This is a reanimation of the Vicaribus blog as lived by Miro Kazakoff and Ehren Foss in 2004 and 2005. The photos may be spotty.

Olympic Feats of Strength

Posted by ehren

After looking at weather, snow lines, open roads, ranger's reports, and the like from the Cascade and Olympic regions, we figured that both ourselves and the bus would be most likely to survive a trip through the Olympic Peninsula. Not knowing where and when our paths would diverge, we drove both vehicles north along the west edge of Puget Sound's many misty inlets. We met at the visitor's center of Blin, making identical time with the bus at full speed and Firedog making two lengthy sightseeing stops. Also, it rained.

Sean and I drove up into the local National Forest to investigate the possibility of camping on one of the logging roads. We travelled perhaps 5 miles inland, scouting locations where the bus could turn around if necessary, but on our way we were blocked by a moderately large tree, fallen across the road. Luckily the main trunk shattered midway across the roadway, and the remaining pieces were small enough for the two of us to clear. Worst case we would've taken one of the road bikes down to get the hatchet (or buy an axe), but it wasn't necessary. Did it rain, you ask? Yes.

We spent the evening packing, cooking, and talking, with rain spattering on the roof and a creek rushing below, down a steep muddy incline. Earlier we saw an old totalled car, overgrown with ferns and moss, that must've wandered too close to the edge. Verily, it was raining.

In the morning we woke up late (Sean made empty threats about setting a 7:30 alarm) and drove into Port Angeles to buy additional food, and then 20 miles farther to the west to the Elwha river. After encountering our second bemused but helpful Ranger of the day we drove up the final 8 miles to the trailhead, and hiked 2.4 miles to the Olympic Hot Springs campground (1800 ft...ish). The path took us slowly uphill along an abandoned road which used to lead to a now-defunct resort at the springs, in the rain.

After setting up camp we went down to the springs, which were nearly full (Sunday) and found ourselves in the first of seven pools, which was on the upper edge of warm, not quite hot enough to kill a thick layer of sediment and algae. The highest pool had a bunch of naked people in it (which is totally not a big deal) and the other empty ones just weren't as good. It rained off and on, but very occasionally the clouds broke to allow beams of sunlight -- almost alien to our eyes at this point -- over snowy Appleton Pass.

Sean cooked hot peanut ramen soy sausage surprise, and it was very tasty, except for Rana (I did spell her name wrong in the earlier post, and Miro got it right, but only because he cheated: He asked.) who got the bowl in which the sauce was mixed, which gave a taste of paint-stripping potency. We wisely started harvesting rainwater runoff from the tarp.

In the morning, we woke up late, Sean cooked oatmeal with dried cranberries, and we set out on a day hike to Boulder Lake (4300 feet). We hiked fast (7 miles round trip), the trail had a constant upward and traversing grade along the rising and thinning Bouler Creek, and just before the lake we broke into wet, mushy snow. When the clouds lifted the view of the lake and nearby Boulder Peak and Mt. Appleton were easily worth the effort, and we ate a lunch of suspect cheese, sausage, triscuits, and Hershey bars under a tree (to get out of... you guessed it... the rain).

By late afternoon we were back in the hot springs, claiming the 7th, highest, cleanest, and hottest pool for ourselves, and a few locals from Port Angeles. One, who teaches middle school in nearby Sequim, had jogged up to the springs (!!!) and said we'd have no problem getting the bus onto a Seattle ferry. I'm totally excited about taking the bus on a ferry, most likely in the rain.

For dinner Sean cooked tuna-mac, and Sean and I made fun of Miro when he asked that his tuna not be mixed in, as he prefers to eat it separately. A fair request, to be sure, but not one based on the experience of typical backcountry backpack cooking. Usually, call anything hot and free of bugs and dirt a five star experience.

In the morning, we woke up late, Sean cooked oatmeal with dried cranberries, and we broke camp and walked down the easy trail back to the trailhead. Today it is SUNNY! Since a single sunny afternoon at the Eugene farmer's market, it has rained. It hasn't been a constant heavy downpour, but it's been enough that you could round up and say it's been wet the whole damn time. My boots have been wet for 3 days, and Miro's room is growing mold, but TODAY IT IS SUNNY.

We decided to deal with unpacking and cleaning later, when we got to the Forks area for the night (the far west coast of the Olympic Peninsula). Miro and I left first, and we've been in Forks for nearly 2 hours, with no sign of Sean and Rana. I'm not a betting man, but I'll wager that Sean took Rt. 113 instead of staying on 101, and is now enjoying a frustrating, but scenic, 200 mile detour.

There are many pictures of the past week, some blurry, some good, but most are on Sean's camera and Forks does not have the bandwidth to upload the rest.