In the beginning of August, we embarked upon a three-day backpacking trip on the South Coast Route in Olympic NP. It was our first backpacking trip without carrying 10+ pounds of neoprene, canyoneering gear, and ropes. I felt light as air! Thank you to our friend Iris for selecting the route and managing all the logistics and permits. Iris is working at Olympic NP this summer and is doing a lot of backpacking all over the park!
We began our hike rather late in the day, due to creeping lateness and the fact that every single road in Washington is under construction this summer. By the time we set up the shuttle, it was 4:30 in the afternoon. We hiked down a lush, forested trail starting at Third Beach. Right away, I spied a clump of mushrooms growing out of the stem of a tree! I am not talking about shelf fungus. These were normal mushrooms that should be growing in the soil but had decided to take up an arboreal life instead. We also made a few stops to admire the huge banana slugs that are native to these forests. Our leisurely five-mile hike included an introduction to the South Coast’s wooden ladders, often accompanied by fixed ropes as handholds, which serve as the conduits between the forested cliffs and sojourns along the beach.
Right around seven, we made it to the Scott Creek campground and set up our camp right on the beach. We got to watch a glorious sunset, most likely enhanced by state-wide smoke in the upper atmosphere. Fortunately, the air in the Olympic Peninsula was wonderfully clean that week, so we got crystal clear views of the sea stacks and bald eagles. When we packed our 40-degree sleeping bags in Utah, we naively thought that surely they would be plenty warm for Washington in August. Well, we were wrong. It got down to about 50 degrees at night and our proximity to the water caused anything on the ground to be drenched in dew. Combine that moisture with cool sea breezes and the effective temperature was way lower than 50F. Max and I spent quite a chilly night in our bug bivies with no walls or protection against the elements. This caused quite a lot of grumbling in the morning. Max probably would have made a run for our destination if tide charts had not effectively locked us into two nights on the coast. As things stood, we had a leisurely breakfast, tried to dry out our sleeping bags and began our hike down the coast when the sun came out.
The Olympic coast is absolutely gorgeous. Sea stacks erupt from the waves in all shapes and sizes. Many have mature trees and vegetation growing above the water line. Eagles, great blue herons, gulls and other seabirds are abundant, feasting on delicious clams, mussels and crabs. Shells are strewn all over the sand as proof, including some of the largest and most beautiful mussel shells I have ever seen. Much of the hike along the beach can be done with bare feet, which is what Iris chose to do. After several miles of easy walking, we approached a sad spectacle: a dead young humpback whale carcass decomposing right on the beach. It was a tragic and smelly sight.
We came to the end of the longest beach section and found another steep ladder to climb up the cliff. From there we entered a veritable jungle of huge spruce trees, alders, giant salal bushes, and sword ferns. After following a trail for a while, we came to a stream crossing where we had lunch. While we were eating, a large family came from the opposite side and proceeded to remove their clothes in order to cross the thigh-deep creek. It was then our turn to change into shorts and take off our shoes and socks to cross. We followed the trail and braved several more ladders before reaching Mosquito Creek, which was going to be our home for the night. Once again, we removed our shoes and socks to cross the knee-deep Mosquito Creek, which drains furiously into the ocean. On the other side, Shawn and Max immediately lay down for a siesta in the sun, while Iris and I hiked up the cliff to inspect the campground and stake our spots. We decided that a night sheltered in the trees would be much warmer and drier than at the beach.
An hour later, we persuaded the gentlemen up to the campground to set up camp and have dinner. The campground was filling up with people who had tried going to Mt. Rainier and other locations but relocated due to wildfire smoke. Mosquito Creek certainly was living up to its name with swarms of blood-seeking mosquitos circling us hungrily. Shawn calmly produced a tiny vial of 100% DEET, which scared us more than the mosquitos. Most of us opted for the more natural bug dope that I brought made with botanicals, which surprisingly worked pretty well.
After dinner, we wandered back down to the beach for another incredible red sunset. It was getting cold, so I volunteered to go back up to the campground and get our jackets. I arrived at camp with not a moment to spare. A giant banana slug was heading right for Max’s bivy, which was open with all of his camping gear drying out on top! That would have been a very slimy night if it had succeeded. I found two sticks that I was hoping would work to gently derail our guest. Sadly, it was very intent on heading right through camp in a straight line. I had to pick it up and place it out of the way, which was a messy process as it kept falling out between the sticks and was covered in needles by the time I dropped it behind a log out of the way. I felt very guilty for treating it so poorly, but all I saw when I checked on it later was a trail of slime heading into the woods, so I know it wandered off. I’m sure it is still telling all of its friends about the night it was abducted by aliens and repeatedly bounced all over the campground.
I am happy to report that our second night in the woods was much warmer and more pleasant than the first night on the beach. We began the night bundled in various layers inside our sleeping bags, but gradually had to remove them due to overheating. We woke up slime and bug-free, but very early as we had to leave by 7:30 to make a narrow point crossing at low tide, which was at 11:15 that day. We hopped back on the forest trail and started hiking uphill. The forest was once again full of huge spruces, a rare sight in Washington. Several of the trail segments wandered through very dense thickets of young trees, forming a dark and creepy tunnel, which gave way to more exuberant green jungle. We began descending a sequence of slopes and ladders so steep that I was sorry I didn’t bring my harness. One of the slopes had a handline guiding us down what would normally be a 40-foot rappel in slippery mud. Then, with mud-coated shoes we descended two staircases so steep that we had to climb backwards on all fours, holding on to the steps above and/or a fixed line where available.
We reached to the crossing point at 10:30, right on time. The tide was going out and almost at the lowest point. We encountered two hikers coming from the opposite side, so we knew that we would be safe to cross. The crossing consists of several stages, with the first being the most arduous. The low tide exposes a jumble of boulders, covered in barnacles and algae, along with sea stars and tide pools. There is about a mile of boulder hopping from one rock to the next, with some downclimbs and general ad-hoc navigation. Fortunately, the boulders were covered in barnacle shells, making them very grippy and very easy to cross. Even at low tide, some of the boulders were just on the edge of ocean waves coming in against the rocks. We managed to keep our feet dry and make it past this narrow section of rocks to a wide beach with huge tree stumps resting high on logs and rocks. One last boulder field led to the final section of beach. Here we found a trail heading to the Oil City trailhead where we’d parked our car two days before. We came out right at noon, dreaming of a burger and fries and a hot shower.
This is a great and mellow backpacking trip if you want to spread it out over three days but can also be done as a single overnight if the tides allow or if walking north. Most importantly, don’t forget to check the tide charts when planning which direction to go!
