Colter, Karson, Ann and I having some fun at the Hurricane Ridge Visitors Center in Olympic National Park. The elevation is 5,200 feet.
The holidays are officially over for us. My boys flew home to Salt Lake and we drove back to Pasco. Ann’s got her VA doc appointments lined up for January, while I’ve got to hit the writing hard to complete some of the sections I avoided last month. Well, to be honest I managed to write only two days all of last month — too many things were happening. On the plus site my ‘editor’ aunt is enjoying the first draft of the book immensely. So, it shows promise!
One of those things (besides the boy’s visit) that kept me too busy to write was our last trip of the year, a trip to the end of the world, or more accurately to the farthest northwestern point on the contiguous United States: the end of the Cape Flattery trail. As I write this my wife and are debating if the claim is truly accurate or not, but rest assured it felt like the end of the world! (See Wikipedia’s list of extreme US points)
A map of our late December two-day trip from Renton to Cape Flattery and back.
The idea for the trip began with Karson. Prior to their arrival last week, he asked if we could take a trip to Olympic National Park during their visit. I thought that sounded like a great idea since neither I nor Ann had been in the area since the late 1980s.
On Monday we drove to the ferry in downtown Seattle, crossed to Bainbridge Island, then drove north and west until we reached Cape Flattery. We were in a hurry, as the drive took about six hours and the sun was supposed to set at 4:30pm. We arrived at the cape around 3PM, with just enough time to hike the Cape Flattery Trail to a lookout point over the Pacific Ocean. It was cold, but fortunately not too windy. Eventually, the sun dropped far enough that the we had to return to the car. By the time we reached our motel in Port Angeles it was very dark.
The obligatory selfie at the ferry dock.
Colter and I on the ferry with Seattle’s waterfront behind us.
Karson trying for the perfect photo at an unmarked stream that poured into the Strait of Juan De Fuca.
