Day 10 - 06/11/2008

I woke up and started getting ready for the day. I was taking everything with me just in case I stayed the night at Craig’s brother’s place. Also, since I only had a general idea of the day’s plans, I wanted to have everything available just in case. Craig had told me to meet him and Kristin, a friend of his also on the road trip, around 10 a.m. (we are all on vacation) up in Burlington. So I had a little time in the morning to have breakfast and discuss routes with Uncle Dan. I had no idea, though, how glad I would be that I did not force myself to go out and run that morning.

I had no trouble finding the apartment complex in Burlington. Scott, Craig’s brother, was at work, but I did meet his wife Amy that morning. Scott has a summer internship up here in Washington, but they both love it up here and may move after he finishes his last year of school back in California.

As I was grabbing stuff from my car and putting it in Kristin’s, I asked Craig how long he thought we’d be in the car. When he said five hours, I said, “Okay. I’m bringing my knitting.” They both got a kick out of that. I knew I wouldn’t want to type the whole day, so I figured I’d better have something else planned.

So Craig, Kristin and I set out in Kristin’s 2003 Honda Civic (I don’t know what its name is; I forgot to ask). Our first task was to find internet access somewhere to find out how exactly to get to Olympic National Park (ferry schedules, highways, etc.). Craig tried to find somewhere free, but ended up going to Kinko’s. Since we were fast, it was less than a dollar.

We made another stop at the Post Office for Craig to mail someone’s ID to them. I never got that full story, but this stop was significant because with Craig inside, I had Kristin turn the bass down on her car stereo. Since I was in the back seat, I knew I’d lose my hearing with Craig manning the radio. This way I’d be better able to tolerate the higher volumes.

Driving west on highway 20, we aimed for the Ferry to transport us from Keystone to Port Townsend. We talked for awhile about our respective trips up here. I took my time, but they drove it straight. They had left at 8 a.m. this Monday morning and arrived at 2 a.m. on Tuesday. They made no stops other than as necessary for gas.

Craig noticed a European Subaru on the road. At first I couldn’t tell what he was talking about because I saw a Washington license plate. But looking inside the car, I saw that there was only one person in the car, and she was sitting on the right side driving. We got a few pictures of her, but you have to know what you’re looking at to notice she’s on the other side of the car. We also encountered a red pick-up towing a classic car, an olive green Barracuda. I had never heard of this model before, and even Craig was fascinated by it.

Before we left my car, I asked if I should bring some food for us for the day. Craig said they had us covered with snacks and lunch, so I left my stuff behind except for a Gatorade. This trip did something else for me: it gave me a reason to start shopping at WinCo. They had gone there and purchased a very healthy and delicious snack. They had a bag of soy nuts and a bag of dried raspberries (WinCo has self-serve dispensers of these and many other items). Craig had me put out my hand, and dumped a bit of each into my palm, and instructed me to mix and eat. WOW! That was the perfect sweet & salty, soft & crunchy, protein-filled snack.

We finally arrived at the ferry, and a rather disgruntled woman asked us if we had reservations. We didn’t, and asked about the likelihood of getting on. She said our odds were good, and we pulled into lane 5 as directed. Getting out, we stretched and took some pictures of the view as we waited. The ferry arrived about 30 minutes later, and we did get on. After parking we got out of the car, made some sandwiches out of the food in the cooler they had in the trunk, and made our way up top to enjoy the ride. The ferry rocked side to side a fair amount, and you felt it more the higher up you went on the ferry. None of us were getting sick, but we had a hard time not weaving as we walked.

Because of the cold, I borrowed a sweatshirt from Craig. It has been really strange to look over some of my pictures and see myself wearing clothes I am not long familiar with. I borrowed a red University of Nebraska sweatshirt from Leroy in Tacoma, and now a black one (representing some surf shop) from Craig.

After getting across, we then had to drive to the park. I had scribbled down directions from the Google Map we quickly accessed at Kinko’s, and combined with my AAA map and Tourbook, we eventually found our way to an entrance. I had thought Craig had an all-parks annual pass, but it turns out that his is only for Yosemite. We considered paying the $15 for the 7-day pass that we would only use for about three hours, but then decided to try a path that was running off to the right just ten feet before the park entrance.

Driving less than half a mile, we arrived at a trailhead rest stop. The sign said Lake Angeles was 3.7 miles away. That seemed doable for us, so we grabbed some waters and headed out. We would later learn that we were hiking up Mt. Angeles, which has an elevation of 6,454 feet.
Stepping onto the trail was like entering Narnia. The sun wasn’t shining through the clouds, and so there was just a continuous white glow filtering through the dense trees. All the foliage was lush with growth, and moss covered everything not moving. The humidity was dense, but not uncomfortable for how cold it was. As we climbed higher, we were walking through the mist of the clouds.

We hiked briskly at first, stopping frequently to take pictures in the many landscapes we were offered. Kristin has an Olympus camera too (albeit a nicer model than mine), but she and Craig taught me a few new techniques to enhance my pictures. Craig climbed out on a few fallen trees that were stretched above the trail or across the valley below us. He said one was very wobbly, and we later saw that the end of it rested in the air—it was not secured to anything. Craig is a daredevil, growing up as a missionary kid in Indonesia. With all the accidents he’s had in his youth, it’s a miracle he’s not dead. I wonder sometimes why I hang out with him, but then remember that all of our times together are an adventure.

We continued climbing. The trail was well maintained, with only small rocks and roots to watch out for, as the moisture makes them wet and slippery. It wasn’t long before we ditched the sweatshirts and waters behind a tree for retrieval on the way back down. With the moisture in the air, we didn’t think dehydration would be an issue.

We aren’t sure exactly how long we climbed because we don’t recall the time we started (we guessed 3 p.m.), but we were surprised not to have made it to the lake by 5 p.m. Even with our stops, we kept a brisk pace, and should have made it in two hours if we were averaging 2 mph. We were disappointed not to make it to the lake, but we were getting tired and needed to save our strength for the trip back down. We also had to consider the ferry schedule. We were going to miss the 6:45 one, and had to make sure to catch the last one of the night at 8:30, provided it wasn’t full. If it was, we’d have to sleep in the car tonight, or drive the long way back around to get back to Burlington.

So we began our descent. Walking downhill is not as easy as it would appear, especially when the ground is slippery due to rocks, roots, and mud. On the way up, I had slipped and fallen into a push-up position to prevent a full face-plant into the ground. Somehow Craig got it in his head to try running down the mountain. And I was desirous enough of exiting to agree to the notion, and thank goodness I did! We spread out, and Craig and Kristin alternated being in front, calling out the potential dangers in the trail. They are both in much better space than I, but I kept pace with them. I did have troubling braking once, but Craig saw me coming, and we locked palms in a high-five position for him to drag me to a stop. We would run for stretch, and then walk for a short period through some of the rougher parts of the trail before running again. We ran most of the way, and were out in 45 minutes.

Arriving back at the car, Craig made sure we stretched. He’s a personal trainer, so I was glad to have his expertise along for the trip. He probably saved me from a twisted ankle with his tutelage. We gobbled up the rest of the food, and then climbed in the car.

I had been fortunate with the mud and my shoes up until the very end of the trail down, when the front two inches of my left shoe streamlined into a patch of mud. I didn’t fall, but my toes were now wet. It didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would. I asked them to pull into a Walmart on the way back to the ferry. Socks were the only thing I had run out of, laundry-wise, and so it made sense just to buy another pack. Back in the car, I peeled off my shoes and socks. I had put a light layer of Vicks Vaporub on my toes this morning. That was a running trick I picked up and still use because of how prone to blisters I am when running or hiking. No blisters, but a few tender spots. I’m so glad I did that this morning.

We arrived at the ferry an hour before departure, and a much friendlier man in this toll booth assured us that the ferry would not fill up. We stretched some more, but because of the cold, we quickly climbed back inside the warmth of the car. After some time, Craig got out to smoke his pipe, inviting us to join him. We would have, but we both needed more food in our stomachs. So Kristin and I walked over to Subway, back near the entrance to the ferry dock, and each ordered a foot-long turkey sub. We didn’t realize until paying that turkey is not on the $5 sub menu. There had been a list on the board, but we hadn’t looked because we assumed that the basic lunch meat sandwiches were the $5 ones. We figured that turkey must be a high-demand item, and that’s why the price wasn’t reduced. Oh well, lesson learned.

The ferry took us back, but we didn’t get out of the car this time. We then began the long drive back to Burlington. We arrived back around 10:15, but it would have been ten if Craig had listened to me and made a left off the highway instead of a right. We were all so tired, though, that I can’t blame him. I put my stuff in my car, said good-bye and thanks for a terrific day, and then drove back to Everett.

I got a lot of knitting done today, on the drive up and back (Kristin and Craig alternated driving—I was always a passenger). I really need to finish this scarf for my sister Victoria. Good grief, I started this thing three and a half years ago. I’m not very consistent with it. I have learned a few things along the way, though. To go back, I wouldn’t make it so wide because that’s one thing that really slows me down. I would still use size 7 or 8 needles because I like the look of the tighter knit.

Back home, I regaled Grandma with tales of my adventurous day. By then the soreness had set in, and I could barely walk because my hip flexors with so sore. So I quickly ambled over to the couch and went to bed.