The snowfields and glaciers of the Olympic Mountains are a knock-out. (Mount Olympus)
The editor, on top of the world, calls 'lunch'.
Opts to skip lunch because he'd rather hang-over.
Decides to join editor for lunch as things a little tight on the ledge. Treetops looking a bit too far down.
“Cut out the superlatives, will you?”
‘Okay.’
“And remember, I don’t want you referring to what you saw today as Switzerland.”
‘Okay’.
“Have you lost your tongue?”
‘You’re not leaving us a whole lot of options. No one said it’s Switzerland. We mentioned
in passing that it looks a lot like that country.’
“First, you called New Zealand the Switzerland of the south, now the Northwest corner is
also Switzerland. What about Sudan?”
‘You’re actually quite tough. We forgot to ask whether you slept well last night.’
“That’s impertinent. By the way, your showing off today even exceeded your worst acts
of exhibitionism.”
‘We weren’t showing off. We wished to impress you, Dear Sweetness.’
“Hmm!”
Deer Jenni. Approaches editor for a date. Instead, she offers raisins.
This is truly a beautiful place. 'Shot' taken from beginning of ridge after sharp climb.
You climb, you find snow.
What a day. The Olympic National Park is outstanding, a refuge of supreme beauty and serenity. The hike
took us from the side of the main road, up through a forest, at one stage climbing 1,600 feet in 1.5 miles and
then a further 1,000 feet more. Thereafter, we viewed the Olympic Mountain Range, including Mount Olympus,
multi-snow-capped peaks, glaciers, vast forests of trees to mention a few features. On the other side of the ridge,
we witnessed Mount Baker, the Juan de Fuca Strait and Vancouver Island as well as outstanding fauna and flora. It was
quite a workout but a wonderful treat. We reached thick snow once again, after completing the steep trail, one of the
finest. It really is difficult to think of a better hike although given a little time, we might.
Early stages of the trail as it becomes more and more interesting.
Latter stages of hike, editor develops a cheeky look.
No, son, you can't go and play with those two. They're a little strange.
We met a couple before the peak who mentioned we should look out for goats. They added that one
had gored a hiker to death recently, in the vicinity. After receiving the warning, we sent our editor
forward to scout the area while we checked to ensure we had sufficient drinks, food and sunscreen. After all,
someone has to do the dirty jobs; we don’t shirk responsibility.
A little later, a deer jumped out from behind Jenni and then approached her. Thereafter, it adopted us and
we walked together on the ridge. Lo and behold, a goat and two cute kids were heading our way on a narrow
path, little room on either side. What to do? Could this be the ‘killer goat’? We have reason to fear bears
but goats? Nevertheless, one shouldn’t take chances. We encouraged our editor to continue onwards; we don’t
wish her to lose that hard-earned courage. Meantime, we provided encouragement from somewhere up a tree
close by. It was not an easy tree to climb but then we have developed a skill from, as our editor calls it,
showing off. The abuse we receive…
'Boy, did I take a wrong turn', finding the true path back to the trail with a great background.
The setting and snow-and-ice covered peaks are a treat.
Putting the editor on a pedestal or something like that.
The scene is set. Here’s a further problem. Behind the goats, we noticed a couple walking armed with
hiking poles. Later on, we learned they were French. A nice couple, so we felt bad for making fun of the
French recently. We should add we did not feel too bad, though. Let’s get back to the ridge action. The three
of us, Jenni, her dear, deer friend and the ‘hero’, are approaching from the other side, sandwiching both
the deer and terrifying-goats in between. Within a minute, should we remain on path, there is going to be
a showdown.
What to do? Should we return to the tree and encourage the editor to face her fear of goats or stand aside
and diffuse the situation. Under tremendous pressure, we tell the editor that she should climb a rock on
the side of the path and ignore the animals. ‘Let’s be cool,’ we tell her. We’re thinking of how
Clint Eastwood would play it without his Magnum .375.
The strategy turned out nothing less than brilliant, we humbly admit. Either because the animals spotted
or smelled each other or perhaps us, one group went to the left, the other right. Our editor was safe.
Whew! Once the coast was clear, we made a graceful entry from the treetop which we are sure was admired
by all watching.
Cheers,
Jenni and Jeffrey
A Doctor Doolittle Day...in a fashion:
An animal filled day, cooling off in mild weather.
A sad fellow after rejection by the editor, lies in snow to cool.
Human and animal babies...they have what it takes.
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