For the second half of the trip, we wanted to camp on the western side of the Olympic Peninsula so we drove towards Rialto Beach. There was a sign at the start of the road to Rialto Beach that advised that RVs were not allowed past that point (still 2 miles to go to the beach)! Fortunately, our good luck continued because after checking with a ranger we discovered that there was an unexpected available spot at the Mora Campground (also near the start of the road to Rialto Beach) so we quickly set up camp then grabbed the bikes and, with Bailey in basket, rode the 2 miles to the beach.
The parking lot was BEYOND full but we locked up the bikes, donned our masks and snaked through the Covid crowd. What was strange was that everyone visiting seemed to be standing around taking selfies within 100 yards of the parking lot entrance. Once we passed that section, we found that the beach had ample space to social distance. The beach was fairly rocky so not an easy hike for Bailey but with Doug’s encouragement Bailey and I both made it about 1.5 miles down the beach to the sea stacks in the distance. The weather was perfect and Bailey even managed a pose, proud of her accomplishment. Tired from the ride and the hike we made it an early night.
The next day we passed the town of Forks (which we did not visit, but heard is a kitschy must see for Twilight book/movie fans) on the way to the giant Sitka spruces (some over 200 feet tall), ferns as tall as me, big leaf maples, and some clover as big as your palm in the Hoh Rainforest. This trail meanders along the Ho River which was a milky ice blue and gliding quickly. We hiked 2.7 miles to the the Mineral Creek Falls. There’s a bridge that crosses over the lower part of the falls and I thought this was the destination until Doug pointed above. We bushwhacked through a small side trail that others had created to see the water spilling over the top. Both views of the falls are great. When we returned to the RV, I was tired but elated that we’d had a great day hiking!
Boondocking (free dry camping) is allowed at national forest trailheads (if not marked otherwise) so Gatton Creek Falls trailhead on the south shore of Lake Quinalt was where we spent the night. The trail looked intriguing but the large flying insects pounding the windows of our RV dissuaded me that evening. For some reason, bugs love me like Paula Deen loves butter! Plus, I have an over-reaction to most bug bites and swell up like a puffer fish – so Doug hiked without me that evening to the falls.
The next morning we crossed the street to Lake Quinalt and for the first time on the trip, I used the raft with Doug. Other than a single swimmer, some ducks and some very watchful vultures, we were the only ones paddling around the calm and shallow lake.
This paddle fit the bill for what was supposed to be a very relaxing day on the Olympic Peninsula. We’d planned what we thought would be a laid-back drive to our next spot for the night – a Harvest Host winery in Hoodsport – followed by a nice lunch, some wine tasting, and enjoying watching the sunset overlooking vineyards.
While it was a memorable day, it ended nothing like we’d planned.
After a seemingly endless drive around the south part of the park, we saw signs that we were finally entering Hoodsport, which is a highway 101 wide spot to a few homes, restaurants, and a park near the Hoodsport Canal. We spotted our Harvest Host winery as we turned the corner, but not a single car was parked out front of the cute blue grey building with bright red doors and red geraniums in the planters.
As we parked, we noticed some details that were a little off
- Their entry red doors were painted two different reds
- The sign didn’t say “HOODSPORT WINERY” but instead said “OO S ORT WINERY” and
- Their daily chalk board announced they were known for berry wines.
I can handle the mismatched paint and the sign that needs repair but like a pebble smacking the car windshield, my heart cracked just a little at the thought of berry wines.
That crack began to spread when the man behind the counter told us that as of today they had new state orders and we couldn’t wine taste. Without tasting, we reluctantly purchased a chardonnay made by someone else, an “OO SORT” apple cider, and a blackberry rhubarb “OO SORT” wine. No sipping over a wonderful lunch but at least we had alcohol. Let’s set up camp and enjoy the scene!
As he escorted us back behind the winery with very specific directions on where to park the RV, my heart finally shattered.
No vineyards (berry wine) and surprisingly no berry bushes either. Instead just a strange stockpile of plastic barrels labeled with things like banana concentrate from Brazil and a view of long term RV tenants.
As we pulled the RV around back and worked to find a level spot, one friendly tenant (I think here name was Arlene) approached, introduced herself and proceeded to tell us that we could park anywhere we wanted because she said so. It was hot in the afternoon and her shirtless but familiar looking husband nodded in approval. Later I realized he resembled a half-naked Mr. Burns from the Simpsons. Arlene recommended the far back corner of the property behind an old shipping container because it would be quiet. At this point, quiet sounded good.
Doug, ever the optimist, rallied the troops and we headed to Potlatch Park down the way and next to the Hoodsport Canal. We nibbled on snacks and got out our map for route planning. The sun was shining, the temperature near the water was much cooler, and the park scene was upbeat. As evening fell, we snuck back behind the storage container, parked, opened the bottle of white and ended the long day recognizing that together we can make just about any situation ok.
We slept soundly and started our last day in the Olympic Peninsula by hiking the Staircase Rapids trail near Lake Cushman. There are multiple trails that lead out from this parking lot, but we chose something short and scenic. This was a nice waterfall hike next to a pretty river and redwoods.
Leaving Olympic Penninsula we drove into Gig Harbor, grabbed a fro yo, and headed back to Woodinville for another quick stay with family before continuing our travels.
The Olympic Peninsula has so much to offer that it’s hard to say we did it justice in just 4.5 days, but even our OO SORT interactions with Arlene and naked Mr. Burns were memorable.
