CCCC: Days 32-37 Olympic NP, Seattle

Day 32 – Olympic National Park north entry

Three of us went along Hurricane Ridge to the top and had a picnic lunch.

After dinner, the two of us headed for some ice cream and found a place with mix-ins like Cold Stone / Marble Slab. Our pre-packing for a travel day was set to the soundtrack of huge waves crashing into the shore of the cove.

Day 33 – Port Angeles WA to Quileute WA

What a shitty day.

• The 1pm checkout (and 1pm checkin) was great. But because a bridge is out, we had to take the other road. This would have been great in a little sports car on a pretty day, but with our rigs, we all found it quite stressful. It’s very twisty and bumpy and doesn’t let you just drive even for a minute.
• There are two campgrounds with the same address only about 20 minutes apart. At least we learned that in geographical order instead of the reverse. It must happen a lot because the number on the wrong one rings the right one.
• When we did finally get to our campground, it got worse. They have added on to this park, so there are two entrances. We didn’t have enough information to know which one to use, so we chose poorly. So did our friends (They got stuck for a bit and encountered a Huge Irk when they were trying to slalom their way out of a forest).
• We get to our campsite and find some Ass Whole’s third car parked mostly in our space. A staffer came up, so we just told him and he knocked. Ass Whole got out and moved the car, but my gawd he was clearly not happy about it. After I was alone and unhooking the Jeep, he tried to start a conversation with me.
  • First, don’t distract someone setting up (or loading out), and
  • Second, why did you wait for my husband to go back inside the rig? Do you also have a third* asshole, Ass Whole? (*one for pooping, one for his personality, and one for being creepy)
• The site the car was from was disgusting. Kids toys and clothes, including their underwear, were scattered all about. ew.
• I was about to guide our rig into our spot when I found a kid’s shoe. Its mate was in Ass Wholes’ campsite, so I lobbed it a couple of feet over there. I also found a spoon and did the same. He comes back out (we’re still backing/parking the rig) and asks me if I thought it was their’s. I said yes, explained the shoe-and-mate, and motioned to their disgusting site. He explains that “other people camped there before you,” said it wasn’t theirs, and tries to hand it to me. I didn’t take it, so he threw it on the ground by our power/water post.
• After we got backed in and went inside, I put the reflectix pieces in all the windows on that side and our liberal/pride stuff (a.k.a. Bigot Repellant) on the dash. I don’t want to hear or see them at all. I’d far rather look at the poop chute attached to the rig on the other side of us.
• Our four+some gathered up to find food. On the way, we remarked that this is the only place where we felt the need to ensure all our doors were locked. The staff here are great, but the guests are pretty gnarly.
• At the only open restaurant, I asked about the California Creamin’ ale, and our server said it was “light.” Dude. It was a vanilla cream ale. Lead with that. I like them, but this was with my burger and clam chowder. My burger was good, even if the server was rude when I ordered it medium rare. Strike Two, buddy. The clam chowder was very odd, and not just because of the vanilla ale. It was more like a broccoli cheese dill soup, but with clams. This is their only constant soup, so I was surprised it was so bad. At least his fries were good. Surprisingly, so was his gumbo, even way up here.
• Our four+some ran a couple of errands. I found myself strangely comfortable in the main aisle of an Ace Hardware, in a camp chair, next to a fire pit. Turns out, we were all pretty comfortable there. No one really wanted to go back to the campground.
• We are in “Twilight” land. It’s pretty bad, even all these years later. I said it was bad like Fifty Shades bad. We decided to write a really bad book and see if we can get a movie option. We have our protagonist and his job. Naturally, we went with a vampire, so I suggested that’s he’s the CEO of a sunscreen company with a line that sparkles. The company has that has branched out into sun shirts, parasols, and hats. We just need a story.
• When we got back, we met some people parked between us and our friends. We met them because of their unleashed dogs. grrrrr (so to bark). While chatting, she mentions that she knows Ass Wholes’ on the other side of us. I don’t ask her if she know’s he has three assholes, but she offers up his name. I shit you not, he’s Harley Davidson. He has a daughter with the same name. The kids are his grandkids; I’m guessing their names are Throttle, Leathers, Hawg, and Pumpkin.
• It’s also super stormy, but in a dreary and stressed-to-the-point-of-crying kind of way. (Despite the day, I’m not that stressed. That’s just how it looks outside.) At least we are on the Tsunami Evacuation Route.

Day 34 – Olympic National Park rainforest and Tree of Life

Our four+some took a walk in a rain forest. Olympic has a great one. It was a little bit crowded, but manageable. We got some great pictures. We even found a table for a picnic lunch.

Next, we drove over to the coast to see the Tree of Life. It was an odd beach with very gray sand, a deep beachfront, and an inconsistent pattern of waves.

After a couple of errands, our four+some hit a local spot for some snacks and beer….and then we closed it down at like 8:30pm. Ahhhh small towns: little charm and bad hosts.

We spent our evening writing, editing, planning tomorrow’s drive, and prepping for the travel day. Our soundtrack for the evening was:

• Party Camp by the Yelling Drunks
• “Bruno Bruno Bruno Come” by the Bad Dog Parents
• Fireworks Near Propane by Gonna Kill Us All
• Fog-oh Horn-oh by The Invisible Lighthouse
• The grand finale piece was Loud Waves Crashing by Into The Shore.

Day 35 – Quileute to Gig Harbor

OMG at the vile people here! As we were leaving to pull out of the campground, a semi was blocking the whole parking lot and exit with a delivery. He went to talk to him and got blown off, so he popped inside to talk to the clerk. She asked us to drive around, but since we had already run the tree slolam, he declined. She said she’d take care of it. Suddenly, the delivery guy is literally running his dolly down the ramp of his truck, into the store, and back up his ramp. She lit a fire under his ass.

After we were freed from our prison, we drove on yet another non-stop twisty road. I’m ready for boring, please.

At our unattended gas stop, we found more problems including a truck one. The younger couple ahead of us couldn’t seem to get fuel. When we got to the pump, we discovered it’s the old kind where you lift the lever where the handle had been sitting. We figured they didn’t know to do that. We get gas and it cuts us off at $75.00. Getting cut off isn’t unusual; many stations have that. $75 is pretty low, but whatever. We try again. We get a few cents worth each time before it cuts off. The other pump was the same. We have enough to move on, but we can’t leave because of another truck. This was the tanker. I guess the pumps were acting funny because they were nearly out of fuel. We finally squeeze out of the pump spot and our friends pull in behind us to get diesel. At least this driver was nice. He pointed out to our friends that with the rise in the pavement, their second air conditioner won’t clear the awning. They thank the guy and weasel out backwards. We are still stuck. The only way out was up the hill forcing us to drag the BlueOx that tows the Jeep. One of the fail safe cables is now nearly cut in half. A whole lot bad would have to happen in a very short time for us to need that cable, so we are running without it for now.

Someone from the campground called us while we were driving in (grrrr. Don’t call people you know are driving to the campground. My phone was yelling directions in my ear and I couldn’t hear her anyway.) Everything she needed to say could have been in an email (and was since I told her we were driving.) She and the rest of the staff were very nice, but this is unreasonable and could be unsafe. And then, we were only a couple of minutes away, so we checked in normal, anyway.

We were not near our friends.  I hate the way campgrounds are doing this. They already ask us our length and how many slides we have, so just assign us based on that. If we ever camp with friends again (we totally would, but the timing just might not work), we are going to book two sites for us all at this campground, and then let them book two sites for us all at the next campground. That should keep us together. Campgrounds need to stop with the musical campsites. I get that they have a puzzle to arrange, but beyond dates/lengths, it’s mostly a ploy to get more money out of us for “locking in” our campsite. We don’t need certain sites of our type; we just want to be with our friends who booked at the exact same moment we did. And, unless you’ve been to that campground, you won’t know a good site from a bad one anyway. This campground also has camp spots right by the entrance, so of course we have one of those (and children playing tag or chase through our spot despite being backed into a wall; ::sigh::) For a Sun Outdoors “resort” and at their prices, it should be a better experience. 

We planned a date night and on our way, we got to see a sunset-lit Mt Rainier
and July’s full Buck Moon rising.

Day 36 – Chihuly, Seattle

What a waste of a whole Saturday. We had plans to go to the Chihuly Gallery & Garden. After we paid the bridge toll, I realized I had forgotten the new camera. “Oh well” — it was NOT worth going back through the little streets of Gig Harbor and waiting in line again for the toll/bridge.  A wreck near the Tacoma Dome–which really should be named Tadoma—made this one-hour drive into Seattle two hours. Then, once we were finally there, traffic was the very worst we’ve ever had in any city for any reason Aaaaaannd parking was $50. In addition, it was hot as balls and there was no shade and no air conditioning anywhere we could find. While Chihuly was great, it’s pretty tiny. They don’t control the crowd size at all (which is a problem since it’s on a combo ticket with the Space Needle next door), making it nearly impossible to get good pictures. You can’t even get away from people even just a little. It’s supposed to be a one-way route, like Ikea, but they don’t enforce that, so people are rude. One guy nearly took out a woman in front of us because he couldn’t be arsed to open the other door. Even the gift shop was weak; I’ve never seen a gift shop that doesn’t have xmas ornaments, but this would have be a no-brainer for them. Finally, the exit is at the entrance. It was a 3/10 with all three points for the experience going to the artist.

I’m glad we went because I’d be mad at myself if I didn’t make the effort. But if I had known all of this, we’d have skipped it. We saw more of his work a few years ago at The Arboretum in Dallas and in a relaxed and comfortable setting.

After the gallery, we hit up a cafe for water (and water with grains). It had no AC, a rude host, and it was loud and hot, but at least we could sit and hydrate. They did have funny stickers everywhere. Then, we found the Center for Wooden Boats, which was both free and pretty cool. Some boats were old and historic, some were newer but for sale, and some were being hand built. There was even an Indian wedding in the largest building on the docks, so we got to see the decor post-ceremony as well as the bride and groom in full Indian wedding regalia posing for portraits.

Back at the rig, we did a couple of loads of laundry, talked with our friends about Sunday (mutually canceling the long-ass drive to Mt Rainier in favor of just brunch plans), and crashed early.

Day 37 – sadness, brunch, and submarines

We awoke to the news that Joe Biden withdrew from the race. I’m very sad. I don’t think he has the juice left, but I’m now terrified for my own safety–and that of all women in the US–even worse than before. I just don’t think the population will like Kamala Harris enough. She’s got two strikes against her just for existing. I hate that racism and bigotry have become a platform for any party. The GOP needs to get gone.

Our brunch ended up being amazing. The first place we picked had a 45-minute wait and refuses to take reservations or call-ins for the wait list. (OMG just get an app like everyone else.) So, we went to the place our friends had dinner the night before. The brunch menu was enough different that they were happy to return and my Crab Cakes Benedict was amazing. All of our food was, actually. The view was also grand; we had a full wall of windows looking out over the harbor from which the town is named.

We needed to run a couple of errands, and he found us a submarine museum to go see, so we drove up to that and worked our way back south.