The Rascal Diaries: 7/9/14 Trees

Sun in the Rainforest. Washington paused in its torrents of rain to gift us with a day of pure sunshine.

According to the locals, we have just missed a week of teeming rain as evidenced by the mudslide warnings along the road. Remnants of red clay cover our route and as we squint into the cloudless sun, we thank that lucky star for giving us these flawless Washington days.

Trawlers and small craft bobbed on the choppy water as we prepared to leave Clallam Bay. The brilliant day belied the chill in the air, so we leathered up. Backtracking, we rode south to route 113. Even though we had traveled as far as we could in these 48 states, other roads called to us.

At Forks, made infamous by the Twighlight novels, we stopped for groceries. References to vampires are everywhere. Apparently it is a Mecca for teens (and older fans) besotted by the books.

Our next stop, the Hoh River Rainforest. One of the largest temperate rainforests in the US, it is protected as part of the Olympic National Park. As we drove along the Hoh River, the overwhelming greenness of this fertile and damp woodland enchanted us. Stopping for a picnic in a secluded area, the sun flirted through the trees, making the setting even more magical. One could imagine hobbits and fairies dancing among the giant ferns. The smoke from Jules' lunchtime campfire added to this ethereal moment.

A ride through the forest was the dessert to our lunch. The Hoh River winds through enormous cedars and firs that canopy the road. Huge stumps, moss covered and aged, tell the story of a different age when this land was not protected. Brilliant flowers bloom everywhere and banana slugs lurk in the dank crevices of exposed roots. The road ends in the Hoh River Trail which treats you to views of Mt. Olympus.

From the forest, we headed south on route 101. The beginning of the Pacific Coast Scenic Highway, it gradually drew us off the Olympic Penninsula. A lesson in logging was given to us on this part of the road. Mile after mile of Tree Plantations streamed by us as we marveled at the systematic harvesting and replanting of millions of acres. Plots of trees in varied stages of growth checkered the mountains. Logging trucks were our most frequent companions as they roared through the mountains. It boggles my mind that a manager for one of these plantations oversees the planting of trees that he will never see harvested in his lifetime. I was impressed positively by these farms. We are consumers of thousands of wood products. The necessity of these well managed operations is obvious and the methodology used to replenish the resources is striking.

Into the chilling fog, we sluiced our way down 101 past muddy oyster beds and marshes. This stretch of the highway is barely inhabited and when we wheeled into the charming shore town of Long Beach, we were gratified to stay. Cloaked in fog, the town exuded a sense of sleepiness. I am sure when the sun shines, the pace picks up. A dinner of local oysters, incomparable to any we have ever eaten, followed by a stroll through town, ended another page in the story of our riding together.

It has been a day of anomalies. Sun in the rainforest, clouds at the beach. Tomorrow we will leave Washington. She has been very kind to us. Sunny days are rare, as witnessed by the crazed growth of trees and plants. The gift of brilliance as a backdrop to the beauty of the Cascades and the Olympic Penninsula was given to us and we are overwhelmed with gratitude.