Yesterday I traveled with the Nevada road trip crew to the Olympic Peninsula, where we took a walk along the Dungeness Spit, a large land body that extends like a scythe out into the water of the Pacific Ocean.
At 5.5 miles out to the spit’s light house, and 5.5 miles back, with little resting in between, it has left my legs feeling like rubber today, but the experience was beautiful and worthwhile, and provided for good conversation and good mental reflection, and general social camaraderie with some of my favorite people.
The very beginning: a sense of pleasant departure in the front, and a sense of contemplative hesitancy behind.
Many, many elements of tree paired with many, many elements of boot.Libby crashing through the distance.Quick snap candid with shipping boat in the distance.Those Dungeness crabs, dead for us, alive for whomever.The reddest recent driftwood possible.Justine indicating eagles, starling, cairns.The light at the end of the spit.Libby, who walked most of the walk without socks or shoes, quickly donning them once again.Compass? Sun dial? Both?
You are stuck with America. You fools.
View of the Spit (and Sequim beyond) from within the lighthouse.Strangely textured lighthouse pane.
Jason and the “I am not exhausted” face.
A personal favorite. Tracks from the four-wheel-drive vehicle we had zero access to (but wished for).
They look charming, but they were quite difficult to walk over (especially after a mile or six).Sunset gleams were probably what we really visited for.
Black blob as actually eagle perch.
Mellow, textured sunset.The definition of gnarly?A misty, post-sunset look back at that long, faded land mass.
