Day 18 – June 23 – We left Astoria early this morning, heading out over the bridge into Washington state. We drove along the west shore of the state, up through Aberdeen where they were having a street-rod show. We received a lot of “thumbs up” signs and headed north through Olympia National Park to the tip of the Peninsula and Port Angeles. The drive wound through thick forests, the kind you read about in fairy tales, and had a late lunch at a beautiful park overlooking the ocean. We met up with the Capps and David Johnson at our motel in Port Angeles and, in the morning, plan to cross into Victoria, Vancouver Island, and our first day in Canada.
Jun 23, 2001
623a – A view of the bridge as we prepare to leave Astoria. The bridge is tall enough for the ships to pass under and we worried that the wind would be a problem. No problem at all for a T.
623b – Following Jennifer or Ginger (not sure who was driving in this photo) on the road through Western Washington state. There is a lot of logging along these forests and many signs to tell you when the wood was harvested, replanted, and future harvest plans. Often, there was a 60-80 year gap between harvestings and we marveled at a business that could plan in 50 year increments. There were few cars on this part of the journey and we enjoyed the scenery in peace.
623c – The road lead through Olympic National Park and we stopped at a lovely lodge to have a picnic lunch along the ocean. We had our own food and ate on the deck of one their cabins. Another meal from the manifold cooker! Surprisingly, we ran into people who were relatives of people we know in Bryan
623d – As we drove further north, the mountains rose up in front of us. The T’s made a pretty picture as we drove this fine road. We decided to go this way to avoid the traffic congestion around Seattle and Olympia and were really glad we did.
623e -The huge logs drift up on the beach from the forests along the coasts. Some were dead and fell; some broke away from loggers. The bark is scoured off by the sand and water and, eventually, they are deposited along the shore. Many of these logs are as high off the ground as a man is tall and they look like bleached bones on the sand.
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