Our six days at Kalaloch campground came to an end and we decided it was time to venture over to the east side of The Olympic, to Port Angeles and indulge in being around the human race again. We were pretty grungy at this point and were surviving on a diet of hard cheese, jerky and apples. It was our 28th wedding anniversary and we thought it might be a good idea to clean up a bit and have a night out. We booked a wonderful B&B on the coast of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, a place called Domaine Madeleine. An unassuming building tucked down a long road and surrounded by beautiful gardens, our room looked out over an expanse of lawn, sea and the distant lights of Victoria, BC. The innkeepers were on vacation and substitute innkeepers were there to greet us (Who knew this was a thing you could do? Travel the world as temporary innkeepers, right up my alley!) Cathy and Durell hailed from South Carolina and had found wonderfully interesting ways to spend their later years. We really hit it off, finding ourselves meeting in the afternoon with glasses of wine on the back lawn and watching the freighters go by while the sun set and the lights across the strait began to wink and shine in the twilight. It was great fun to share stories after a week of just the two of us. We all shared a love of travel and learning new skills and it seemed Durell and Cathy had a found a way to combine both loves in creative ways. We hope to stay in touch as I’m curious to know what they think up next to make life exciting.
We spent a brilliant blue sky day exploring Hurricane Ridge. At an elevation of 5,242 ft. the landscape was a feast for the eyes. The unobstructed views of the snow covered Olympic Mountains was thrilling after mucking about in the lowlands of the rain forest. We hiked a few short trails on the ridge, taking in the long range views in all directions. Hurricane Ridge is so named for the intensity of the gales and winds, especially in winter, when snowboarders and skiers brave the slopes. I have to be honest here and say I was glad to come down off that mountain. Despite the views, I was getting a weird sensation of vertigo being so exposed with the wind whipping my clothes and the trails following precarious ridges. I figure the past week at sea level protectively immersed in acres of trees contributed to the sudden feeling of exposure.
Our last day on the peninsula was spent poking around Port Townsend. There was a definite free-spirited vibe to this hip Victorian seaport on the tip of the Northeastern point of Washington. Several old buildings were scattered throughout the downtown and I had a blast exploring the Palace Hotel, an atmospheric Victorian property built in 1889. The proprietor let me wander in and out of the unique guest rooms on the upper floors and it was a great opportunity to peer out the windows and imagine the ladies and gents that inhabited these rooms 100 years ago, looking out at the same view of sky and water. Though I’m not quite sure how much gazing out the windows was happening as the Palace’s upper floors were operated as a brothel for quite some time. In fact the place became known as the Palace of Sweets. Entirely appropriate. Each room was different, some had built in 50’s styles kitchens, others had hidden stairways with loft bedrooms. all had a mash up of antiques from every era. I was the only one wandering in and out of these rooms, it was a little creepy but I was taken with imagining.
There were some great local shops in the downtown area, two wonderful bookstores, and an artists collective with an intriguing collection of Steampunk clothing and accessories. Mark had to convince me not to purchase an ornate pair of motorcycle goggles. We stumbled upon a fantastic little theatre called The Rosebud, showing Blade Runner and selling beer wine and cocktails. I am such a sucker for these small community run theaters that provide food and alcohol, it was an intimate viewing experience made better by the small local venue. I wanted to spend more time here but alas the road was once again beckoning and it looked like the weather ahead was going to clear for our trip to the Oregon Coast. I was ready but as we drove off the Peninsula, I was wistful. The solitude of the misty ancient groves provided me with a great gift and I was already wondering how I could find a way to carry it with me.
