Retracing our steps we headed back to Clallam Bay at 9AM and 39F under partly sunny skies. We turned toward Neah Bay and took the Hoko River road towards Lake Ozette. Just then, the skies started to darken. By the time we got to the lake, it was torrential! We realized our raincoats and umbrella were not going to properly protect us for the 6 mile out and back in this weather.
My plan “B” was to drive back towards Forks and hope that it wasn’t raining as hard there. It was not; in fact, the partly sunny skies remained. So, I had heard about the town of La Push many years ago from a friend who helped build a highway bridge there. I did not remember any details, but I thought it was worth checking out since it was on the coast just a few miles west of Forks. What a fortuitous recollection!
The town is on the Quileute Indian Reservation, another fishing community having a protected marina and three large haystack rocks out in the bay. We strolled around the docks in the marina and took photos of the rocks and boats. After eating sandwiches in the truck, we left the marina for what is called “First Beach”, adjacent to the marina. The driftwood there was massive and plenteous! I am talking 4’ diameter logs 20’-30’ long by the hundreds, stacked 2 or 3 or 4 deep and maybe 20 yards wide along the shore, for miles! These must have come in before the breakwater was built. There were the typical root balls, but they were 6’-8’ diameter! Other smaller pieces were dwarfed into invisibility.
On the way into La Push, we had noticed signs marking trailheads to “Beach 3, and then, “Beach 2”. The weather was beautiful, so we thought a hike was next on the agenda. Oh my! More primordial forest to ponder and gaze upon slack jawed. This trail was not as undulating as the Cape Flattery, so there wasn’t the need for the many bridges we crossed there. It was nicely maintained especially on the descent to the water, where a sturdy staircase was framed along the ground and filled with pea gravel. What a job that must have been!
The forest was darker somehow compared to yesterday with more recent tree falls whose root balls were still covered by the dirt they lived in for over 100 years. The rainfall is a blessing and a curse. The trees get plenty of water, but don’t have to dig a tap root for it.
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As a result, they can become “blowdowns” after reaching great heights. Imagine the sound (that no-one hears) made when a 250’ tall, 10’ thick behemoth comes crashing down bringing many other neighbor trees with it!
The pungent smell of earth and mushroom and decay was dominating the olfactory spectrum. Was it the decay of death or the scent of fecundity? Or, isn’t it both? It is all happening simultaneously: birth, life, death.
Arriving at Beach 2, we found the beach was covered by more large scale driftwood. Luckily, the tide was out so we could maneuver over the logs and find a patch of sand here and there. Never walk on these wood piles when wave action can suddenly rearrange the pile; you might lose a limb, or worse!
The sun was shining in the partly cloudy sky but it was beginning to cool as afternoon waned. So, we took some photos and headed back up and down to the truck. We wanted to buy some smoked salmon from the natives. Following the signs into a residential neighborhood; a nice fellow named Tom met us at his garage door and apologized for being out of fish. But, he pointed across the backyards to his brother’s house. He said he’d call him to let him know we were on our way. Jerry (no kidding!) was coming out the door with a box full of vacuum packed smoked fish. We bought 4 fillets for $20 and went on our way!