After New Mexico and Arizona, we drove two long days, without tourist stops, on our way to Washington and the Olympic Peninsula (OP). Of course Utah, Idaho and Oregon have their own pleasures, but we’d focused our itinerary on some key destinations like the OP and its temperate rain-forests (with a side trip to Victoria BC). Besides, we were also due in Tacoma at a weaving conference my wife would attend. The contrast between high desert and rain-forest re-energized our tourist hunger.
With Seattle and Tacoma as our base (cheaper — and more easily available — hotels), we first set out counterclockwise, north then westward on Rt. 101, the ring-road around the OP. Dining opportunities were one major draw. With Hood Canal (below) oysters and clams and Dungeness crab from the Strait of Juan de Fuca to choose from, you too can fulfill your devotion to terroir with fresh and local cuisine, especially if good seafood is at all your weakness.
Along Rt. 101 we passed through Sequim WA (locals say”Skwim”), which now ranks with Tucumcari as one of my favorite U.S. place-names, and a contender for an innocent word that nevertheless sounds suggestive. Dosewallips runs a close second or third. (As anyone knows who lives in or has visited the UK, place-names there merit their own special category of oddness and delight: as a random sampling, Dorking, Icknield Way, Dalwhinnie and Hail Weston do no more than scratch the surface. Check out the comprehensive and searchable Dictionary of British Place Names).
One of Sequim’s claim to fame, given its unique climate, is lavender farming. Though within crow-flying distance of rain forest with 12 feet (3.6 m) of rain per year, Sequim often sees no more than 16 inches (41 cm). As they tend to do world-wide, the mountains here dominate the weather, with the ocean-facing west slopes capturing the bulk of the precipitation, leaving the lea-side much drier. Image credit: Sequim WA lavender field
Rt. 101 hugs the south shore of Lake Crescent starting some 15 miles west of Port Angeles (jumping-off point for a ferry ride and day-trip — or longer — to the lovely Victoria, BC) and is a beautiful spot to explore, too.
But the lovelier leg of the trip, we felt, came the second day, clockwise this time, heading west out of Tacoma, again on Rt. 101, but this time north around the western reaches of the OP.
In the southwest OP, Rt. 101 curves inland up a fjord-like glacial channel into the mountains of the Olympic National Forest, revealing the jewel of Lake Quinault. The Quinault Indians (most “Native Americans,” we were told repeatedly, apparently prefer the older name) are another tribal group that’s survived into the 21st century.
On the lake’s south shore is a fragment of relatively unspoiled rain forest.
Below, in best tree-hugging mode, I give myself a visual reminder of how large so many of even the “average” trees are. Here we walked among many Greenhenges.
Ferns thrive, too, in the wet climate.
Everywhere you look is lush and replete with delicate mosses.
One sign explained how fallen giants serve as “nurse trees” for the next generation.
Such signs become quickly redundant with scenes like the one just below.
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I’ll close with several more images from the forest. The final three form a forest triptych: the crown of the great Sitka spruce and its whorled trunk.
A Druid Way 
