A Drive-Through Rainforest

You would think, given the time of year and our location, we would have done some research into what happens to cars in sub-zero temperatures. Rather, we decided to be intrepid (intrepid, not stupid) travellers and learn by experience. And so when we awoke on our last morning in La Push to find our car covered in ice, we thought ourselves surely intelligent enough to deal with the weather (something which you'll note we've had plenty of success with thus far). After some serious scientific experimentation the only progress we'd made involved carving humourous yet appropriate song lyrics onto the side of the car.

Ice Ice Baby

It took us half an hour of idling the car, running the windscreen wipers and pouring slightly warmer water over the windscreen before finally feeling brave enough to run the window heaters – we’d been scared of shattering the glass – and leave the car park. Leaving the Olympic Peninsula was desperately sad for the both of us, and we hope to be back there before too many years. The sunrise as we drove out was nothing short of spectacular – the sky was blue, and the horizon held masses of fluffy white clouds. As the relatively warm waves broke on the sand they spawned an almighty mist, which rose and rose before drifting back out to the ocean, obscuring the Quileute needles in an other-worldly haze. Magnificent.

Five or six hours south, Portland, Oregon, awaited us, but we took a detour along the way. America is a country built around the automobile - drive-through coffee, Dunkin' Donuts, ATMs, and a rainforest. Specifically, the Quinault Rainforest, surrounding Lake Quinault. A couple of days earlier we'd gone out to Hoh rain forest, which was quite spectacular. But, we had to get out and walk. I mean, really. Apparently a lot of the locals prefer Quinault, because Americans don't like walking, and the loop around Lake Quinault allows you to drive through this particular rain forest.

Hoh Rainforest

Quinault Rainforest

The most incredible thing about both was the contrast between the lush green that covered every surface and the burnt orange fall leaves that were equally abundant. The wildlife was also easy to encounter - we haven't hit a deer yet, but it's not for a lack of trying. We also found a bald eagle, but it was eyeing us off with murderous intent, and so we didn't hang around too long.

Evil Eagle

We eventually made it to Portland, but not before doing a scenic loop of the inner-city freeways and bridges. Daniel insists that he simply liked one particular bridge enough that he wanted to drive over it not once, not twice, but three times. I've been letting him think I believe him.

La Push

After three luxurious nights in Sequim we headed round to the western coast of the Olympic peninsula, to a small community called La Push, on the Quileute Indian Reservation. It's a tiny community - only 370-odd people live on the Res according to Wikipedia - but it's home to big beaches, big forests and even bigger trees.

A Very Big Tree

The tree above, on which I am standing and in which Daniel is standing, is driftwood - it actually washed up on First Beach and has since been pushed further ashore by the tail-end of the Japanese Tsunami. The beaches are covered in trees of various shapes and sizes, which have washed up over the years and now sit together in a tangle at the high tide line. Some are byproducts of the logging industry that dominates the area and would have fallen off trucks or the like. Others, possibly including the behemoth above, would have simply fallen off the cliffs into the ocean, whether from the mainland or one of the many rugged islands that are dotted along the coastline.

Rialto Beach

Second beach

Second Beach

Sunset from our balcony

We stayed in a (brilliant) motel room at the Quileute Oceanside Resort and could actually see the giant tree on the beach from our balcony. Up close, it was covered in "Team Jacob" graffiti, because La Push, and First Beach itself, is where much of the Twilight series takes place. The Quileutes have embraced the phenomena with a sense of humour - at the entrance to the reservation there is a sign saying "Treaty Line - No Vampires Allowed Past This Point." However, they had a tourism industry well before Twilight and will continue to have one long after, simply because La Push is such a beautiful and magical place.

The same cannot be said for the nearest town, Forks, which is where most of the Twilight action takes place. It feels like a tough, no-nonsense little town, which makes the ‘Dazzled by Twilight’ shop and the Twilight tour buses seem even more out of place. I think it’s a fairly hard-up place – there’s at least two trailer parks and they’re truly dilapidated. There’s a nice small-town feel though, and the people seem friendly enough. In any case, the checkout girl at the grocery wanted to know what we were doing in America, and if we saw lots of Kangaroos back home.

The Teddy Bears Picnic

We went down to the woods today, and we sure got a big surprise.

Un-bear-ably beautiful (groan)

In truth, we went down to the drive-through Sequim Olympic Game Farm, and these incredible creatures were behind electrified fences. It was a complicated experience - the sense of amazed wonder at seeing them, especially up so close, competes with the acute awareness that we're not supposed to see them, let alone from only a few meters away. They're supposed to be rambling around the mountains and forests, hunting hikers, not voluntarily doing tricks for the bread tourists are allowed to throw to them. For, you see, many of the animals at the Farm are ex-entertainers.

 

The Kodiak bear above reminded me of my brother's childhood teddy bear and sauntered over when he saw us sitting in our car watching him. He was well aware we had bread and was, or so it seemed, performing small tricks in the hope of edible rewards. He would, for example, stand up on his hind legs or wave his hands in the air, one after the other. It actually broke my heart a little bit.

The native animals were certainly the standout, among them wolves, deer, elk and bison. For the most part, the animals were in large open encloses that we drove through - the predators were obviously kept separate - and they would rush the car windows, hoping for a share of bread.

The neighbourhood bison getting friendly with the car in front of us...

The neighbourhood bison getting friendly with us...

Baby Elk

Many of the Farm's tenants, however, were a long way from home; tigers, lions, zebras, and a herd of Tibetan yaks also call the farm home. 

A Tibetan Yak

One resident in particular was as far from home as us:

Emu

It was enough to make one just the tiniest bit homesick!