Seattle :: Day 3 :: Driving...

Day three found us hopping a ferry in search of vampires and werewolves on the Olympic Peninsula.

OK.

Not really...but we were close to Forks, so it totally could have happened.  Then again, I suppose I was about as close to Forks that day as I'm as close to SanDiego when I'm home...I mean yes, I can drive there in a day...but do I have the time?

After landing in Kingston, we drove for miles until we hit Port Townsend.  Which was actually a 21 mile detour out of our way, but Port Townsend is one of my most favorite places in Washington and Claudine drove me all the way there so I could have a cuppa at my third most favorite coffee house in the world (that and I kept going on and on about it...so it could have been a defense mechanism...)

(My first favorite coffee house being Macys in Flagstaff, followed by The Caffe Florian...the oldest coffee house in the world who is situated in Venice Italy)

Port Townsend happens to be an epically wonderful Victorian town right on the tip of the Olympic Peninsula...which means you have forest all around you and then Canada right across the water.

Fabulous, no?

A 30 minute pit stop just for a cuppa.

Cause' that's how we roll.

Also?  The local architecture is off the hook.

Look at that pretty heart design (you can sort of see it) it's proof they love me too.

And then it was on to Hurricane Ridge.

Claudine had a few stops planned to make, but I think the guide she saw these places on was overestimating the amount of time we had...or underestimating the time it takes to drive between each of these locations.  You see, Washington while things are often close together in miles...are on very curvy roads so it takes twice as long to get where you're going.

Which is fine.

Unless you want to go to the Polar Ice Caps, The Rain Forest, and The Beach all in one day (while making a coffee detour and a stop to have lavender sorbet in Sequim...oh, and there's totally a road there called "Kitchen-Dick"  Um...yeah.  I would LOVE to have my address on that road!)

But we made it at least to Hurricane Ridge...and I just know that all those vampires and werewolves were just over the other side (that's where Forks is actually.)  Heck...we could have used a couple of vampires or werewolves and we could have climbed on their backs and they could have run us around to all the places we were trying to get to lickety split.

Maybe the guidebook should have mentioned that?!

Sheesh!

And we saw some awesome wildlife...

A mommy and baby deer.

Actually there were deer all over the place once you started really looking...

This is a picture of a mommy deer teaching a baby deer to lick the pavement:

I was all, "Hey!!  I got a great deer tongue in action shot!!  Oh gosh.  I hope that's not antifreeze!"

This is most likely why people look at me weird and move in a far different direction when I'm at a national park.

Well, except for The Grand Canyon...the Germans just try to push me in when I'm there.

After our 12 mile hike, and by 12 mile hike I mean 2 mile stroll...we went into the gift shop and browsed around.  There I found a book about a lady they found in a lake who met with foul play like a million years ago, but her body had been perfectly preserved in its cool Victorian clothing.  And now looking back, I wish I wouldn't have picked the book up because I can't get the whole thing out of my head.

Seriously.

The only links I can find look like this:  http://www.ladyofthelake.com/  And they're all cheery and pretty and you can have weddings out there, and all I can remember is all these horrible pictures of this poor woman they found all frozen.

I'm not sure what they're doing up there, but I may reserve my marriage for somewhere else thank you.

Why DO I do things like this to myself?

At any rate...as we were leaving we saw a sign posted on the door that announced there was an especially aggressive mountain goat in the area and if you saw it that you should yell and throw rocks at it.

Well good grief.

I hate to throw rocks at wildlife, and if it's particularly aggressive and it saw me throwing rocks at it and it heard me yelling, I would think that it would then know exactly whom it should express its aggression towards.

Although, it was cold up there due to all the glaciers so I'm sure that the run would have warmed me up, but I would have probably tripped over a deer or something.

The Pacific Northwest can sometimes be dangerous.

Apparently.

To be continued...