Sunday, September 22
Rain, rain, go away! I sit inside the Best Little Trailer with the crew as I listen to the rain on the roof. We’re camped at gorgeous Crescent Lake. I’m waiting for a break in the weather so we can leave the BLT in the campground and go out to Neah Bay and the Makah Indian Reservation.
I want to hike the trail to see Cape Flattery and Tatoosh Island.
I want to go to the long house museum and dine on fresh seafood at The Warm House Restaurant. I want to camp next to Shi Shi beach, I want to . . .
Hey, look at the dadburn weather report, woman. Not only are you not going to get what you want, you’d better run for your life!
Well, maybe that’s being overly dramatic . . .
The fact is we’re parked amid scores of humongous trees and a windstorm/rainstorm is on its way. After much consideration I realize we have to get out of this Fairholm Campground before nightfall!
We’re already hitched up, so it’s not long before we’re on the road.
Rain varies from torrents to drizzle to torrents. Visibility is low. I grip the steering wheel and lean forward trying to see what’s up ahead. Of course, everyone takes the poor driving conditions as an indication to drive very fast . . . logging trucks, big RVs, what have you . . . fast, fast, fast.
I head west.
I hope we can spend the night at one of those RV parks that are not much more than a field with NO TREES. After about ten miles or so, a wind gust shoves the PTV and the BLT sideways. Not far, but far enough to make my heart skip a beat. Son of a b*#&ch! I’m driving us into the storm!
Okay. Do I want us blown off the road or head-on into a high-speed logging truck? Or would I rather take a chance a tree will fall on us?
I go back to Dead Fall Campground. In heavy rain I back us into a site and run around in the rain to level the BLT. I pray no wind gusts knock down any of the trees leaning ominously around the campsite. It rains on and off all night long . . . and this is the kicker: No wind! Absolutely no wind. So where’s the big, gusty, scary wind? Huh, you lousy weather forecasters? Huh? Huh?
Monday, September 23
Although my faith in weather forecasters is gone with the wind, I read several reports online. Rain, thunder, lightening, earthquakes, massive glacial movement, tsunamis, typhoons, hurricanes, wayward comets, crashing asteroids and all sorts of calamities are predicted for Neah Bay and Cape Flattery, because I want to go there. Well, maybe not all those things, but enough to nix my plans.
I can’t sit around and wait. This rain might not stop for weeks. Darn! What a disappointment!
Once again, the crew and I pull out of Fairholm Campground.
At least it’s not raining this morning. We follow Highway 101 west through the valley of the Sol Duc River. We cross several bridges due to the meandering river. The clouds part and the sun shines through! I put Cape Flattery out of my mind. I don’t want to know if it’s a beautiful, sunny, clear day there.
With each passing mile, my disappointment turns to anticipation.
I turn onto Route 110 to go to Mora Campground.
Although it’s another rainforest campground, I find a site with an opening in the treetops. Ooh, this is pretty! Sun for the solar panel! I check the air card… four bars and I haven’t put up the antenna yet! I back the BLT into position (Yay! No leveling needed!) and unhitch. This is a very nice campground and, gee, we’re the only ones in this loop. Now doesn’t that break my heart . . .
Off we go to Rialto Beach!
It’s only two miles from the campground. What a beach!
The tide is moving in quickly. A guy with a camera ventures close . . . gee, ya’ better watch out, buddy . . . . He jumps back and sprints, almost caught by a “sneaker wave.”
That is, if it doesn’t rain!
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