Longing for a quiet walk in the woods, we stop off to hike a bit of the North Fork trail in the Sol Duc Valley. A bear grunts to notify us of his presence. This place belongs to him.
“Every time we walk along a beach some ancient urge disturbs us so that we find ourselves shedding shoes and garments or scavenging among seaweed and whitened timbers like the homesick refuges of a long war.” — Loren Eiseley
My “perfect day” begins in the mountains and ends on the coast, or vice versa. That dreamy combination awaits us on Washington’s Olympic Peninsula. We’ve set aside a week to explore the area, although I imagine that even a lifetime of wandering this region would not allow for seeing all of the amazing natural wonders here.
“The World’s Largest Lumber Port,
the yellow hulk of Cats winding bayfront chip yards,
betting on high-school football”
Misty windswept seaside forests. A rocky beach full of mysterious white pods. Giant ancient trees. A myriad of coastal rainforest plants. We’ve many wonders to experience en route to Coos Bay today.
Fresh local cheese + working fishing village + craft beer + beach + camping under the trees? Yes please!
Old growth rainforest hugs the shore. Misty, foggy bluffs overlook dramatic sandy, rocky beaches. Today we fall deeply in love with the Oregon Coast.
The truffle shuffle. Finnish goods. Legendary smoked fish. Water, water everywhere. The still-slightly gritty tourist town of Astoria is right up our ally.
Don’t come here, you’ll be disappointed. SAID NO ONE EVER. Well, except for that one guy maybe.
We are floating, floating on windy roads, the thick forest obscured by a smoky fog. Trees grow taller and taller. It is morning, and darkly beautiful, in stark contrast to our morning stop in the sunny Yakima Valley for the best fruit we’ve ever had, purchased at a roadside stand fresh from the grower.