10/15/2026
(2026 Roadtrip Report #15) Day 18, August 25th, was my final full day in the Olympic Peninsula, and Day 19, August 26th, my parents and I drove from Forks to SeaTac (outside of Seattle), from where they would depart airborne the next day.
So much to see and so little time! The morning of Day 18 marked the third and final day on the Olympic Peninsula. I quietly shuffled out of our Forks house for a sunrise visit to Second Beach about twenty minutes west, where State Route 110 meets the sea. I parked among two dozen other vehicles at the trailhead. Though I was admittedly a bit dismayed to be joining the crowd, I supposed I could share the sunrise now and then!
The tree-topped sea stacks so characteristic of the Pacific Northwest appeared otherworldly bathed in dawn’s purple light, and, despite the full parking lot, it really didn’t feel terribly busy at the beach; few of the coastal campers seemed to have woken yet. I played around with compositions, moving back and forth in response to the tide while trying to find photogenic rocks and reflections to pair with the looming Crying Lady Rock. Gradually, the sky turned a pale red that then deepened and sunk to the horizon once sunrise came. More visitors trickled out of the woodwork, many making their way to a series of caves exposed by the low tide.
By the time the sun struck the distant Quillayute Needles (designated a National Wildlife Refuge in 1907 by President Theodore Roosevelt; one of the nation’s first such refuges), visitors were streaming constantly down the high bank from which the trail outlet onto the sand. I decided this was an ideal time to leave. Now daylight, I could see the new townsite of La Push, the de facto capitol of the Quileute Indian Reservation. The town began efforts in recent years to relocate from its seaside position to higher ground to negate the threat of sea level rise.
After breakfast, we left as a family for Hoh Rain Forest, a famed and much anticipated place. Heeding the many warnings about overcrowding, we left early to obtain parking without issue. On the trail, sun dappled through gaps in the canopy above, giving the woodland a stark light-and-shadow treatment. It always feels ironic to see these places renowned for their peace and natural beauty but that receive so, so many visitors. Not to be too cynical, it still felt quiet along both the Hall of Mosses and Spruce Bottom Nature trails. While certainly greater solitude could have been found a couple miles down any other path, the Hoh Rain Forest still retained an atmosphere of reverence.
I kept an eye out for nurse logs, big leaf maples, and interpretive signs as we sauntered along the Hoh’s two short trails. Afterwards, we left the Hoh Rain Forest and headed south. Things were significantly more serene back at the Duncan Memorial Cedar Tree. We admired it for a time before walking the same nearby trail from the day before, enjoying the stature of the dozens more massive cedar trees that reside here. From there, we stopped by Ruby Beach, which was well-and-truly crowded, so we did not linger long.
The remainder of the day was rather uneventful. Prior to dinner, we visited La Push to see the old townsite and the numerous sea stacks that guard it, and then prepared for our departure the next day.
Day 19, August 26th, my parents and I convoyed from Forks to SeaTac, a Seattle suburb located near the city airport. This 3.5-hour drive, of course, was not going to be made without a few detours. But first, I went for one last waltz in the northwestern woods. Two neighborhood dogs gleefully met me at the trailhead. I might have preferred to be alone, but I reckoned their joyous company wasn’t too intrusive. And it was no matter anyway. Both relieved themselves simultaneously on the trail’s margins and then ran off like two skipping kids at play.
Come late morning, we were headed eastbound on US 101 towards Seattle. This was the first time in nearly three weeks that I was heading truly back east. The highway carried us along Lake Crescent, where we stopped to visit the historic Lake Crescent Lodge (another beautiful Olympic National Park lodge. This one from 1937), before we re-emerged from the dense Olympic woodlands. A patch of urban areas, farmland, and woodlots characterized the drive. Historic towns tempted us along the way, but we gave only passing glances to Port Angelos, Dungeness, and Sequim, for it was the city of Port Townsend that had earned a spot on our itinerary.
Port Townsend was so incredible! It was lively, artsy, historic, charming, and full of all other sorts of pleasantries. Situated at the end of the Quimper Peninsula and incorporated in 1851, Port Townsend is renowned today for its well-preserved Italianate commercial buildings, as well as its Victorian homes that occupy the flatland above downtown. Much of this development came with a railroad boom beginning in 1870s; however, plans never came to be and this period of prosperity ended in the 1890s. It wasn’t until the 1920s with the coming of a paper mill that the town had a reliable, significant industry to drive growth. Much like Asheville, North Carolina, it is thanks to the town’s decades of poor economic activity that so much has been preserved. Few things were ever demolished.
After enjoying Port Townsend’s cast-iron storefronts and picturesque tree-lined downtown, we drove to the very end of the Quimper Peninsula to visit Fort Worden Historical State Park. The fort preserved here was constructed between 1898 and 1920 and was used by the US Army until 1953. Though positioned prominently at the mouth of the Puget Sound, a hostile shot was never fired from Fort Worden, and in fact it was made obsolete soon after construction due to technological change. The fort spent most of its life as a training ground. My dad and I enjoyed the old barracks and officers’ homes and explored a few of the concrete batteries before leaving.
From one peninsula to the next we continued south along the bays and harbors adjoining Puget Sound. On Kitsap Peninsula, we detoured one final time to visit Bremerton, where more military history awaited us. Bremerton is a sizeable city defined today primarily by the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard, whose industrial sprawl occupies much of the city’s southern shorefront. Concrete piers and dry docks line the coast, from which countless military vessels, including aircraft carriers, destroyers, and more, are maintained. While we could only catch a few peaks of the navy yard, we did get to visit one of its historic occupants up close via the USS Turner Joy, a Vietnam War-era destroyer that has been a museum ship since 1982.
Our time in Bremerton was brief. We had dinner overlooking Sinclair Inlet and I snuck in a short walk around downtown, which was filled with mid-century architecture. Being evening now and still an hour from the hotel, it was time to just drive. The vibes, I must say, were optimal. Mt. Rainier made a surprise appearance as I crossed the Tacoma Narrows Bridge, its snowy heights catching the warm light of the sunset. Dusk came as I entered the less-than-photogenic suburbia south of Seattle. Though lacking in scenic qualities, SeaTac was more than sufficient for an overnight. Tomorrow my parents would depart Ohio-bound from the airport, while I would continue eastward on the overland route. I was excited to reenter the mountains and prairie!
