The Point

Today dawned stunningly clear and sunny. You would never believe we are within 30 miles of Rain Forest from the line up of sunny days we've had. The three of us decided to go a little further afield, and started out for Cape Alava, which is, at low tide, the westernmost point of the contiguous 48 states. There is a 9 mile walk along the beach there (unusually, all on wood planking) which takes you by an archaeological dig of an ancient Makah Indian village (which was taken by the sea for centuries and then appeared again in the 1970s); and by Wedding Rocks where there are 300 year old petroglyphs; and further on there is Sand Point. I can't remember what is distinctive about Sand Point, but there is something gorgeous there, too.

However, low tide is now late in the afternoon, about the time we have to be at the airport to start setting up. We were driving towards it about at high tide, planning to walk only part of the trail and to stay on the high ground. We realized then that about 3/4ths of the drive to Cape Alava coincides with 1/2 the drive to Neah Bay and Cape Flattery. And the spirit took us and we changed direction.

So instead, we went to Cape Flattery, which is the NorthWesternmost point in the lower 48, and ties with Cape Alava for Westernmost point at high tide.

The drive there runs for about 20 miles parallel to, and along the shores of the Straits of Juan de Fuca. Across them, about 25 miles to the north, is Vancouver, Canada, breath-takingly close. We definitely got the better deal when trading for views -- I hadn't realized the line of snow-capped mountains right on the coast of Canada.

At the end of the drive you enter the Makah Indian Reservation and the small, rural, but seemingly thriving community in Neah Bay. And then further on narrow roads curving around steep landslide-prone hills, with sheer sliced rock straight up two yards from one side of the road and rocky shores two yards on the other side.

After that is the Park itself at Cape Flattery. A nice little parking lot, and then a 0.7 mile walk down through thick wet forest, on a trail that is often made up of thick slices of tree trunks floating in mud, and occasionally the clean wood planking that awaits me some day at Cape Alava. As you walk down, you hear only distant waves, muted by the forest, and often obscured by the louder sounds of streams bubbling down the hillside under and around the path.




At the end, you are still many feet above the ocean, and a viewing platform has been built above that. You stand at a point that really feels like a right angle at the northwest corner -- cliffs stretch directly south on the left, and straight back to the east on the right (or behind you).

Across a little channel (through which whales swim, but not today) is Tatoosh Island, home of a lighthouse built in 1857. And to the north of course, still the not-so-distant mountains of Canada.

It was an exhilarating view, and just exactly the right length walk.



The Eagles
During the drive along the Strait of Juan de Fuca, and at Cape Flattery itself, we counted over a dozen bald eagles! One of those was in shadow, and might have been a turkey vulture (its head was a little pinkish), and another appeared to be sitting on a rock in the water, which I've never seen before -- so maybe that wasn't a bald eagle, but another huge, white-headed, black-bodied bird. But others flew close enough to see their yellow feet tucked in close to their bodies.

And out at the point, we saw another huge bird, just for an instant -- We are pretty sure it was a golden eagle, because they do live out here. And no other birds of that size in this area have that allover brown coloring.