosen campground and we didn’t get lost.  Instead of staying on Hwy 101, we took a less-traveled way and hugged the coast on Hwy 112.  We stopped at the thriving metropolis of Joyce.

When I first saw Joyce in the 60’s, it consisted of one general store and a gas pump.  That’s it.  However, they sold sweatshirts emblazoned with “University of Joyce.”  Of course, no such institution existed then or now.  In small letters, the sweatshirts read “Mea Culpa Non” – It’s not my fault.  I loved the serendipity of it, bought a sweatshirt and wore it for years until it went the way of all old garments.

Joyce General Store (public domain photo)

This general store isn't very big, but they have used every square inch of space.  You can find just about anything you need at the Joyce General Store.  They have hardware, boating supplies, camping stuff, food of all kinds, stationery, souvenirs, picnic supplies, DVD and VCR movies.  If I listed everything, this blog would be way too long.

I had hoped to buy a replacement for my old University of Joyce sweatshirt but they didn’t have any in my size, neither sweatshirt or tee-shirt.  Alas.  I did find a really warm wool hat lined with fleece and some socks knit from an alpaca’s pelt, so it wasn’t a wasted stop. 

singing waters flow
I only wish I knew the words
then I'd join the song

Our new campsite is at Lyre River.  The Native People call this river “singing waters.”  It’s a good name.  This river really does make music as it ripples past the camp.

Lyre River is another DNR (Department of Natural Resources) campground so there is no charge except for the annual pass we bought.  There are only six campsites in the whole camp all located on the river.  The road isn’t a loop as it is in many campgrounds. 

Three short roads radiate off the gravel road that leads to the camp.  This made parking our rig a bit of a challenge.  I backed past two other campsites to reach ours.  Our little road only has 3 campsites on it.  Our spot is right on the river. 

Early morning sun dusts our campsite

Many floods have brought down trees and subsequent spring floods have scoured the trunks and branches.  The years have laid down moss and now many of these trees have plants and small trees growing on them.

Lyre River log jam

We are surrounded by a mixed forest of immense cedar and maple trees.  The cedar tree in our campsite is over two feet in diameter.  We went on a short hike through the forest along the river. 

Giant maples and cedar trees, wider than I can reach around, lined the trail.  Their roots alone were immense.  We climbed over these roots, many of which stood taller than I am.  These roots were hard to photograph because of how dense the forest is.  

This tree, as big as many in the forest, grew in camp on a little handicapped accessible boardwalk that ran along the river. 

We climbed over roots as tall as this on our hike on the path at the back of our campsite

The original tree was probably cut in the early days of logging.  Three other trees grew from the stump and the earth beside it. 

Moss grew on the branches as the trees reached out over the water.  One maple tree had moss on its branches that was at least a foot thick.  Ferns and small trees grew on the living branches of the trees.

Although many of the places we have visited are short on rain, and this area is no exception, still, this area gets more rain than most places we have been.  The forest is lush and healthy.

You may remember that the day we left Beckler River, the air was too hazy to take good pictures.  We figured that we were seeing smoke from the Wenatchee and Lake Chelan fires, although we didn't smell it in the air.

We didn't know the half of it.

I talked with the DNR Ranger this morning.  At this morning's count, 240 fires rage across eastern WA.  Some are "small" -- less than 20,000 acres.  Others top 50,000 acres.  Some have spread so much than they are merging into giant fires.  They are fighting some of them, but there are too many fires and too few to fight them.  Some will burn until the rains come.

Firefighters have come to fight these fires from Canada, Oregon and California.  There are few forest fire fighters left in western WA.  They are telling the public to stay indoors and not come outside unless you have to because the air quality is so bad from the fires.  The Ranger said that this situation exists from Spokane to Wenatchee.

We pray for those who are fighting fires and for those who are endangered by them.  We pray for the thousands of animals that will perish in their path.  We pray for the forests, the beautiful forests. 

We feel as if we have been staying just ahead of the fires all across the country.  For our own safety, we thank those who are praying for us on our trip.  Even as I say that, I send a prayer for those who live east of the mountains.

Last night, we had a campfire, roasted hot dogs and Adina fixed butternut squash soup with onions and mushrooms in it.  Yum! 

This morning, we lazed about and took it easy.  This afternoon, we drove south from Joyce across a low mountain ridge.  The road was so narrow as to be one-way part of the way.  Of course, no one had bothered to put up guard rails.  It was paved, about the width of a driveway.  It was so much fun to drive!

We drove alone the north side of Lake Crescent, another of the most beautiful places in WA.  It is a deep lake, its waters blue-black.  Mountains surround it.  Most of the lake is located in the Olympic National Forest.  Its beauty makes my heart ache with the pleasure of it.

Looking south across Lake Crescent

Looking east from this point is just as beautiful. 


Rippling waters and Mountains -- Crescent Lake

Now I am sitting and writing this blot at the quaint Crescent Lake Lodge.  I am surrounded by dark wood.  An elk's head is mounted on the immense stone fireplace.  Sconces are made of twisted birch old-style snowshoes.  Paddles from a Native racing canoe, painted with traditional Native designs, have been mounted above the gift shop entrance (every lodge and inn has a gift shop).  This is the view i have from the sun porch where my little table is sitting.

The trees that cover the mountains are like green velvet

Adina has spent the afternoon sitting in the sun.  It's warm and people are swimming.  Although this inn is in the National Park, it is run by a private enterprise.  The cheapest room, even now in the off-season -- is $115.00.  I guess that's okay for today's prices but it's out of my league.  I'm thankful for a lovely afternoon here. 

We plan to stay at our campground for several days.  We have a couple of day trips we want to take and plan at least one day in camp so Adina can bake a pear upside-down cake (in the campfire, of course). 

What will we do tomorrow?  Who knows?  I'll blog again in a few days and let you know of our adventures.

Good to have you all aboard!