PNT Section 9, Part 2: The Hoh Rainforest

Port Angeles Trail Angels

As soon as I arrived in town, I got in touch with trail angels I knew only as Kindabird and SOS. They kindly agreed to host me, and I was surprised to find Lentil already at their house when I arrived. The young couple’s home was filled with books, hiking gear, and maps of the coastal region I would soon be entering. As Kindabird gushed about the landmarks I would be passing, and her knowledge of the surrounding wilderness areas, I felt an immediate kinship. Lentil and I spent the evening listening to their stories of their adventure on the PCT, where they’d gotten their trail names and fallen in love. Their young son, Jonah, kept us entertained with playful antics. 

Lentil headed out early the next morning, but my permit dates required that I stay in town an extra day. As Kindabird was still recovering from illness and needed rest, I accompanied SOS into town. While he clocked in for his shift at a local book shop, I spent the day exploring downtown Port Angeles. As I couldn’t carry any souvenirs with me, my shopping was mostly for snacks. My favorite was a New Zealand-style ice cream, which is a full-fat custard blended with frozen berries. 

That evening, SOS ordered pizza, while Kindabird, their son, and I picked leaves from their garden to make a side salad with. I got to know Jonah better, and he shared an episode of his favorite TV show with me. They gave me endless recommendations for audiobooks, which I happily filled an app on my phone with, eager to have something to fill my time with during the long waits for tidal levels on the coast ahead. 

Olympic Hot Springs

The next morning, I bid goodbye to my new trail angle friends, and headed back to trail via bus, and then a short hitch. The woman who stopped to pick me up was familiar with the trail, as her husband had hiked it in 2019. She also mentioned that she worked with the pack teams that supplied all of the park’s backcountry ranger stations. Unfortunately, the ride was too short for me to learn more about her very intriguing life. 

The first few miles back up into the mountains were on roads abandoned after the river wash-out. I passed several other groups out hiking and biking. I tried to move quickly, hoping to have extra time to soak in the hot springs just ahead. 

While Olympic hot springs was clearer and less populated than the previous springs I’d passed on this hike, I ultimately decided to skip a dip. The sulfur-smelling pools were too small to submerge in, which was really the only attraction in the chilly weather. The prospect of being unable to dry off in the misty air was also not appealing. I studied the interesting blue and orange mineral deposits in the soil around the pools, and continued on.

The rest of the day was full of large fungi encounters. They grew out of the sides of fallen logs and ancient trees, their colorful skin made even more vibrant by the nonstop showers. 

I ended the evening going up Appleton Pass. While not as challenging as the previous pass, it still left me soaked with sweat. But that didn’t seem to matter, because the rain had already soaked me and all my gear completely through. I accepted the wetness, not even bothering to lay out my clothes in the hopes of them drying by morning. 

Seven Lakes Basin

The next morning, I took the higher-elevation Cat Basin alternate in the hopes of getting out of the misty rainforest. I was rewarded with very brief, obstructed views of Mt. Olympus, before the clouds closed in again. But walking on the ridge was nice, and I had the trail to myself. 

I soon passed into the notoriously beautiful Seven Lakes Basin. Tiny emerald-colored bodies of water dotted the landscape. Despite the poor weather, I passed dozens of groups camping and backpacking. 

While the rolling mist and clouds put a damper on the idea of swimming, I could almost picture what an ideal wilderness fantasy this would be on a typical sunny August day. That night, I sent up my tent, and savored the fact that it was miraculously sort-of-dry. I vowed to never take arid weather for granted again, even in August. 

Hoh Rain Forest

The following day had me hiking at low elevation again, in the dense rain forest. It was impossible to tell if the drops that steadily hit the hood of my poncho were rain, or just dripping condensation from the thick canopy above. 

The wooden walkways and bridges were welcome infrastructure on this very muddy day. In their absence, I was often wading through inches of water, submitting to the fact that my shoes would not be dry again for some time. 

But the nonstop moisture also meant that every dip in the landscape became an enchanting waterfall. Getting in my tent that night was once again like slipping into a wet swimsuit. I tried to focus on the prospect of hitting town in the morning, and getting a hotel room to dry my gear in. 

This Town Sucks

Not really. It’s a vampire pun. 

After a quick hitch from Juan, who spoke only a few words of English, but was able to decipher my poor pantomiming of “post office”, I made it to Forks just in time to get my bear canister. While there are bears on the wilderness coast, the main purpose of the canister requirement is to deter the cleaver raccoons. As it was the weekend in a town known for both it’s national park proximity, and it’s Twilight tourism, I was lucky to find an available hotel room. 

While many locals likely attest the attention Stephanie Meyer’s series brought to their quiet town, I found the many themed maps, menus, and souvenir shops charmingly kitschy. I took a free tour of the Twilight museum, which was primarily a collection of movie props and themed art donated to the town. My tour group was clearly made up of super-fans, as I was the only one who didn’t raise their hand when our guide asked if we new about something called Chuckesmee. I would soon be educated on the intricacies of the animatronic doll they used in the last movie by a knowledgeable museum-goer. 

Getting to see this made the tour worth every penny

 As I resupplied, I was surprised to run into Krafty and Second Child. We discovered I had similar permit dates to them on the coast, and we planned to meet up for our first low-tide headland crossing. Then I got what was probably the best pizza I had on trail, and retired to my hotel room to dry out my gear and watch trashy reality TV.