Options
I-90 East through Montana, North Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin and Illinois. I'd have less mountain passes to cross but Eastern Montana and North Dakota have some awfully long stretches of lonely road.
I-84 SE through Oregon, Idaho, Salt Lake City, Denver and the rest of the way on I-70. Lots of mountains here but the weather next week will be great and I'm much more familiar with this territory. This will be my likely route with a sleep over just outside of Denver.
Thoughts? Suggestions?
Where In The Hell Is Matt?
You've probably already seen this but if not, check it out: http://www.wherethehellismatt.com/index.html, while I come up with something real to write about. Make sure you turn your speakers on or plug in your headphones if you're at work, the music adds to one of the coolest and most inspirational videos I have ever seen. One lucky dude...
If you like it, pass it on to a friend via e-mail and pick up a pack of Stride Gum the next time you're at the market.
Why Snow In Seattle Is Bad.
Because we have lots of streets like this:
We got another 3-5 inches today and schools in the area were closed for the 4th consecutive day.
But the white stuff can also add to the already beautiful scenery as exhibited here by Mark Griffith:
You can check out more of his excellent photography on Flickr.
The Olympic Peninsula Trip
ok, ok. The trip sucked so bad that I wasn't going to write about it but I need to stop the e-mails. So here goes.
A week ago tonight, wrote this post about how I was going on spontaneous hiking trip for a few days out on the Olympic Peninsula. In short, It was great except for the parts where it sucked.
I barely made (and I mean barely) the 5:50 am ferry from Edmonds to Kingston though when I got on, I was surprised to pick up a wireless access point on my MacBook Pro. Not a huge technical feat at all, but I was surprised nontheless, especially since it was free that day. The boat ride (yes, we stay in our cars the whole time) was over quickly and then I got to cross the Hood Canal Floating Bridge for the first time and then on up to Highway 101. Past the bridge and Port Ludlow, there's not much civilization until Sequim (pronounced Sk-wim). As the sun rose, I was treated to the eastern foothills of the Olympic Mountain rage and water almost everywhere else. It is a stunning drive. The first (and really only) large town on the Olympic Peninsula is Port Angeles and I was blown away about how big it was. I stopped at a Starbuck's drive through and got a latte.
About 20 miles outside Port Angeles, a body of water on your right appears as you wind your way down a pretty large road. But suspiciously, the water is oddly clear with a green sheen. This would be Lake Crescent which gets it's color from it's source, glacier runoff. The lake is stunning. It's incredible stillness and green color is something I'd never seen before and I stopped for an hour just to chill out along it's banks. It's huge! A few years ago I'd read a very interesting story in the Seattle P-I (it's worth stopping here and reading) and I thought alot about the young couple that's probably still at the bottom of this lake. What were there last thoughts before the accident? What would they have done that afternoon had they not crashed? What was the day like? And on and on.
After the lake, there's not much, I don't think I saw a single car for over 50 miles. It's primarily logging land so make sure you get gas in Port Angeles (click for map). I was tired but wanted to get Rialto Beach and hole in the wall before I checked out Forks and possible lodging. I turned right on Route 110 and headed for the beach. Along this road, I saw a surprising number of large homes that looked pretty civilized.
The beach was beautiful and I was the only one there. Low tide was scheduled for 9:54 and I had arrived at 9 so that gave me time to get my gear together (I obviously didn't want to drive 5 hours in my hiking pants) and get out to the beach. The approaching storm (the one that dumped almost a foot of snow on the eastside of Seattle) made for a rough surf which is what I had wanted. I must admit that it was not easy to hike on this beach. The surface was made of billions of tiny litte stones that were wet and felt like quicksand. It took me almost an hour to cover the first mile. It was cool being the only person in the world on this beach. At the one mile mark, I reached what was supposed to be a small creek. Heh. Not exactly. This was a raging river. The water was at least 4 feet deep and swift enough to carry a 20 pound stone 20 feet down the way. I didn't want to risk getting my feet wet so early so I spent about 30 minutes pacing up and down the thing (to the ocean water) until I devised a clever path using some fallen logs. When i decided to go, I was committed since I had thrown my pack over to the other side which had my car keys and everything else in them. Turns out I shouldn't have worried about getting wet. A few minutes after crossing the creek, I got tackled by a 9 foot wave that came at least 10 feet furhter up the beach than anything previous. Completely knocked me on my ass but I was smart to keep my camera over my head. I really wasn't worried about getting pulled into the sea by an undercurrent but I was shocked about how warm the water was. It was like a warm bath. I went to Hole In the Wall and turn around towards the car. I walked half in the water though since I was already wet.
I drove into Forks, looking for some lunch and a possible hotel. Forks (click for map) is a small logging town about 12 miles from the shore and there's not much here in the summer, let alone the winter. The only place to get food was at a small grocery store but there was a nice little hotel called the Forks Motel. It looked clean and rooms for $39 a night on the weekdays during the off season. Since the place was so cheap, I decided to call it a day (I'd been awake now for 39 hours) and I got a room. I took a warm shower and was asleep within an hour. Around 8 pm, my cell phone woke me.
The trip was over. It seems I had not obtained the necessary permits. I packed up, checked out (the woman at the desk insisted I get a refund while I insisted I pay for the night) and got on the road. 9 hours later (I missed the Bremerton-Seattle ferry by less than two minutes) I was home.
I'd love to go back, but probably won't. You can check out all of my photos from the tip in my Flickr gallery.
