Hurricane Hill

When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations, it’s not reasonable to grieve when it comes to an end.

–Stephanie Meyer, Twilight

Sunlight washed over the mountain landscape that sprawled out in front of me. A line of snow-capped peaks seemed to stretch on forever as fluffy clouds floated high in the sky above. I knew that somewhere on the other side of the Olympic range, as endless as it seemed, was a temperate rainforest full of trees laden in thick moss. Beyond that was the rugged coast of the Pacific ocean, scattered with the bleached skeletons of once-great trees. The promised possibilities that hid behind each peak were as endless as the mountain range itself; the mountain range so heavenly that it was named after the home of ancient Greece’s gods. This was Olympic National Park, the uncompromising US national park that has everything a nature enthusiast could possibly ask for. I didn’t know exactly what the next few days would hold, but I knew that whatever happened, it was bound to be good.

Vince and I had left Seattle early that morning with Mike and Sarah. We took a short ferry ride from Edmonds to the Olympic Peninsula, then drove separately to Port Angeles, where we combined into one car for our foray up to Hurricane Ridge. Presently, we were beginning the hike up to the summit of Hurricane Hill. This easy hike was sure to offer us some spectacular views of the mountain landscape-that is if the good weather held out for us.

Somehow a layer of fog had managed to descend upon us in the amount of time it had taken us to find a parking spot and hoof it through a dry forest to reach the trailhead. The skies, which had been perfectly clear fifteen minutes earlier, were now obstructed by an ethereal haze. I was beginning to wonder if this was going to turn into a repeat me and Vince’s foggy day at Mount Rainier earlier that week.

But I needn’t have worried. The wispy tendrils of fog that snaked around us now were being blown about by a pervasive breeze. Instead of blocking out the whole landscape, they created a dreamy atmosphere as the mountain range came in and out of view between curtains of mist. The hillside we walked along was speckled with the yellow, purple, orange, and white hues of various wildflowers, which contrasted beautifully with the dark greens and blues of the evergreen-covered mountains.

Sarah hummed a soft tune and I burst out laughing. She was singing a little riff from “Eyes on Fire,” a song from the soundtrack of the first Twilight movie. The dramatic melody has since been memeified, and “hoa hoa hoa season” had become a term used to describe cold, generally moody weather. This day certainly fit the bill. In fact, it looked like a scene plucked straight from a Twilight movie, and suddenly I felt like I might just stumble upon a sparkly vampire and fall unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.

Twilight was at the forefront of our minds for a reason. While the Olympic Peninsula is perhaps best known for its incredible natural beauty, it is also known for being the setting of the Twilight novels and movies. So as we walked through walls of fog, punctuated by sprawling mountain views, we couldn’t help but quote some of favorite lines (mostly the ones that lean towards melodramatics) from the iconic series.

We were still laughing and carrying on with the Twilight quotes when we suddenly stopped dead in our tracks, floored by the sight of a low-hanging cloud that had formed in front of us, further up the trail. The cloud looked like a wall, blocking off the path. In a few minutes, we would have to walk right into it in order to continue on the trail.

Darkness enveloped us when we reached the cloud and plunged intrepidly into its depths. Inside, it felt like we’d entered an air conditioned building. Goosebumps raised on my arms as fast-moving fog zoomed passed us, and wove around spiky evergreens. Now this was quintessential hoa hoa hoa weather.

After we emerged from the cloud, we still had to tackle the steepest section of the trail. We kept pressing upwards, stopping frequently to admire the ever-changing, dramatic scenery. Even though we had the same view of the mountains, the fog made them look different every time we looked over at them.

Eventually we stepped up onto the barren, rocky summit of Hurricane Hill. The ground here was worn down to dust and rock from so much foot traffic, leaving no trace of the grasses and flowers that blanketed the rest of the hill. There were already a couple of hiking groups there, taking a break of some of the exposed rock, so we joined them and broke out the peanut butter sandwiches Sarah and Mike had made for our lunch.

As we ate, a blacktail deer picked her way over the landscape just below us, and the tiniest chipmunk I’ve ever seen hovered nearby, keeping a watchful eye out for any crumbs that may fall from our sandwiches.

I think this was an Olympic Chipmunk, a subspecies that is endemic only to the Olympic peninsula. This chipmunk is known for being smaller than its counterpart, the Townsend’s Chipmunk.  Olympic Chipmunks are also known to live in the subalpine zone of the park, which would make Hurricane Hill a likely place to spot one. I was definitely excited to see one of these cute little creatures, knowing that this is the only place in the world that this particular subspecies can be found.

The chipmunk stared us down as we finished up our lunch. When we were done, we packed up our trash, and started the hike back downhill. The fog had settled even thicker over the landscape below us, but we walked over to another nearby viewpoint anyway. When we arrived, there wasn’t much to see, but we did spot another blacktail deer, this one a male with velvet still coating his antlers.

We watched the graceful animal in awe for several minutes before resuming our downhill hike toward the parking lot. The weather got clearer as we descended, and I made sure to take the time to really appreciate the sun-soaked wildflowers that lined the trail. Before I knew it, we were back at the car. We lingered at the trailhead, watching one last doe grazing in a meadow in front of the mountains. Then we hopped back into the car, and drove towards Port Angeles, stopping at a national park visitor center along the way.

Sadly, our arrival in Port Angeles shortly thereafter marked the end of our time with Sarah and Mike. They were planning to stay in Port Angeles for the night before heading home to Seattle, and Vince and I would press onward to Forks. But we did have time to walk along the Port Angeles waterfront and get “New Zealand Style” ice cream with our friends before saying our goodbyes.

I wouldn’t know firsthand if this is actually popular in New Zealand, since me and Vince’s time there was mostly spent in the wilderness of the South Island where restaurants were hard to come by. But the employees at the ice cream shop put vanilla ice cream and real fruit into a machine that blended the ingredients together and squeezed the concoction out into a cone. I have to say, whether this is actually popular in New Zealand or not, this was some really delicious ice cream.

After finishing up our ice cream, we walked back to Sarah and Mike’s motel and said goodbye to them. It had been a lot of fun catching up with them after several years, and I definitely hope to go visit them again soon. We drove out of Port Angeles in the direction of Forks. It would take an hour to get to our motel, but we still had enough daylight left to stop for one more hike along the way.

This would be our only real opportunity to check out the Olympic Hot Springs area of the park since the rest of our itinerary would be focused near Forks. So we took a detour down a long, forested road until we found the trailhead for Sol Duc Falls. Vince parked the car, and we started walking through a forest that gave us a small glimpse of what the temperate rainforest of the Olympic Peninsula would be like. Ancient trees towered over our heads, creating a dark and inviting atmosphere, while babbling creeks cascaded over moss-covered rocks. Even this tranquil forest couldn’t compare to the one we’d see the next day, but it was beautiful in its own right.

It was just a short walk downhill through the forest to find the waterfall we’d come here to see. Sol Duc Falls has a reputation for being the most beautiful waterfall in Olympic National Park. This is the only waterfall that Vince and I visited on the peninsula, so I couldn’t say definitively, but I can definitely see how it might have gained that reputation.  The slot canyon that the waterfall flows through is beautiful enough on its own with moss covered walls, and turquoise pools in the river that runs through it.

But the waterfall itself really is outstanding.  The falls are divided by large boulders that divert the river into three distinct streams as it tumbles over a cliffs edge.  The entire canyon surrounding it is unbelievably green, which makes the area feel like a tranquil oasis. A wooden bridge crossed over the canyon, giving us an awesome view of the waterfall.

We walked across the bridge, and then stepped out onto the rocky riverbank to get a view from behind the crashing water as well. I could barely hear Vince over the water’s roar as we grabbed a few photos before starting back up the trail.

This had been a very worth-while stop to round off our day. After we made it back to the car and had driven far enough to get cell service, I did a little impromptu research because I was curious about the name Sol Duc. It turns out “Sol Duc” is from the Quileute language and it means “sparkling water.”  Between the rivers, waterfalls, and hot springs, it feels pretty self evident why this region of the peninsula would be named Sol Duc. I was very glad we’d taken the time to see it even though we were getting tired and hungry from a long day of travel and hiking.

As we got closer to Forks, I felt more than ready to get some dinner and then crash into bed. We pulled into town around 7:00 pm, driving passed the iconic “The City of Forks Welcomes You” sign that is featured in the first Twilight movie. I could already tell I was going to have a lot of fun exploring the coast and the forest around Forks, and partaking a bit in all of the Twilight themed attractions around town. After checking into our motel and grabbing a late dinner, Vince and I set our alarms for early the next morning and then crashed into bed. It would be another long day tomorrow, and we couldn’t wait!