Nature: It's dirty and there are no stores

My aversion to Nature has already been documented on this website, so I wanted to let you know that I've just returned home alive after two nights in the wilderness- namely, the Olympic Peninsula. There was no camping, thank God, but there were spiders in our motel room in Forks.

And I don't know that we spent very much time experiencing actual Nature. The purpose of the trip was to use up the 8 rolls of film Malia bought for her fancy shmantzy camera. We were going to capture the colors of the wildflowers, the majesty of the rocks bursting out of the water at Rialto Beach, the soaring bald eagles high overhead at Hurricane Ridge, but for the most part we were in the car. To get anywhere in Olympic National Park, you must first turn off the highway and drive miles and miles and lots more miles into the park. And these are not pleasant roads. They are windy and twisty and narrow and dark and those are not the only dangers. There are giant obstacles looking an awful lot like deer hanging out on the road up to Hurricane Ridge. There are logging trucks ready to steamroll you near the entrance to the Sol Duc Hot Springs. And there are many many caffeine-deficient drivers going unholy speeds down the road to the Hoh Rain Forest because they've already driven hours to the entrance of the rainforest and they are incredibly unhappy about the eighteen more miles they have to go. Also, they keep getting stuck behind ginormous RVs. Beware.

There was berry picking. There was purchasing of lavender in the Lavender Capital of the World. There were prayers said for the sad little "town" of La Push on the Quileute Reservation. There was also rain. Rain! I know! After our eleventy zillion weeks of sunshine. And guess who forgot her rain coat and her hiking shoes at home? Washington beaches in good weather? Meh. Washington beaches in the rain? NOT A GOOD TIME. (I saw a bumper sticker today: RAIN HAPPENS. Awesome.)

I have a bunch of cousins up in these logger/drunken sailor parts and one of them was kind enough to let us crash at his house the first night. More cousins came over for dinner and soon we were discussing Wilderness and Why In The World Maggie and Malia Were Visiting It.

MAGGIE: Yes, I am not big on nature. I like to go shopping. Also, there are no showers. Anywhere!
JEFF: That's nature for ya. It's dirty and there are no stores!

There was also some disapproval of lodging choices.

MAGGIE: Tomorrow we are going to the Hoh Rain Forest.
NICK: Where are you going to stay?
MAGGIE: In Forks.
NICK: You're going to stay in FORKS?
MAGGIE: Well...
NICK, AMBUR, JEFF, BEN, ZOE, ALEXI, and UNCLE GEORGE: (in unison) That craptastic cesspool of leering loggers in dumpy pick up trucks, horrid 'restaurants' with sticky vinyl booths, and freaky dusty spiderwebs in the motel bathrooms? As well as suspicious-looking wet spots in the motel carpet and suspicious-looking, not to mention absolutely revolting, hairs left in the motel sink?
MAGGIE: Oh my God what are we THINKING?!?!?

Oh, we were not thinking. Had we been in our Right and Easy Going Minds, Malia and I would have tip-toed cautiously into Forks, spent thirty seconds driving through the town, and then beat the hell out of there. But we are both rather anal people who like Plans and we made reservations at a motel I shall not name here (but if you are visiting Forks any time soon, EMAIL ME. There are decent looking motels in Forks, trust me, and you want to stay at one of them.)

The peninsula, however, was redeemed by today. Today we saw the beach in clear weather, picked yet more berries, bought yet more lavender, and damned the weather gods the entire way home.

Tomorrow? PHOTOGRAPHIC EVIDENCE