The third installment of the kids' annual summer backpacking trips had us heading to the Washington Coast rather than the mountains. Even though the high elevations had treated us well the last two trips we needed a more mellow trip for Clara's recovering knee. So rather than climb to great heights we went to the lowest place in the state.
The plan was to enjoy a couple of days of bluebird weather playing on the beaches in Olympic National Park. I figured two crappy days would be all we deserved across our three trips. Certainly, it wouldn't rain on us, right?
Yeah. You guessed it. It rained. And that sucked. But it wasn't a drenching type of rain at first. It just oozed and made everything damp. And then it dumped for a little while, but I'm getting ahead of the story.
We woke at the trailhead because of course we slept in the car. It's one of those lessons I've learned over the years. Don't waste any of your precious adventure time driving. Especially when it's a four hour drive.
The hike was relatively short. It was eight miles, but more importantly it was less than a thousand feet of gain each day. The initial section through the forest was all downhill past huge dripping with moss and rain. As gnarly as it can be on the west slopes of the Cascades, it was even thicker and wetter on the coast.
On the beach we could see the sea stacks as outlines in the mist and waves lapping at the sand. The Olympic coast isn't exactly the kind of place you go to lay out and get a tan, yet there were a tents set up and backpackers lounging in front. We passed them by and soon ran out of beach. It was time for the climbing.
And I don't mean climbing as in following a trail that goes uphill. I mean climbing near vertical bluffs with only the help of handlines and some of the most interesting ladders imaginable. It was just like the gullies on the Loowit Trail around Mount Saint Helens last year, but full of mud instead of volcanic ash.
We climbed up off the beach, traversed across the top of the bluff, then dropped back down. Then we climbed back up off the beach, traversed across the top of the bluff... No climb was more than a couple hundred feet, but we had almost a thousand feet of gain (and loss) the first day.
Along the way we found shells and barnacles and seaweed and even a couple of otters at play. And sand. Ugh. Sand. Hiking on sand is harder than on a trail or on snow. I should have brought my snowshoes. Also, we were racing a high tide. We had to go up and over a couple of mini bluffs rather than around.
We made camp in the trees off the beach near Toleak Point. It was mostly dry so we took a few moments to get camp set up before heading out to the beach. As soon as we were ready to check out the tide pools: rain.
But would the coast be without rain? It'd be California and nobody wants that. (Actually, after all the rain a nice hot beach might not have been too bad...) The hard rain didn't last long. It let up enough we were able to hang our coats and enjoy the sunset through the clouds.
In the morning it was still damp, but not too bad. Talking to a couple of other hikers we learned that the tide was on its way out. If we wanted to have an easier hike we needed to get going quickly. So... fill the packs with gear! It fit before! Push harder!
It turns out knowing the conditions is really helpful. How did I not think to research the tides? If I go into the mountains I look at the distance and elevation gain. In the winter I look at snow conditions to assess avalanche risk. I always look at the weather. Why not the tides? So the lesson from this trip is to do your research. Even better, make your kids do it. (Well, when they're old enough. Clara's 15 and she's more than capable of figuring out when we need to be on and off the beach.)
Hiking at low tide was great. The sand was firmer so we made good time and we were able to walk around a few of the obstacles we had to climb over on the way in. The birds were having a field day, too. They ran through the shallows picking at the kelp and dead things.
The ladders and ropes were as much fun as they were on the way in, but wetter and muddier. The rain had stopped, but the clouds were sitting low on the beach and in the forest. We ran into a few people coming in for day hikes, but no more backpackers heading south.
It was either that it was Sunday or the end of the season, but backpacking was done for them as it was for us. At least until the snow is deep enough to support a tent. Then we'll get back out there.
