Exploring the Olympic Peninsula with Chris and Chelsea

When our son Chris and his partner Chelsea urged his restless parents to join them for winter camping and hiking on the Olympic Peninsula (OP), we practically shouted YES!, even though we'd be traveling north—into the rain. 

This has been the first winter in a half dozen that PK and I haven't fled Oregon's dismal damp by traveling south—into the sun. In recent years, we've been terribly spoiled exploring the American southwest and the Baja Peninsula in our van and then fulfilling lifelong dreams of exotic foreign travel adventures in both hemispheres.

Naturally, we've been peevish during the damn pandemic. A few quick get-aways did not remedy our high standing on the restlessness scale.

       Our guides enjoying a sweet sunrise at Lake Ozette.  

  

Chris and Chelsea live, temporarily, in their Airstream "home" close to Port Angeles, a small city on the edge of the Olympic rainshadow, where the average annual rainfall is just 26 inches. We enjoyed relatively benevolent weather as our enthusiastic guides showed off their new territory.

We saw this as we followed Chris and Chelsea in their Nevervan at the start of our tour. The weather improved in about a half-hour. 

Happy campers! The black trailer is a workspace and storage unit.
The Airstream is home-sweet-home.

Like everybody else, Chris' and Chelsea's lives were upended by the pandemic. This time of year, Chris would have been on, or planning, a kayaking expedition. Chelsea would be doubling down on her Ph.D. dissertation and preparing for another season as a cruise ship naturalist for Lindblad Expeditions-National Geographic  Instead, they migrated in the fall of 2020 to the OP from Washington's North Cascades before winter storms could hold captive the Airstream trailer they call home. 

Ramblers that they are, their intent was to stay for the winter and migrate elsewhere come spring. But it didn't take long before the OP cast a spell that has them discussing becoming first-time property owners. Their intention—and hope—is to settle near Port Angeles, the closest town to where they're now temporarily camped. 

Falling in love with the Olympic Peninsula (OP) is easy to understand. The 96-mile Strait of Juan de Fuca provides ocean perks and a gorgeous north-facing coastal strip where a handful of communities have developed.  On the south side of the coastal strip lies a great wilderness area—the  Olympic National Park. 

From the park's website:

Encompassing nearly a million acres, the park protects a vast wilderness, thousands of years of human history, and several distinctly different ecosystems, including glacier-capped mountains, old-growth temperate rain forests, and over 70 miles of wild coastline.

And kayaker Chris would add at least 19 wild rivers. With an abundance of mountains, rivers, lakes, and ocean beaches, outdoor adventures are practically unlimited. The national park alone has at least 52 trails comprising 611 trail miles. We barely scratched the surface.

If only we were younger....nevermind. 

Chris and Chelsea showed off some of their favorite places so far. Although they've only lived on the OP since October 2020, their explorations have been continuous. If you choose to visit the OP, you could do worse than follow their lead. 

SALT CREEK RECREATION AREA AND CRESCENT BAY - DO NOT MISS

A sweet sight from a coastal trail in the Salt Creek Area.

Atop the aerial photo, Crescent Bay has a private beach and is a separate entity from the official Salt Creek Recreation Area and Campground. The campsites visible accommodate large RVs requiring hook-ups. However, the wooded area between the RV camp and the bay includes some of the most desirable campsites PK and I have ever seen.

The Salt Creek Area offers stunning views from trails along the bluffs and from at least half of its campsites, many of which are fenced to prevent campers from stumbling to the ocean and rocks below. Numerous side trails and stairsteps provide access to coves, fishing rocks, and tidepools. We shared a perfect campsite with Chris and Chelsea in our respective Sprinter vans.

  A cove accessed by a steep path from a 5-mile RT trail is within the                                       Salt Creek Recreation Area. 

The area also includes the Tongue Point Marine Life Sanctuary protecting prolific tidepool creatures. (If you have time, open the link. Impressive photos!) Sadly, the tide wasn't low enough for us to navigate the pools. Another Salt Creek area highlight is significant historic World War II bunkers with interpretive signs. 

Hiking buddies posing on a lush trail.

CRESCENT BAY

Crescent Bay, adjacent to Salt Creek, is popular with - are you ready - surfers! One of whom is Chelsea, an avid type who took to the board growing up in southern California. The day we visited, maybe a dozen surfers were catching February waves, some of them likely camping at the private campground on Crescent Bay. 

Chelsea's photo of a perfect winter surfing day on Crescent Bay.

Unlike Oregon's public coastline, many Washington beaches, including the one at Crescent Bay, are private property. A parking lot off Highway 112 provides bay access for surfers and those who want to explore the adjacent rocky shore and world-class tidepools of the neighboring Salt Creek Area.

Chris is paddling out to join Chelsea, who's surfing and too far away to photograph. This spot is 15 minutes from their Airstream base. 

On another day, Chris caught Chelsea exulting on Crescent Bay.

OZETTE LAKE, DINNER IN THE RAIN, AND A BOARDWALK HIKE TO THE SEA

Ozette Lake, part of the Olympic National Park, is about a 3- hour drive from Port Angeles. We'd planned to settle into the lake's campground late in the afternoon, but problems came up: the campground was closed by flooding, rain was still falling, and darkness was closing in.

It didn't take long to determine that the campground was out. 

   But a gravel parking lot worked fine. Festive lights brightened our spirits, as did communal camp cooking.

 Good Morning Sunshine! 

That morning we set off on a 6.3-mile roundtrip cedar-boardwalk path to

the Cape Alava beach. The trail cut through a dense forest of typically lush but aggressive OP vegetation. We were awed by the work required to prevent the dense flora from eating the trail.

Hikers have options: a round-trip to the beach and back in 6.3 miles, or a 9.4-mile triangular route beginning with the boardwalk trail we hiked, then a left turn along the beach past petroglyphs, then another left onto a trail that intersects the boardwalk near the trailhead. 

We arrived at Cape Alava in time for lunch and leisurely enjoyment. Had we decided on the 9.4-mile option, we would have been rushing. I'd love to see the petroglyphs and the alternate trail back. Maybe next time.

As it was, we had time to obverse dozens of bald eagles and enjoy the
solitude, sounds, and scents of a pristine wilderness beach.
 Then on to the next great place,  Rialto Beach

RIALTO BEACH 

I've seen a lot of ocean beaches, but Rialto takes the cake for drama. Colossal Pacific Ocean waves crash onto a steep beach, which is stacked high with huge logs, more logs than we've seen on any beach anywhere.

Chelsea and Chris had visited Rialto Beach a few weeks earlier at high tide when behemoth winter waves broke onto the logs, causing them to float and crash with enormous power and racket. I wish we could have witnessed that show, but what we observed was also awe-inspiring.  

However, if you're looking for accessibility, Rialto is not good; one must first navigate the logs to walk along the beach.

Chris shot this photo of Chelsea on an earlier trip.

 PK and I on Rialto Beach in our not-meant-to-be-matching jackets and fleece-lined trousers. Chilly! The surf had calmed since the previous day.

Seastacks framed by a beached log

The rocky beach looks bland, but colorful rocks hide there.

We hung out atop a beach log and enjoyed smoked salmon, crackers, and cheese and shared a bit of wine as we watched the sky darken - not really a sunset. When we arrived at the Mora Campground just a few miles up the road, it was dark— early February kind of conditions. A light but persistent rain set in, and we made quick work of finishing a simple dinner.

BOGACHIEL RAINFOREST TRAIL 

Light rain continued the next morning, our last day on the OP. We discussed our options: get an early start home along Highway 101, which veers away from the ocean for much of the way to the Oregon border. Or hike in the rain with Chris and Chelsea on one of the national park's rainforest trails. And then start the drive south.

Hmmm. Not much of a decision. Of course, we did the hike. 

The trail follows the Bogachiel River, one of the 19 wild rivers Chris is documenting, source-to-sea, in his kayak. (More about his project below.) 

We walked for 90 minutes or so before taking a loop back to the start. The muddy trail continued along the river, likely crossing more streams with log bridges, some with handrails, some without—Chris photo credit. 

Fungi flourishing in the rainforest.

Chartreuse is a dominant rainforest hue. 

Time to say goodbye along the Bogachiel River, one of the 19 Chris is documenting in the name of conservation. Chelsea photo credit.

MORE ABOUT CHRIS AND CHELSEA 

Chris has been a professional kayaker since 2009 when Eddie Bauer offered his first sponsorship. He is also a  professional photographer and a filmmaker, writer, and conservationist. His current project: Explore and document the OP's 19 wild rivers, source to sea, supporting current proposed Washington state legislation to protect them under the national Wild and Scenic Rivers Act. (As of this writing, the House of Representatives has passed the bill, which has moved on to the Senate.)

Facebook post

One of the 19 OP rivers being proposed for protection under the
 Wild and Scenic Rivers Act. 

If you'd like to "see more," follow Chris on Facebook or Instagram

                                                            ------

A brilliant student and
 endlessly curious.

Chelsea Behymer is a determined Oregon State University Ph.D. candidate working on her dissertation and looking forward to her new seasonal job in Port Angeles. She'll guide mountain biking, canoeing paddleboarding adventures. Chelsea was a cruise ship naturalist during vacations throughout her college career, most recently with Lindblad Expeditions-National Geographic. In this photo, she's searching for wild cranberries in a rainforest meadow near Ozette Lake.

EARLIER POSTS  

Around the Horn 2018 with Chris and Chelsea - one of our best-ever  adventures 

Hoh Rainforest 2016 OP trip 

Going deeper into Patagonia - but not far enough.

A scene fit for Valentine's Day as we approached the ferry landing at Caleta Gonzalo, a tiny but hyper-busy-twice-a-day ferry port with one overnight tourist accommodation.  

Ferry rides are not optional if one intends to go south into Chilean Patagonia. Especially recently, as the major road, Carretera Austral (AKA southern route), intended to connect a chain of 17 national parks, had a massive blowout during heavy rains earlier this year necessitating a significant watery detour. 

The Carretera Austral concept of connecting parks from Pumalin Park, that begins just north of where we disembarked from the ferry, into the far reaches of southern Chile, began taking shape in the 1970s, according to this must-read National Geographic article.

In the 1970s, the  road was planned to be under 800 miles. Now the goal is 1,500 miles from Pumalin Park, where this post begins, to the far reaches of the continent near Cape Horn.

Read the article. You will want to go there. We're determined to return before we get too old, which could be coming soon.  Maybe we'll go this winter, which happens to be "summer" in Patagonia.

As a one-time-so-far traveler in Chilean Patagonia, I see the region as an adventure traveler's paradise.  It's wild, dramatic, lightly populated, rugged, gorgeous, and unique in the world. It's not luxury travel at all, unless you consider experiencing pretty much unadulterated places luxury. Which, I do. We do. 

As I write this, nearing the end of my posts about our Patagonian experiences, my longing to return grows stronger. I'm only 73. I can tackle more muddy, steep, treacherous hikes in some of the most stunning landscapes on earth. I know I can. And PK? He's not even 70 yet. No problem.

Bicyclists were everywhere in Patagonia (outside of cities). I marveled at fully loaded bicycles being leg-powered up steep roads, most dusty, graveled, and/or under construction. The light colored bike above was handmade from bamboo by its owner, a remarkable woman who was nearing the end of her solo adventure from northern South America (Colombia) to the end of the road at Cape Horn. Kate Rawles has a great story. Worth your time. 

The six-hour ferry ride through Chilean fiords was non stop gorgeous. It began in Hornoporin and ended at Caleta Gonzalo,not a town but a jumping off point to more southerly destinations,including ours, Chaiten, about 35 miles away. 

I was fascinated watching the wind press and swirl this seemingly endless cloud around a behemoth rock next to the ferry landing. Dolphins were spotted close by.

 The yellow line traces our route from Puerto Varas (a bit north of Puerto Montt) to Caleta Gonzalo to Chaiten,where we spent a night in a hostel before retracing our steps.

The yellow line on the green (Chile) on the map below represents the same area as the map above - traveling south from Puerto Montt. 

The red line traces most of our cruise. That little yellow thingie is our road trip. Obviously, we saw much more of Patagonia from the cruise ship.

Overall, we spent roughly equal time on land and sea. If I was forced at gunpoint to pick one over the other, it would be the road trip.

We could book that cruise any time. But the opportunity to travel with our son, Chris, and GF, Chelsea, may never come again.

Benefits to the pleasure of their company:

• More randomness and surprises
• Greater physical challenges
• More feel for the place as we explored roads, trails and accommodations 
• It didn't hurt that Chris speaks passable Spanish and acted as our guide.
• It didn't hurt that they are such fun to be with.

The ferry dropped us into the Pumalin National Park, the largest private park (but open to all) in the world. It was formed by an American, Richard Tompkins, founder of North Face and Esprit brands, who purchased vast tracts of land to preserve and protect them from resource exploitation. Chile boasts numerous privately owned parks (open to the public) but Pumalin is the most recent and the largest.

Another wow moment along the road in Pumalin Park as we made our way from Caleta Gonzalo about 35 miles south to Chaiten, the closest town.

Just a few steps from the ferry landing at Caleta Gonzalo, we saw a sign we were compelled to follow: Trail to the Waterfalls is what it says. Plus a note that it takes three hours to walk to the falls and back. Three hours can be a very long time.
We got right on it. I don't know which was my worst mistake:

• Expecting the trail to be easy. It started that way, got harder.
• Carrying a water bottle, thus having one useless hand that could  have been clutching branches and rocks as the going got rough.
• Not bringing a hiking pole. I should have known from previous Patagonian trails that they are never easy.

I also brought my "real" camera (not just my iPhone) The trouble with my compact Lumix Panasonic, which I love, is that it doesn't fit in my pocket. Thus another thing to carry, this one around my neck. Good thing it had a protective leather case as it banged into rocks and trees climbing short but steep trail segments.

Numerous wooden bridges eased passage over bogs and streams on Cascadas Sendero..

 This is a pleasing freeway section of the early trail 
that allows gawking without constant attention to whether 
one's next step will lead to one's injury or demise. Ok.
That's an exaggeration. This trail was hard for me because
I was carrying stuff in my hands. And because, well, it was hard.

I'd been warned that we'd encounter a stream that was high water and dangerous to cross. We reached that stream. PK and I evaluated and decided not.

Chris? He just leapt across, 50 pounds of never-left-behind camera gear on his back. He never considered not taking the leap.

Chelsea? She had issues. She's several inches shorter than Chris, not quite the leg span required. I used my Lumix Panasonic telephoto magic to capture this series.

Ummm. I don't think so.

Wait! I'll come get you!

Jump!

Not a drop of blood spilled, a foot dipped in glacial melt, nor a temporal artery popped.

Nothing to it, right?

The final trail destination, a spectacular waterfall.
Chris Korbulic photo credit. I sure didn't get far enough to see it.
Maybe with a hiking pole or a bridge .....next time.

I hope to write at least one more post about what happened between where this post ends and the completion of our Patagonian exploration. The day chronicled above ended in Chetain. After we'd rescued two bicyclists from being stranded in the dark 10 miles from town, we checked into our hostel, then ventured into the small village at 11:30 p.m. to find dinner. We couldn't believe that the recommended restaurant was packed, and that as we left close to 1 a.m., other diners were still coming in. 

Maybe it's the long daylight hours during summer in the Southern Hemisphere. Maybe it's cultural. But I gotta say, where I live, not many restaurants are open past 10 p.m. I think there's something very good about staying up late socializing. With children On week nights. How do they do it?

Experiencing and observing cultural differences are among the many marvels of international travel. 

I could write another post about time spent with Chris in more northern regions of Chile, after Chelsea left to honor work contracts. I want to do this, because it was such a great time having him show us places and introduce us to people who were important to him as he formed his plan to be a pro kayaker when he left Oregon almost 13 years ago.

But what happens with blogging-as-fun is that life gets in the way. Our Patagonia experience has been over since late January. Other remarkable, to me, anyway, stuff has gone down and I'm about to begin a series of river trips and other adventures. Not to mention a return to gardening, which I'm feeling pretty sweet about these days. After much ambivalence. 

I'm grateful to be alive.

Thanks  for reading.

Earlier posts about our South American travels

1. Around Cape Horn - Happy 2018!
2. Ushuaia, Patagonian peat moss, and a polar plunge
3. Patagonian Paradox - the more you see, the more you want
4. Penguin drama - #1 attraction near Punta Arenas, Chile
5. Magellan was a mean SOB
6. Millennials take the lead. Boomers traipse behind.
7. Valle Cochamo' and a cool eco lodge
8. On the trail south in Patagonia - to a really twisted wicked hike

Valle Cochamo' - a private park in Patagonia

South America adventures 2018 - Episode 7
Email subscribers, please click on blog title for a better viewing experience.

Some say that Patagonia's Cochamo' Valle park, the first major stop on our road trip, is reminiscent of Yosemite National Park. Photo credit - Chelsea Behymer

We awoke in the Puerto Varas hostel, not exactly refreshed.

The kerosene fumes that about did me in the previous day had left the building, but we'd stayed up past midnight trying to hammer out an itinerary that included making reservations. Old people like to know where they might lay their heads the next night. 

The millennial people.....not that interested. But trying hard to accommodate.

PK and I were still giddy about a couple weeks on the road in Patagonian with our son and his partner, Chelsea Behymer. (I'm restraining myself from typing a row of !!!). The serendipity involved for this to occur sounds made up, but it is a true story.

Patagonia comprises the southern-most parts of Chile and Argentina. We traveled in Chile only. The terrain, unlike most of Patagonia, was cool and damp rainforest. 

Regarding accommodations, we were looking at Airbnbs, lodges and hostels. As we began our two-week journey, we had three nights booked. That was it. And also a ferry ride or two planned, I think. At least we were set for the next couple of nights.

But first things first. Trip food.

It was rainy and cool as we stopped at a supermarket on our way out of Puerto Varas. December through February is high tourist season in Chile, like summer in the USA. Most tourist areas were crowded, and traffic and parking were ridiculous in urban areas. As were scoring restaurant seating and negotiating 20-foot long lines at the supermarket.

Never mind. Our goal was to a get outta town into the wilds of Patagonia without having to hunt and gather.

We left the market with a cardboard box stuffed with salad fixings, a little salami and prosciutto, fruit, cheese, bread, peanut butter, coffee, cream, and Chilean wine. The basics.

At this lunch stop, we were reduced to mostly peanut butter. Did you know it's good with veggies and stale chocolate chip muffins? Chelsea is helping Chris dress up a carrot.

We used that same cardboard box the entire trip, avoiding as much packaging and plastic as possible. Chile is committed to recycling and conservation in a big way. But the country is not likely as committed as our traveling companions, who never intentionally buy plastic bags or plastic almost-anything.

Reuse, buy used, waste nothing.

Traffic thinned the farther away we got from Puerto Varas, and soon we were on a gravel road carrying us into the wild Patagonia I had imagined.

En route to Cochamo' we saw two young guys hitchhiking at a sharp curve along a snaking
narrow road, no shoulders, no place to pull off to pick them up. 

And who picks up hitchhikers, anyway? Chris does.

He depended on hitchhiking when he first traveled in Chile 12 years ago and "people picked me up all the time."

He jumped out to rearrange our super-sized luggage, gear and groceries stuffed under a bluetarp in the pickup bed. Space was tight, but the hitchhikers whooped at getting a ride.

Turns out they were headed to the same place we were: Valle Cochamo'.

TRANSLATION  - PLEASE READ THIS INFORMATION AND RESPECT THE INSTRUCTIONS
The Cochamo Valley is not a park or Public Reserve. From here to the border the trail passes through private property. To be able to visit, enjoy, and maintain good relations with the landowners, it is very important to respect these rules and stay on the trail. 

Like numerous parks in Chile, Cochamo' is private. That doesn't mean it's a club with
exclusive memberships, or that it costs big bucks to visit, but that the property owner takes
care of it and wants to share its beauty.

According to an August 2013 United Nations study, an impressive 308 private parks now exist throughout Chile, covering more than 1.65 million hectares (4 million acres), with more than half in the southern regions of Los Lagos, Magallanes and Los Rios. More  striking, over 200 of the parks are led by individual owners and some 60 percent are small private parks of less than 200 hectares (50 acres). From the Patagon Journal article Private Parks on the Rise, Summer 2014 issue. 

We visited several private parks, even one with a visitors' center that charged a $10 entry fee.
Cochamo' was free to hikers, but charged $15 a night for tent camping.

We stayed two nights at Campo Aventura along the Cochamo' River not far from a trailhead leading to a hanging valley six miles uphill. Once in the valley, numerous other trails provide access for campers and climbers. The large body of water on this map is a bay. The Chocamo' River is close enough to the ocean to be affected by tides.

SSpeaking of the Cochamo' River, it was just a few steps from the sweet cabins we rented for $20 a person per night, including a homemade-everything breakfast.

Of course our companions were compelled 
to take a dip in the snowmelt stream, which 
they did most days depending upon the 
presence of cold, clear water that did not
require negotiating life-threatening access.

Chelsea gloating, following a polar dip, about her foresight to grab
 a robe from the cabin, a surprising perk for a minimalist accommodation.
And a minimalist person.
.

View looking up the Cochamo' River near Campo Aventura.

To reach the cabins at Camp Aventura, we crossed a swinging bridge
and passed through a sheep pasture.

Campo Aventura is rustic. The building on the right is a common area with a wood stove and sheepskin-covered seats for hikers to warm up. We used it to prepare and enjoy our usual dinner salad and a bit of vino. Well, quite a bit.

The next day Chris and Chelsea planned to hike to the hanging valley, six miles up, and camp for the night. However, they were advised that the camping was closed as more than 1,000 people had reserved spots. What?! A thousand? Well, in that case, who wants to camp? 

They decided to go up and back in one day.

PK and I knew we didn't want to do a 12-mile hike, but set off to walk as far as we could in a few hours on the only trail to the hanging valley. Roads do not exist in the park.

Mud was ankle deep in some spots.

Trail was a trench much of the time.

We decided that the next time we're there (and we do want to return) we'll hike and 
make reservations at the lodge up top. However, we won't be too proud to hire a horse to
pack in our stuff.

It was fun seeing horses crossing the crystalline snowmelt creeks. Hikers took the swinging bridges. Photo credit....Chelsea Behymer

One of numerous swinging bridges. Horses can't use them. 
Photo credit.....Chris Korbulic

Loved the madrone-like trees near the cabins.

Also loved....

Foxgloves and fuchsia TREES dripping with blooms,along the trail.

Horses and waterfalls along the road to the trailhead.

Playful banter between Mike Rock, the caretaker/manager at Campo Aventura, and a horse packer just returning from the mountain. In the small world department, Mike had lived in Ashland, OR, not far from our home, and had guided trips on the Rogue River. He's lived in Chile for 17 years and has no plans to return north.

This is a Chilean dish that the four of us shared at a restaurant in the town, Cochamo'. We'd seen families devouring huge plates at various locations, and decided to give it a try. Wouldn't order it again, but pichanga includes sausages, hot dogs, boiled potatoes, tomatoes, boiled eggs, avocados and mozzarella cheese. In the background, is what's left of the best crab dish any of us had ever tasted, a thick cheesy soup. 

On the right, the handwritten cheque for this meal, which included a beer and a bottle of wine. With tip included, the total is around $70 USD. 

Chile is not cheap!

 It is also not a Third World country. Chris, who has traveled around the world, including most of South America, says it's his favorite.

In a future post, I want to explore why.

And also take a quick look at other places we traveled during this trip: Argentina and Uruguay.

Coming soon... finding an accommodation the old-fashioned way, and tackling another challenging trail, this one in Parque Nacional Hornopiren.

Earlier posts about our South American travels

1. Around Cape Horn - Happy 2018!
2. Ushuaia, Patagonian peat moss, and a polar plunge
3. Patagonian Paradox - the more you see, the more you want
4. Penguin drama - #1 attraction near Punta Arenas, Chile
5. Magellan was a mean SOB
6. Millennials take the lead. Boomers traipse behind.