Olympic Peninsula, without islands
We got up at something like 5:30, so we could have a leisurely breakfast, and our meal in the hotel’s cafe off the lobby filled our bellies well enough. It was only when we came back down that we started running into people from our group: first were Jim and Sondra Boes. All eighteen of us piled into a pair of vans, and we left Seattle first by Interstate 5, then onto US 12, to Montesano, where we stopped for a short walk before returning to the vans for a picnic lunch:
In the picture, you can see Dede Stokes, then Ray Cannata, then Mark, then Kathryn Bardsley,
then Mary Pineau, and obscured behind her, Ann Gregory. Then our superlative guide
Maribeth Crowe’s back, a bit of John Pineau, then Michael Reese, and at the right,
the equally superlative guide Steve Engel.
(Big image; small.)
Steve was a fount of tree lore. Here’s a nice big Douglas-fir.
(Big image; small.)
I took unnumbered quantities of pictures of moss hanging from trees on this trip,
but for variety, I switched to trees bedecked with moss and then when I got tired
of that, I did festoons of moss decorating trees.
(Big image; small.)
My relatively sparse diary (compared to Mark’s!) says at this point,
“Then another relatively short drive, to Lake Quinault, where we walked
about three miles to the Lodge. Lots of fine rain-forest vegetation here. Whether
the relatively few pictures I took will show this, I don’t know.”
(Big image; small.)
Then drinks and dinner in the Lodge, and we retire to work on our diaries. The next day’s walk will be comparatively demanding.
Previous day’s pictures; next day’s pictures.
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