08/08/2026
4:30 AM. Quiet house, soft steps trying not to wake the family, camera gear in hand, and an open road waiting.
Our cabin was an hour and some change away from Hurricane Ridge, but every great journey starts before the rest of the world wakes up. With a hot cup of coffee from an early-morning stand in hand, I started up the winding road into Olympic National Park.
I knew early on I wouldn’t make it all the way to Sunrise Point before the absolute first light hit, so I leaned into the slow pace. I stopped a few times on the way up, taking in the quiet moments as the sky began to shift (those images are coming later!).
As I pulled into the top parking lot and started the climb, doubt crept in. Hikers were already heading down, the light was shifting fast, and a veil of wildfire smoke was hanging low in the sky. I wondered if the horizon would give me anything at all. But I had my coffee, the trail beneath my feet, and a belief that there is always magic if you’re willing to keep walking.
Near the top, on the opposite side of the hill, subtle light streams began popping over the ridge. And then—I crested the trail to this.
The smoke didn’t ruin the view; it made it poetic. Sunbeams pierced through the haze, lighting up the valleys while casting long, sweeping shadows of the peaks across the evergreen canopy. Down below, tiny cars wove their way up the mountain road—a quiet reminder of how small we are, and how incredible it is to be right here, right now. I sat there for an hour, sipping my coffee, watching the shadows dance and the morning unfold.
Sometimes, all it takes is a little faith, a hot cup of coffee, and a willingness to step out the door into the morning light.
Sunrise Point at Hurricane Ridge, Olympic National Park
Based in Vancouver, WA