From the Seas to the Trees

Katy Huddlestun

18 min readMay 24, 2022

Travels from the Rainforest, to the Coast & into the Desert

Day zero:

Jenny flew into Seattle. Explored around, took a water taxi.
Slept at a hotel.

Day one:

Katy flew into Seattle. We picked up our van.

Drove to Tacoma for lunch @ Katie Down’s. Saw a whale (likely a Grey Whale) surface, and then breach in the Puget Sound.
Stocked up on supplies.
Found a random campsite in someone’s yard in Olympia. Way up on a dirt road off the 101 with a cliffside campsite. On a clearer day we would have had a view of Mt. Rainier. I slept in the van’s rooftop tent. It was a cold night in the 40’s, but luckily no rain.

Day two:

Woke up to a cloudy morning sky on our cliff. Packed up my roof bed, toasted bagels in a pot & made coffee on the van’s gas stove. Drove towards Port Angeles. Stopped on the way at a rest stop so I could do a work call. Lots of tulips growing in the area with a snow-capped mountain backdrop. Pulled over at a beautiful blue river.

Arrived at Lake Crescent where we would start our hike of Mount Storm King. It was a 5.3 mile round-trip hike. From the shore of Lake Crescent to the summit, we climbed around 2,000 feet. The altitude was tough on my cardiovascular system, forcing a break after each successively steep incline. At points, I definitely thought I wasn’t going to make it. We passed beautifully moss-covered trees, some [what I now know are] manzanitas, as well as colorful succulents growing off the sides of the mountain.

Arriving at “the ropes section” of the hike, it got a bit treacherous and Jenny suddenly confessed her fear of heights (news to me!). The ropes were installed by our fore-hikers and lead us up the rocks shifting under our feet to the ridge, which led to a semi-flat area on the summit. Looking out over the rocky ledge, was a stunning view of Lake Crescent. Off in the distance, nearly invisible without focused staring in its direction, was a waterfall tucked into the tree-covered mountain.

A beautiful, large blue bird and a chipmunk were foraging for food in close proximity, so I of course imagined that they were friends out for lunch together. We also located dense swaths of rainbow colored succulents spread across the rocky summit. Many pictures were taken to be sent to my friend and plant-dad, David, since I knew he’d find them as awesome as we did. In researching this hike, we heard that the birds at the summit will land on you if enticed by food. Although I was skeptical of us being that luck, in seemingly no time, with an outstretched arm & a handful of seeds, one by one they darted toward us, landing softly on our palms with their pointy little talons. We stayed playing with the birds at the summit until the increasingly cold and stormy weather signaled it was time to make our descent.

Drove east around the top of the Olympic peninsula & down through Forks, WA. A stream of trucks hauling huge piles of logs passed us along the way, which got me thinking for the first time about where our lumber comes from. Of course I knew, but it was a different experience to actually see it with your own eyes.
We arrived at our campsite for the night (“Wild Coast Lookout”), which was on an elevated ledge right on the Pacific Ocean. With sunlight dimming, temperature dropping, and a constant drizzle (they call it “rain” here), Jenny made a salmon & vegetable dinner that we enjoyed with some wine. The waves in the Pacific roared and crashed, which made sleep ever more enticing after a long day of hiking and driving. As we drifted off, we heard a small rodent hard at work near the back of our van. Assuming with certainty that it was outside and of no concern to us, we slept.

Day three:

I woke up and ventured out of the van on a 45 degree drizzly morning to make coffee and investigate the activities of our evening visitor. Lo and behold, I noticed that some of our homemade granola bars had small holes in the corners of the paper wrapper. Looking further, there was clear evidence of the rodent having a late-night snack inside the back of our van. With his entry point unknown, we hoped he made his exit the same way, because we had places to go.
We backtracked slightly northward, driving into the Hoh Rainforest. Along the way there was evidence of “the season” ramping up, with accommodations being dusted off & repaired for the tourists who visit in large numbers during the approaching summer months. We also stopped at a picturesque ranch where cows grazed peacefully with a mountain view. Along the drive, we stopped at a beautiful vista of the glacial blue Hoh River.

Our hike that day was the Hoh Rainforest Trail, which can be taken all the way to Mount Olympus. (We kept straining to imagine having to hike 22 miles one way before climbing a 7,900 foot mountain). Our hike was a 6 mile round-trip hike through the Fern Gully-esque temperate rainforest. Birds chirped in what sounded like Morse Code. Moss and ferns covered nearly everything (and, I imagined, should one stay long enough — everyone).

The trail took us parallel to the Hoh River, but not directly to its banks. As someone who always feels pulled toward the nearest body of water, I suggested an off-trail detour on a down-slope through the forest and toward an opening to the river. After being hit with the beauty of the scenery through which the glacial river flowed, I scanned the area for bear, but finding none, I focused instead on finding paw prints in the black sandy riverbank. We saw, right where we stood, what was clearly some kind of animal droppings, but we were not sure whose. Just then, Jenny spotted and alerted me to a herd (10–12) of elk grazing directly across the river. We stood in awe of this surreal sighting for as long as the elk would allow, until one of the leaders let the others know it was time to slink back into the forest in a calm, single file line. Watching them disappear one by one, we turned and set off back through the forest to continue on the trail.

The ground was covered in pools of mud where we encountered three slugs: (1) a glittery, jet-black Licorice Slug, (2) a greenish-yellowish Banana Slug, and (3) a leopard-spotted looking slug that later research determined was another Banana Slug.

We could hear our turnaround point before we saw it, with the sound of a waterfall drawing closer. We explored it, as well as the other waterfall that was about a tenth of a mile further up the trail. The powerful veils of water originated beyond my sight way up in the mountains, flowing through the rainforest, and eventually merging forcefully into the glacial, ice-blue river. What beauty that water saw before and after our witnessing its consolidation into the melted snowcap river, I am still thinking about. Onward out of the forest in the afternoon we passed groups of hikers heading the opposite way, one of my favorite indications of good timing.

After our hike, we found one small accommodation that had opened up to catch pre-season visitors, offering both food & a shower — both of which were highly desired at that point. I used the shower opportunity to do a little laundry as well. Fed and refreshed — we hit the road again.
We drove along the jagged coastline with overlooks to the beaches below where the waves swelled up and crashed angrily. Passing through some small coastal towns, we arrived at Ruby Beach. The image of this beach was everything I imagined when we were planning this Pacific Northwest trip. Fallen logs strewn about the shore, rounded Pacific ocean style stones instead of sand, rock formations towering out of the ocean, and tumultuous water crashing, wave after wave — the creator of all the aforementioned. Walking around the rocks and across tidal pools, I also saw a stream coming out of the mountain cliffs, flowing into the ocean. It was fighting it’s way into the sea against the waves that were pushing against it. Something about that journey these mountain waters make — from the trees to the seas — just fills me the immense wonder of this insane world that we see and know so little of.

We had plans to be in Oregon the next day, so we drove south without a final destination for the night. Entering into a town called Hoquiam, its evening eeriness struck us both. There was not a person to be found as we drove amidst the dilapidated buildings whose best days were long passed. Highway 101 carried us into the also strange neighboring town of Aberdeen, where Kurt Cobain grew up and apparently remains its only claim to fame. We were too on-edge from the urban ghost town vibes to go in anywhere to eat, so sitting in a Dominoes parking lot, we ate pizza and tried to find a place to park for the night. After passing many of our “maybe” spots that looked like murder was an amenity, we found a little hideaway RV park in Montesano, tucked between the Chehalis River and Lake Quigg. The night was cold and rainy, but we slept good, waking up well past sunrise.

Day four:

Our country road drive that morning took us through river delta marshes and rolling hills where elk were seen on the sides of the road. Crossing the bridge over the Columbia River, we entered Astoria, Oregon. It was a cold, foggy, and rainy afternoon when we arrived, so we stopped into a bar for beer and poutine.

We continued south along Oregon’s Pacific Coast Highway despite the continuous wind gusts that had Jenny white-knuckling the steering wheel. Cannon Beach was our next stop. The weather was awful and there was no easy beach access, so we found a pull off on the side of the road and each took turns running down to the frigid, windy beach to see Haystack Rock. With wind gusts of up to 30 mph, I gripped the fencing next to me and took in the sight as long as I could stand, which was probably only 5 minutes before I ran back to shelter in the van. Jenny didn’t last much longer. While regrouping from our frolick into the tempest, a fluffle of wild rabbits (yes, that’s actually what they’re called!) grazed on a grassy hill next to us. Someone had laid out some carrots for them, which they enjoyed despite the cliché.

Nehalem Bay was our next stop and planned campsite. It was a beautiful State Park set back behind the sand dunes that rose up along the Pacific. It was, however, another cold and rainy evening, so the view was enjoyed only briefly while I scanned the vista, hoping for (but not receiving) a bear sighting atop one of the dunes. After a reheated pizza dinner, I was totally wiped out from the day and took a long nap that merged into an early night’s sleep. While I slept, Jenny was out doing yoga somehow out in the 40 degree gusty weather before she eventually came to her senses. On our way out the next morning, a family of elk were grazing, completely unfazed by us.

Day five:

We set off early the next morning, driving south along the PCH. The juztapostion of the different ecosystems and microclimates in this area continued to blow me away — rainforest hikes with snowcapped mountain views & then suddenly, pines next to the ocean. The weather seemed to get worse the further into Oregon we went. The only stop we made was for a beautiful waterfall we spotted along the roadside. Being next to something so naturally powerful is a humbling, slightly scary feeling.

We got into Portland in the late morning and brunch. Looking at the [terrible] weather forecast for the rest of our planned itinerary down the Pacific Coast Highway, we decided that we needed to craft our plan B. After several options for a reroute (ideas: Yosemite or just head east to the desert), we got in touch with our lifelong friend, Kani, who was in San Francisco for work. She offered to fly us out there and we figured we could rent a car and continue our adventure from there after by passing the bad weather further north. So we dropped off van, packed up our little home and darted off to the airport for a 5:45 pm flight out. Arriving late that night, we slept in a bed for the first time in several days. Needless to say, we slept in.

Day six:

We headed into the city to pick up our rental car and meet up with Kani at the Ritz for brunch. We had a great time catching up and went for a drive to take her to a friends house in the East Bay afterward, passing over the San Francisco/Oakland bridge along the way. After saying our goodbyes to Kani, we drove counter clockwise around the bay, over the Golden Gate Bridge, and then southward down the PCH.

Our next destination was to catch the sunset at Big Sur, California, with a view of the famed Bixbi Bridge.
There really are no words for how beautiful a place that was. Luckily, we had it all to ourselves for the sunset. The winds were cold and whipping so we had to climb the cliff carefully, but the views we moved towards pushed all fears to the background. Gulls floating with the wind, the sun lighting up every rock and plant in its reach, and its eventual descent into the ocean. We stayed until dusk gave way to night.

Dinner in Carmel-by-the-Sea.
Drove to King City. Slept @ Days inn motel.
Woman knocked on door thinking we were “Gus”. Jenny had to use her deep voice.

Day seven:

Drove east on Hwy 198 (safari road) towards Coalina. Lots of animals. Desert, mountains, hills. Oil rigs.

Arrived at Sequoia National Park. Drove up the mountain. Visitor center. Hiked to General Sherman. Snow at the top of the mountain. Jenny almost froze her hands and feel off. Tree tunnel. Drove down.

Dinner at Tex/Mex place. Drove west toward the desert through mountain roads. More oil rigs.

Drove through California desert preserve area at dusk — saw joshua trees. One lit up with christmas lights.
Arrived at motel in Ridgecrest, CA.

Day eight:

Drive towards Death Valley.

Stopped at Ballarat Ghost town. Donkeys.

Death Valley — dunes (katy lost and then found her hat), bad water basin, natural bridge. Dinner at creepy western place.

Sunset drive to Artist’s Palate area. Dust/sand storm.

Hotel to chill.
Midnight drive to stargaze.

Day nine:

Drive out of death valley. Joshua tree fields. Star Wars canyon.

Long day driving (12 hrs). Detour due to traffic, trucks lined up.
Dinner at Chili’s.
Hotel in Palo Alto, CA.

Day ten:

Meet up with Gaby & Alina at Sanford campus for breakfast.

Drop off car, go to airport.
Somehow, someway, yet in classic me fashion, I missed my 1:00 pm flight home and had to stay at the airport all day in hopes of getting on a standby flight at 10:00 pm. Luckily, the San Francisco airport is super nice & I found a nice couch to sleep on. Even more luckily, I managed to get the only open seat on the last flight to Miami that night. Arrived home around 8:00 am.