Rootless in Place

Memory's Vault

Rest day in Port Townsend
I spent this as one does rest days: resupplying, drinking coffee, doing laundry, wandering around, checking out bookstores, drinking beer and going out for dinner. In the evening I explored Fort Warden and stumbled upon the excellent Memory’s Vault from which I’ll leave one of the poems inscribed on one of its monoliths.

Cloistered
 
It was summer on the north coast,
the wrong coast, they call it in the East.
It was summer. And summer means rain.
 
Rain dissolved the islands in the Sound,
it buried mountains and turned the ocean gray.
I listened to it rattle at my window.
 
Funny, how you wake some days
in the middle of the morning, and know
somehow a part of the world has died,
 
another language lifted from our tongues,
another way of knowing. And you don’t
know whether the pulse you feel is yours
 
or is the fading beat of the world.
An eagle is not a symbol for a thing.
It was early summer or late spring.
 
I listened to the rain. For all
its tenderness and wealth,
the earth is often a meager gift.
 
But to know and not to speak
is the greatest grief. Listen.
The world flows away like a wave.
 
-Sam Hamill

Posted from Port Townsend, Washington, United States.

My Atlantis at the S'Klallam Tribal center

On three cups
five cups
this fine wine I’m drunk –
and once drunk
I can pour for myself
-Ryōkan

Port Townsend
The Olympic Discovery Trail runs right out of Sequim Bay State Park and ends a couple of miles outside of Blyn. Blyn is tribal lands of the S’Klallam Tribe and had a really wonderful tribal center there with a very nice art gallery. Really dug the more abstract takes on the traditional native themes. From Blyn it was back on the 101 after one last mile or so on the trail. This was all familiar riding to me including the brutal climb before Port Townsend on busy shoulderless Hwy 20. But then it’s rolling hills and a short trail into the Port Townsend marina. There I visited the PT Brewing company’s taproom and enjoyed several pints. I had dinner in PT and lingered in town until late evening. Finally I arrived at Fort Warden State Park and put up my tent in the gloaming.

A chorus of frogs lulls me to sleep
this fine spring night.

Posted from Port Townsend, Washington, United States.

Trestle on the Olympic Discovery Trail

Evening sun’s long farewell, loneliness, mountain. -Hōsai Ozaki

Return to civilization
I particularly enjoy riding in regions where the services are few and the camping primitive. But every few days it’s nice to get back to where you can get a draft beer. Today began a portion of this tour where draft beer will be readily available for the next several days. 112E from Harrison Beach to Port Angeles was nice riding and I made it into town for lunch. I ended up spending more time than anticipated there as I visited a Co-Op, an ice cream shoppe, a bookstore and the Barhop Brewpub. No worries though as it was the Olympic Discovery Trail all the way to Sequim Bay State Park. Nice riding in the setting sun with views of the Olympic Mountains. This is the third time in eight years I’ve ridden this trail and each time more of it is paved and new sections added. This time was no different with pretty much the entire trail now paved and it runs right to the Hiker/Biker campsites at Sequim Bay State Park!

Butterfly flittering about that tree -
are your searching for what
I am searching for?

Posted from Sequim, Washington, United States.

The sun setting to the northwest

It’s a lonely road that has no turning. -Santoka Tenada

112E
The first part of the ride today was backtracking to the 113/112 intersection. A lovely, cloudless day it had warmed up enough by lunchtime that I was riding sans socks (first time this trip). Once I joined 112E I was on new roads. This road was pleasant at first winding along e Pysht River through young green trees. But once it returned to the coast it became a tougher ride. Always up and down with the most demanding climbs so far. And the wind was somehow still against me. I was plenty beat by the time I reached the Harrison Beach Campgrond.

Update
I feel things would be amiss if I didn’t mention I saw a big black bear as I was descending a couple miles from the campground. That makes it three for three for bear sightings on my last three tours. And real bear country is yet to come.

Also: Tour 2012 photos on Flicker

Like a diamond
the wind cuts through
wandering thoughts.

Posted from Port Angeles, Washington, United States.

The view from the most Northwesterly point in the US

The sound of waves regular, the day is breaking. -Hōsai Ozaki

Beginnings
The ride out to Cape Flattery was quite similar to yesterday’s at first. Not far from Snow Creek you enter the Makah Reservation and the town of Neah Bay. From there the route curves sour through trees, then due west on a tidal flat before finally turning Northwesterly. A good bit of climbing and you reach the 3/4 mile trail to the point. At the end of the trail is an observation platform which is the most northwestern point in the US. I had a shot of Laphroaig and toasted “To the true West”. And then I turned my back to the setting sun and truly began my Journey to the East.

The mellow voice of the frogs mark the path,
the cry of the gulls the end;
the far west

Posted from Neah Bay, Washington, United States.

Seastacks and fishing boats

Life seems neither long nor short, and we take no more heed to save time or make haste than do the trees and stars. -John Muir

Amongst the fishermen
I rode all new roads today and this has been my favorite riding so far. Highway 113 from 101 north was a nice jaunt through the woods and past Beaver Falls. But highway 112 was just stunning. It hugged the coast which is craggy and rocky at this point. In the distance, layers of green and blue is Vancouver Island. Big fluffy clouds stream along in the constant headwind. Anyone who has ridden the coast knows that the prevailing wind is SE so riding to the most NW point is as direct a headwind as you can find. The weather was highly variable going from sun, to rain, to hail, to fully grey many times over the course of a couple of hours. The road was also crowded with RVs and trucks pulling big boats and the campground I was staying at, Snow Creek Resort, was nearly filled with fisherman. For it is the opening of halibut season.

Impatiently waiting for my breakfast to cool.

Posted from Sekiu, Washington, United States.

Atlantis off the coast

Only the wind blows through the day, my troubling thoughts. -Hōsai Ozaki

When in the rainforest…
The good weather couldn’t last, not in spring on the coast and certainly not in the rain forest. It rained most of the way to Forks and it was a cold rain, pushed by wind. The wind seemed to have blown away the clouds as I arrived in Forks and by the time I left it was mostly clear and warming up a bit. The last few days have been familiar roads and campgrounds but tonight I reached the edge of territory and camped at the new Bear Creek Campground.

All paths are lined with weeds.

Posted from Port Angeles, Washington, United States.

Setting sun over the true west

“No rock landscape is more varied in sculpture, none more delicately modeled than these landscapes of the sky.” -John Muir

Against the wind
101 turns eastward for a spell to loop around the Quinault Reservation. This was all through commercial forest land, some second (or third) growth, plenty clear cut. When it turned westward the wind off the ocean was intense. The weather was otherwise excellent: low 70s with some haze. Made it to the Kalaloch Campground pretty early and spent the time on the beach.

The language of the wind is written in patterns in the sand.

Posted from Forks, Washington, United States.