It has been an interesting winter. Normally, I think of weather this time of year as blah - the classic PNW grey skies with drizzle. Rain is part of the landscape, to the tune of about 25 inches a year. Port Angeles sits at the foot of the Olympic Mountains, so the town is shielded from southerly winds and sits in the rain shadow. This winter, though, has been different. We've had enough rain so the local ball fields flooded to the point where people were able to take boats out on the new "lake" to paddle around. Usually, this is where kids are playing tee-ball and baseball. The Olympic Discovery Trail had a four-mile section closed along the Strait of Juan de Fuca, due to mudslides, a trail failure due to high winds and high tides which eroded a section of the trail, as well as exposing ancient bones, thought to be between 500 to 1,000 years old. So, not the usual thing for the area.
The trick to walking this time of year is timing, and basically comes down to how wet do I want to get? Of course, if I were really on it, I would head out the door before rain starts falling, but other things get in the way. I go to the gym twice a week, so that's a priority. Heading to Costco in Sequim, which doesn't seem like a priority, becomes one. And when we get there, and it's sunny, I hope that sunshines holds, but of course, it does not. This walk turns wet and drippy. My pant legs were soaked, as were my shoes and socks.
Don't think it's all drippy gloom - there are really lovely days to walk here, too. Several days I've walked down on Ediz Hook, where the path has been clear, the skies are blue, and the breezes are brisk. I always find it interesting to look across the inner harbor and look at the town, and marvel at what a narrow strip of land Port Angeles occupies. The Olympic Mountains are the background for town, and depending on the clouds and winds, the peaks may appear - or not. There are things lower down to see, too - feral cats, seals, seagulls, geese, and sea otters. One day we met a man who was walking down to the old A-Frame, a spot that had been where logging trucks unloaded their logs into the harbor to be boomed into big rafts. He told us that his father had worked at the A-Frame, and when he passed away, his ashes were scattered at the site of the now-gone structure - the man liked to come down to say hello to his dad.
There was a time when rain would have derailed any attempt to walk - I just wouldn't have gone outside. I'm not certain when things changed, but they definitely have. Let's see what the next month brings.
86.89/365
