Moments from the Olympic National Park
Exploring a diverse slice of PNW
Surrounded by the tall Douglas-fir trees, I trek on a trail which resembles a frame from the Temple Run game. It’s seven o’clock in the evening, and a thick veil of mist has blanketed the coast. A southerly wind is blowing at the point, and the ocean isn’t as turbulent as I thought it might be.
After a few minutes of patience, the weather begins to break just enough to highlight sublime views of the surrounding sea stacks. As I gaze into the vastness of the Pacific Ocean, I see seagulls, cormorants, what I thought might have been puffins, a few other birds, and best of all, many sea otters! I take a few more steps, and now I’m standing at the edge of the furthest Northwest point in the States, Cape Flattery, among the blooming flowers and earthy smell of the coast.
This corner of the world is one of the wildest and beautiful that can be found anywhere. Here one is sure to be transformed by this unique place known for its spectacular scenery and its primeval character.
It’s a remarkable world here — PNW’s appeal is found in its quiet, its diversity, its untouched beauty.
From the trail, I come back to the parking lot. I still have two more hours of a drive ahead of me. I kiss goodbye to the sunset, one of most beautiful golden sunset, which now I see in the rear mirror.
I arrive at the Rialto beach trailhead at eleven o’clock, and the perfect ring-shaped moon welcomes me alongside the crashing waves of the Pacific Ocean. I eat something and begin following the trail.
In the darkness of the night, the light from my headlamp is making the trees look alive, and they resemble some crooked shapes. Ignoring my thoughts, I keep walking and find an open campground to set up my tent. And, I take my camera out to capture this magic.
Next morning, I wake up to the smell of campfire and saltwater, hearing the seagulls and crashing waves. I rub my eyes in the hope of seeing a golden sunrise. But, morning on the West Coast is not a good idea. Fog is back and is slowly blurring all in sight. Yet, I try to make the most of this morning.
95% of the Olympic National Park is wilderness, and here the forces of nature predominate, and the earth and its community of life are untrammeled by mankind.
I pack my stuff and continue driving to the center of the Olympic National Park. Soon, I arrive at the Hoh Rain Forest, and I take a gentle hike to Hall of Mosses, the enchanted place I wanted to see for a long time.
It certainly transcends my expectations. Drenched in over 12ft of rain per year, west side valleys nurture giant western hemlock, Douglas-fir, and Sitka Spruce trees. Moss-draped bigleaf maples create a magical scene that obliterates all sense of time.
At Olympic National Park, diverse ecosystems invite explorations at a grand scale. The parks’ variety of life — its biodiversity — also provides strength and resilience for the future.
In my teenage years, I used to spent hours searching the internet for such images, and now as an adult, I’m living these moments in real. I’ve realized that our world encompasses so many worlds within it, just waiting to be discovered and experienced.
Olympic National Park is a wonderfully diverse slice of the world that I hope everyone gets a chance to experience. I’m physically back from another solo adventure in the wilderness and wishing to turn back the time.
In the end, I’ll leave you with these words which I felt during my trip-
What if your dreams weren’t just something you woke up from, but something you woke up to?
