On our way, we stopped for brunch in Port Angeles at the Chestnut Cottage. Nana K and Grandpa R, the next time you’re here, we should make this part of your visit–comfortable, cheery, really good food.
This was our first trip up to Hurricane Ridge in the Olympic mountains–wow! It’s a really gorgeous drive, and once you reach the generous carpark and visitor’s center, the hiking trails are easily accessible. It’s not arduous hiking, since the road up takes you most of the way.
Apparently, there are mountain goats around Hurricane Ridge that can be fatally aggressive with their horns. The visitor’s center docent told me that what they want is salts, so if you have the option to take your sweaty t-shirt off and leave it to the goat, DO IT. Optionally, urinate to the side of the trail and scram. I came back and told the kids our action plan…so if a goat locks a narrow eye on us and keeps pace, S’s going to take off her cap and leave it for the goat and we’ll all run. If that fails, someone will pee on a rock and slowly back away and leave the wretched goat to its new salt lick. We told A he was the chosen one to keep us safe from goat-goring.
We saw a lot of habituated deer and breath-taking vistas, but no goats. We’ll be back, maybe in wintery weather with cross-country skis!