Sabbatical Outdoors

Perch. I call this a safe place to sit and take in the view. For Cleo, this is her spot in the truck. It’s pretty perfect how she chose to sit up here instead of crowd us at our feet. We have a handful of long drives on this adventure and we’d like to all feel like we have a little bit of space to stretch out our toes.

Moving on the road allows us to pick a single spot to take in multiple views:  a front row seat that moves us from state to state to state. We have driven through flatlands, across bridges and up mountains. Driving through the mountains is a special opportunity. We see giant trees bursting through the ground, clear water streams shimmering in the sunlight, and the clouds, we marvel at how they hang full around the rocky slopes as if they will burst any moment (photos taken near Butte, MT).

All seems to be begging for us to roam and explore and it makes us indecisive about what we should do next.

The same is true of the road signs. They all are trying to get our attention too. We just passed the exit telling us we can go to Glacier National Park if we want to pull off of our original route. We haven’t checked that off the list and here we are so close, we could. The kids point out a national forest campground and ask about staying. There is so much opportunity everywhere.  When in Mt. Rainier, we even had to choose against visiting Paradise and nothing about that seemed right.

Sometimes a perch gives you the time you need to take in your surroundings.. .to fully absorb where you are or where you want to go. But there are all sorts of distractions when you can sit and watch for a while. It can make you lethargic or worse yet, wrecked with indecision if you let it.

Having a course set is important because you know what you are aiming for. We told our kids what the plan was for our drive across the country from the beginning. However, being willing to wander can be equally important because it may lead you to reset your direction or better yet, lead you to make better plans. We make adjustments along the way as we discover new places. We also make plans for years well past this one in hope to see the things we could not see or come back to the places where we want to stay longer. The world is so big and we are only seeing slivers of it.  We need our kids to know this.

This front row seat has taken us to some pretty amazing views so my suggestion is find your front row seat in a space that can take you somewhere to remember.

Cougar Rock Campground at the base of Mt. Rainier is by far the prettiest campground we have experienced, aside from our favorite called Gros Ventre in Jackson Hole, WY.  It is the first on this trek where we are fully unplugged.  There are very few places I imagine now where there is no cell service and what a gift to ourselves.  Although we did not get nearly the time I wanted there to take in the trails, we made it nonetheless.  That’s part of the sacrifice of being on the road. We can’t do everything we want to do. Some places are just out of reach no matter how close you actually are.  The intent was to see the mountain and camp at its base which is exactly what we did, nothing more, nothing less.

We have difficulty estimating our time of arrival everywhere.  This is mostly due to it takes more time than we intend to do everything… to pack up, to stop for fuel, to get the dog to do her business.  Time is on our side for most excursions, but I had hoped we would feel it slow down at Cougar Rock.  We made a quick stop at the base camp store and bought up tshirts as if we had made the summit ourselves.

Our campground was about 15 miles into the park and what a pretty wooded spot.

Little feet (Parker) was pretty spent by the time we pulled in so hiking was not an option based on the feedback we got from others making their way off the trail.  Again, our Cleo was not allowed so I had to walk her back.

By the time I had returned, I had my family waving me down to the creek bed for a photo where they were set up with a clear view of the top of Mt. Rainier in our background.  Mission accomplished.  (Picture is of the river bed below Mt. Rainier because the actual photo described is being saved as a possible option for our Christmas card).

We were exactly on time for this moment of clouds clearing to have our family gather close to take the photo we had driven over 2,700 miles for.

I may not have had my hike, but I got my photo.

The National Park system is encouraging families to get out and explore this year.  If you have a fourth grader, you can show a pass you print out and the whole family gets in for free.  Of course, we did all of this after Tommy bought our membership online.  So, we call that a donation.

We often find out things after the fact.  We were excited to make it to Hurricane Ridge as we had been told the hikes were easy and there were 360 degree views of the area.  We saw silohettes of hikers on the edge as we drove up the 6,000 ft road, ready for our turn. We got out of the truck to make our first trek and there it is:  no pets allowed.  Learning this after we brought Cleo instead of leaving her in the kennel…we call this annoying.  The only helpful fact was learning there were bear in the area and we didn’t want to be in a position of deciding between our kids or our dog.  Depending on the day that could make for a tough decision.

Tommy kept Cleo the day before for us to do a waterfall hike so I took the shift today.  We took ourselves a selfie looking out over the ridge.

Then we discovered snow.  Cleo loves snow.  First thing she did was lay down flat to soak up all of the cold she could muster, then leapt and slid down the icy hill.

It’s a wonder to see sun and ice simultaneously.  The kids climbed up in shorts and made snowballs.  Deer grazed nearby.

It is a beautiful spot and despite we couldn’t take the trek all together, the tailgate provided a great perch for lunch.

Wilson wanted more than a memory for a souvenir…and it is right on the money..the mountains are calling.

Marymere Falls is our next excursion.  We take a windy road along the edges of Lake Crescent and the water is bright blue and clear.  Tommy has always loved the water It has a healing power to be near it.  Water sustains us.  Yet we are acutely aware of its ability to carve out these mountains around us.  Sheer gravity forces the water to push down over the sides of the rock and a slow carving takes place, a shaping of matter.

People come from all over to walk this path to the highest point.  While water is running down, we are climbing upward…moving against gravity with each step up.  We are grinding to the top only to watch the water cascade over the edge and find its way down to the smaller pools where we can touch and feel the cold run through our toes.

We marvel at how easy it look then realize, we can do the same.  We can give into gravity.  We don’t have to push against it.  We have the power within us to shape the world around us, not let it shape us.

It is something to be hard as a rock, stubborn and unmoving, but I hope we can all be more like water.  Fluid and gentle, yet channeling an energy and a force to change things around us when needed.

Life catches up with you.  Today we had plans but plans are meant to be broken.  Sleep always wins.  Even when you are in a place begging to be discovered, sometimes you have to hang up your hat and say we saw what we saw.  We are tired and we needed to give in to it.  Taking our time to leave camp (to take in Hurricane Ridge) and taking our time to stay at camp (not hitting the beach for a second round) was worth the rest we caught up on.  We want the kids to know slowing down can help you recharge.  Some days are designed to fall apart and that’s okay.

Days like this help you tidy up loose ends.  I even do the dishes outdoors.  Partly to take in the views, but more so to save on the water filling up in our tank since we don’t have full hookups here.  Yes, I just said that.

We have neighbors. Close neighbors.   They look like lifetime campers but they tell us they are first timers.  I’m still not so sure as we watch their boys gather wood to keep a fire going for a month.  My daughter says they say a lot of bad words…at least the dad does.  I tell her that’s what happens when you grow up.  You hear a lot more. You have to figure out how not to let it land in your space.  Their kids are super cute and curious so we look like a blended family  going for walks with our dog or our kids sharing smores at their campfire.  The girls play cards and have swapped addresses to become pen pals.  Good old fashioned fun.

Our other neighbors were trying to knock out as many National Parks as they could but pulled out early to go help with their father who had a fall.  A lone traveler took their spot, spending two days to rest from his tour up from Utah to the San Juan Islands.

We are all drastically different families doing the same thing but in different ways.  We are each extending our horizon to reach a new point of view.  Different is what it is…just different.  It does not mean one is better than the other.  It’s the simple truth.  We may be different but we share something big in common:

Adventure is a family value.

When we approach Port Angeles, we quickly see it is not a desirable destination.  Although second homes scatter across Lake Crescent nearby and the grand entrance to Olympic National Park is in its backyard, the small town itself is one of those places that needs rescuing with all of the closed shops and for lease signs. It is a launching pad for exploration but it is lackluster in charm.   I can’t imagine settling down and calling it home like our trailer park owners do in the Elwha area.

We were quick to find an area to lift our spirits that offered wide open views and spaces to explore.  Salt Creek Recreation Area did not disappoint.  We realize this is the place we should have camped.  It is an area worthy of making a move from where we are set up, but there is not a site available.  That’s the hardest part about camping -campers are just flat out organized and we are not.  We booked our entire trip about five weeks ago when we got the green light to miss a little football training.  The rest of the camping world mapped out their routes last year AND reserved their sites.

We have accepted we are lacking in the scheduling arena with three kids who are up to ten years apart.  We are stretched.  Even though we made major changes to be more deliberate and more focused, we can’t seem to do it all.  We even forgot the name of the camp we booked in Idaho to cancel it when the boys found a better option on their way out.  These campers facing the gorgeous water view of the Straight of Juan de Fuca have fueled us to try a little harder next time.

It took a little navigating around campsites to figure out where to access the beach, but WOW.  It truly feels like we are at the end of the earth.  

When the tide is out, anyone can walk across the sea stone and feel the slimy kelp, some of it shaped like octopus and scattered everywhere.   Hermit crabs and others creatures are left in crevices, pining for the water that has retreated. Clams stretch out like pavers across a new patio.  We are anxious to climb down and reach the beach and touch the Pacific Coast sand…a first for all of us.

Cleo goes wild for it and we quite literally cannot contain her excitement.

We spend the afternoon here with a picnic lunch and a kayak.  We launch each of the kids in the kayak for a little trip around the shallow waters.  Parker in particular looks like he could paddle out to the wide expanse and hit the deep water and never look back.  He was born for the outdoors…we aren’t ready to let him get that far yet but we have no doubt he would survive.

The tide keeps pushing its way back to us.  We are mindful of how the water keeps forcing us to hug the rocky cliff and our way down to the beach is now is fully submerged.   The tide comes back in and restores everything to its original form.  All of our tracks virtually gone, erased as the water washes across the sand. We give into nature’s ebbing and flowing and find a new way out, leaving the beach behind.   We shake the water and sand off our feet, feeling refreshed.  The hermit crabs and clams bask in the water washing back over them.  A clean slate for us both.