Cloudmanic Labs

Note: Earlier this summer, my husband and I unexpectedly found ourselves needing to use a chunk of vacation time. The situation called for an epic road trip across the wilds of Washington, Canada and Montana. Here, in four parts, are the highlights.

Olympic National Park is only a few hours from our Oregon home, yet until this summer, wea'd never been. Did we think that it was too far? That it wouldn’t be worth it? Whatever the reason, we were repentant even before we actually entered the park boundaries. All it took was a glimpse of snow-capped peaks beckoning in the distance and we realized the error of our ways. 

First look at Olympica's mountains. Yes, this was taken through a windshield.

These days, the damp and beautiful Olympic Peninsula might be better known as the home of the Twilight series than the home of a national park (and if youa're not familiar with Twilight, skip to the next section). Nowhere was that more evident than Forks, the little town Stephenie Meyer implausibly turned into a stop on every teenage girla's bucket list. Groups posed at the “Forks Welcomes You” sign, the high school, the hospital. As we waited at a stoplight, a girl in a Twilight shirt and a middle-aged woman, presumable her mother, clutching a Twilight map crossed the street in front of us.

First Beach, on the La Push reservation, was similarly populated a“ except here, werewolves, not vampires, decorated signs (again, this is a Twilight reference, apologies). It was impossible not to mock things like aœJacob Blacka's Fireworks Stand,a but my laughter faded when we reached the coast. All those times Bella complains about the backwaters of Forks and La Push, she neglects to mention part of it is in a national park a“ ita's freaking beautiful.

First Beach. No bare-chested would-be werewolves sighted.

Of course, many of the beachgoers had obviously been drawn there by Meyer. I saw a man pick up his teenage daughter, who had a leg in a cast, and carry her down to the beach. Now that, I thought, is love.

We spent a few days exploring the beaches, forests and mountains, but as alluring as the idea of sexy vampires and sexier werewolves were, we had many miles left to go. A ferry ride across the choppy Puget Sound later, we were across the border in Victoria. 

I was ready to stand on solid ground, but not ready to let go of the feeling of mystery wea'd had in Olympic. As the sun started its downward slide, we plastered stickers on our chests and joined a large group of people for a Ghostly Walk. Two guides traded off telling us about macabre incidents in Victoria’s past, from gruesome murders to horrific car crashes, and the spirits that couldna't seem to let go. Cheesy? Perhaps. But it was also a surprisingly good time. Even if the supernatural had been left out, it still would have been a fascinating tour of the seedier parts of the city’s history.