Tales & Trails of a Traveling Wiseguy

Olympic Peninsula Travelog #20
Sunrise Point, Olympic National Park - Mon, 6 Sep 2021. 10am.

This morning we got up early to start our day in Olympic National Park. It feels ironic that this morning, our last day in the area, was the one we got up early. We ate breakfast, packed our bags, and checked out from the hotel by 8am. The previous 3 mornings we didn't roll until 9. But getting an early start today was imperative. We needed enough time to hike several miles in the park and still be able to drive 3+ back to SEA airport in time for our flight home.

We arrived up at Hurricane Ridge before 9. The sky today was brilliantly clear compared to the gloom of the past few days. It made me wish we had time to re-do all of Saturday's hiking up here! Alas we only have a few hours.



I slaked my thirst to do everything over by just taking a few pictures over. Here's a view (photo above) of the park's high peaks seen from Hurricane Ridge. Mt. Olympus is in the way back toward the left. On the far right is the Hurricane Ridge Visitors Center.

We began hiking around 9. Our goal for the day was to hike to Klahhane Ridge— or at least toward it. More on that in a moment. Our immediate goal was Sunrise Point, a dual-peak hill a few hundred feet above the trailhead.



Once we were over the first hump of Sunrise Point the views toward Klahhane Ridge opened up significantly. In the photo above you can see Sunrise Point's second peak on the left. In the distance is actually Klahhane Ridge, with Mt. Angeles its peak. The half-tree-lined ridge in the mid ground is actually still part of Hurricane Ridge, I believe. Maps and guides are unclear on whether that's part of Hurricane Ridge or Klahhane Ridge. Either way that's where we'll go... soon.

I mentioned the other day that one weird thing you have to get used to about hiking peaks is that while you're looking up from below you're frequently looking up at the peak; you set that as your frame of reference. But once you're atop the peak it's no longer in the frame. It's under your feet! If you want photos of the mountain you're in the wrong place. 🤣 Thankfully the point of hiking to Sunrise Point is not to see Sunrise Point— it's actually kind of ugly as a treeless, triangular summit— but to see from Sunrise Point.



Here's a view back down over Hurricane Ridge to the high peaks again. As we've gained elevation, Mt. Olympus more clearly emerges in the distance (left).

You can also see in this photo that the parking area on Hurricane Ridge is not very full. When we finished our last visit Saturday afternoon it was packed. This is one of the benefits of getting an early(ish) start on the day. There are still a fair number of people on the trail already this morning... but nothing like the human parade on Saturday.



Mt. Olympus isn't the only great view from up here, of course. This photo shows the view up the Elwha Valley— miles further upstream than we were able to get yesterday— from Sunrise point. In this view, Olympus is off to the left and Obstruction Point is off to the right.

Another thing you have to keep in mind when hiking mountains is that sometimes the view is not where you're focusing. You may be looking down at (or below) your feet and not see something above, or be looking far off and not see what's below your feet. A small herd of deer were foraging on the steep hillside below Sunrise Point.



This is another benefit of being out early(ish) in the morning. It aligns better with the activity cycle of wildlife; they're most active in the hours after down and before dusk. And with fewer of us humans on the trail at this hour, there's less chance of us frightening them off.

Olympic Peninsula Travelog #17
Sol Duc, WA - Sun, 5 Sep 2021. 3:30pm.

After finishing our hike at Marymere Falls this afternoon we drove a bit further west, to the Sol Duc River valley. Sol Duc is a transliteration of the native Quileute name for the river. It means "sparkling waters". On some signs it's written (improperly, IMO) as "Soleduck" because those are the two English words the pronunciation sounds like.



As with Marymere Falls earlier today I'm not going to write much about the trail itself. The hike is easy to see as a means to an end— that end being the glorious Sol Duc Falls.



"Not much" is not the same as nothing, though. I will write a bit about the trail, if only because in places like this it's important not to overlook the trail as being strictly a means to an end. Being deep in the rain forests of the Pacific Northwest is a sublime experience if you slow down enough to absorb it. Tall trees rise far above you, while the green of undergrowth glistens with drops of water. In beauty all around me, I walk.

Then you hear the falls crashing over rocks and that all recedes back into the background. 🤣



Most of the waterfalls photos I've been sharing this trip I've shot with slow exposures. That's how I get the silky, blurred effect with the flowing water. The photo I've included above doesn't have that effect. It's more like what a typical photographer shoots in this scene. It's 1/240 sec at f/5.6, ISO 800. Instead of a motion blur effect with the water you get a stop-motion effect: you can see the water in drops and blobs spraying over the falls.

I've included this picture so you can compare it to the next one, shot at the same place but with different camera settings.



This photo is shot at 1.4 seconds— an interval 336 times longer than the previous pic. I narrowed the aperture down slightly to f/6.4 and lowered the sensitivity to ISO 80.... but these two changes alone don't explain how I was able to set the shutter to stay open 336x as long. Those two settings only allow about a 11x change. The other factor of 32x came from the neutral density (ND) filter I've been writing about in many of these waterfall blogs.

Which one's better? It's a matter of taste. I'll say that the first photo is more accurate to the experience. It looks like what you see with the human eye when you are there. The second one is more art. I tend to prefer the second style (as you might have guessed from how often I employ it in the waterfall photos I share) but I'm sharing both here so you can choose for yourself.

Keep reading: MOAR Sol Duc Falls!

Olympic Peninsula Travelog #15
Elwha Valley - Sun, 5 Sep 2021. 10:45am.

When we drove to the trailhead for our hike to Madison Falls this morning (previous blog) we saw signs of trouble. Like literally signs of trouble. "Road closed", "Bridge out ahead", and stuff like that.



A flood washed out part of the road that enters the Elwha Valley. Yes, this is the same Elwha Valley we hiked part of the trail to from 5,500' above yesterday. And which a ranger up at Hurricane Ridge told us we should be sure to visit from down below. Well, with the road gated beyond Madison Creek Falls we figured we'd walk it a little bit instead.



The walk was a pleasant one. The scenery was beautiful, with the river right beside us much of the time. And with the area blocked to cars it was quiet. We shared the road with a scattering of other hikes and a few bicyclists.



In less than a mile we arrived at the site of the washout. Yup, that bridge is totally gone!

Seeing how... weathered... the area around the washout is made us wonder how long ago it happened. We did a bit of searching online. It turns out this area has flooded twice in the past several years. It flooded in 2015, wiping out the road. The Park Service fixed it, then it flooded again in 2017 and wiped out the road again. The Park Service had plans to implement a new design by 2021 but it seems that may have been interrupted by Covid work stoppage.

Why two recent floods, BTW? For decades this valley was protected by a pair of small dams upstream. In the 1990s Congress passed an act to remove those dams and "return the area to its natural state". In 2011 the dams were fully removed. Now the area's natural state is... NO ROAD. 🙄

Up next: Marymere Falls. (The day is by no means over!)

Olympic Peninsula Travelog #12
Olympic National Park, WA - Sat, 4 Sep 2021. 5pm.

After hiking Hurricane Ridge today we were pretty beat. We made the scenic drive out to Obstruction Point afterward because a ranger had recommended it and because the only commitment it entailed was driving— not more hiking. When we got to Obstruction Point, though, we suddenly wanted to hike. It was Lillian Ridge rising above us that piqued our interest.



Lillian Ridge was just one of three directions we could've gone from Obstruction Point. All looked interesting, but Lillian was the one that went up. Why choose up when we're tired? For one, the trails that start out going down would require coming back up later when we're even more tired. Two, by starting with the ascent we could turn around at any point we needed and basically just roll back to the car. Three, we wagered there was an awesome view from the top of that ridge.

We were not wrong.

BTW, Lillian Ridge looks intimidating from the trailhead. It looks like it could be 500' of ascent or more. I figured that was a trick of perspective caused by the stark landscape here, mostly above the treeline. I wasn't wrong on that, either. Lillian Ridge was only about a 250' climb.



At a starting elevation of 6,100' the 250' climb was not trivial. Or at least it shouldn't have been. But it seemed like it was. Great views in all directions distracted us from our aching muscles and shortness of breath.

Among the views was the look back at where we'd come from. The photo above shows Obstruction Peak (right of center). In the center of the frame you can see the parking area at the Obstruction Point. Winding left from there and then off into the distance is the Obstruction Point Road. Why they call this Obstruction Peak and Obstruction Point, when there are three trails and a dirt road meeting there, I don't know. It just doesn't seem very... obstructive.



Atop Lillian Ridge the stark beauty continued.

"How far should we go?" was a question on our minds. "To the far edge," I suggested. "Anywhere we don't have to go down and then come back up."



We followed the path across the top of Lillian Ridge until it started to drop down the far side. And drop it did! Lillian River is in a valley over 4,000' deep! The topo map says the trail doesn't go all the way down there; it skirts a hanging canyon on the side. But either way we weren't going to find out.

On the way back I took a slight detour. "I'd like to see the view over the other edge of the ridge top," I said. Hawk was tired and wanted to go straight back. I'm glad I insisted.



Over the eastern edge of the ridge I spotted this hidden pocket lake. It's in a small glacial cirque that hides it from being seen from almost any other spot than right here. Even walking 200m to the side along the ridge top causes it to disappear.

Olympic Peninsula Travelog #10
Olympic National Park, WA - Sat, 4 Sep 2021. 1pm.

The weird thing about climbing a mountain is that one you get to the top the views are all missing something.... You can't see the mountain. You're accustomed to seeing it dominate the skyline, and all of a sudden... nope. It's under your feet now. Fortunately the flip side of being on top of a mountain is you can see everything else.



Looking north from Hurricane Hill I see down across the twin spires of Unicorn Peak and Unicorn Horn to the Straight of Juan de Fuca. With Hurricane Hill at elev. 5,757' this is more than a vertical mile. The town on the near shore is Port Angeles, where we're staying for 3 nights. Across the straight, on the left, is Vancouver Island. The city on its shore is Victoria, Canada, the capital of the province of British Columbia. The large island on the right farther away is San Juan Island, part of Washington, US. The dead trees on the near ridge are left from a fire that burned in 2008.



Turning slightly to the right I see Mt. Angeles. It's been there, over my right shoulder, pretty much the whole hike up to this point.

From the top of Hurricane Hill we explored out a bit further on the ridge. It descends gently for a bit before dropping off steeply. We went to the edge of the steep area to take a look around.



Here the trail back to the west shows the summit of Hurricane Hill. Beyond it is the Elwha Valley, a steep drop of more than a vertical mile. Beyond the ridges on the far side of Elwha Valley is the Pacific Ocean.

So, having show view to the north, east, and west, what's left is... the south. And you know what's there. Right? It's been there the whole time. Mt. Olympus.



And speaking of things that have been here the whole time, fellow Homo Sapiens have been constant companions on this trek, as well. Some outdoors writers I've had the misfortune of buying books from consider people a pest and bad-mouth any hiking trail that's too popular. Many hikes are popular precisely because they are so beautiful. I don't begrudge my fellow hikers the beauty in which we walk. Plus, it's fun seeing other people enjoy themselves, like the hikers checking their watch to learn "It's Mountain Time!" or these folks, above, posing for their own picture. In beauty we walk. Together.

Update: This hike is over but the adventure continues! Read about Obstruction Point in my next blog.

Olympic Peninsula Travelog #8
Olympic National Park, WA - Sat, 4 Sep 2021. 11am.

Finally we begin our hike along Hurricane Ridge— a hike 13 years in the making! As skilled hikers we know that every hike begins with proper preparation. No, we didn't spend 13 years preparing, though we did spend an hour or so studying trail descriptions and maps. Then the visitor center at the trailhead had an even better map than we'd found online: this 3-D map of the Olympic Mountains.



"You are here" marks the visitor center. The Hurricane Hill trail heads off to the west/right from there, climbing out to Hurricane Hill, the highest point on the ridge.

I'd start the description of our hike with a picture of Hurricane Hill from the trailhead but there isn't one. The shape of the ridge is such that you can't see for a while after you start. Nobody's left wanting for views, though, as the Olympic high peaks to the south are constant companions.



The view of Mt. Olympus and neighboring snow-capped peaks wasn't the only view worth enjoying. While they were our constant companions to the left, Mt. Angeles and the Klahhane RIdge were our constant companions to the right.



In these photos you can see another piece of our preparation: coming dressed for the success. Though it's still summer, the weather up here at roughly 1 mile altitude will barely reach 60° today (about 15° C). And the wind is howling. They call it Hurricane Ridge for a reason! I'm wearing 3 layers of clothing; Hawk has 5. We packed extra layers beyond these in case the weather wasn't this "good". 😮

Finally after an enjoyable first leg of the hike the first real sight of Hurricane Hill came into view.



Hurricane Hill, elev. 5,757', is the top of the ridge at the right of the frame. You can see the trail winds around to the right, then around the far side of the knob to the left, then on up to the top of the ridge. From down here it looks so far! The starkness of the landscape ahead distorts the scale.

The adventure continues! Keep reading in Part 2: It's (always) Mountain Time.