After a dreamy five days at Kalaloch Beach and brief visits to Hurricane Ridge and the Hoh Rainforest (also must-dos at Olympic) we moved inland to Lake Crescent, a glacier-formed water body within the park.
This was an area we hadn’t yet experienced, and we planned for three days at the site. We grabbed a good spot at Fairholme Campground and set up the rig in a grove of sweet-smelling incense cedars within view of the lake. Upon reaching it, Mike took off in his little boat to explore the exceptionally gorgeous blue-green glacial water the lake was famous for, while I took a walk through the ferns and forest then got into the hammock with Koa and my book to enjoy a quiet afternoon.
Lake Crescent boasted a very long hike/bike pathway that led around the lake. That evening we prepped the bikes for a ride the next day by charging them.
Our biking adventure the next morning started out auspiciously enough, as these things go. I packed some snacks and a couple of cans of bubbly water because the route we’d planned would be about 8 miles in total. (These details are notable in that Mike and I have often ended up on one of our “explores” without any supplies, which added a layer of discomfort.) The Spruce Railroad Trail was a separate bike path that had been built on a previous railroad and led around half of the large lake.
Things got really fun once we found a precipitous on-ramp to the Railroad Trail. The route was smooth and newly paved, and as we flew along our e-bikes easily passed trudging hikers and laboring regular bikers. Carried away with enthusiasm, we biked all the way to the end of the trail with only a couple of brake failures on the part of my bike, which Mike was able to fix with the handy toolkit he carries.
I enjoyed the sensations of changing temperatures against my skin as I flew from shadow into light and back again, all at fifteen to twenty miles an hour. I breathed through my nose (yes, I’ve caught a bug between my teeth biking before!) and the air was filled with the delicious scents of cedar, blooming flowers, and the dusty-rich odor of summer forest mulch.
The end of the trail was disappointing, a crowded parking lot from whence many a hiker were setting off to walk the route we’d just arrived on. Mike worked on my brakes which failed just as we arrived, almost crashing me into a car moving out of the lot (I chose to wipe out in a patch of grass instead.)
I then t a long time in a line waiting for a pit toilet as the sun beat down and heated the plastic poop box to boiling.
A word about hygiene while traveling: there have been many moments on the road trip so far when I’ve been glad I’m not a germaphobe, don’t have bathroom issues like bladder shyness or difficulty eliminating in unfamiliar places or with other people around. That said, one of the comforts of home that I really miss is the germ-free safety and privacy of my home bathroom. Really, truly, you never know what you’re going to find when opening the door of a bathroom or outhouse in a campground!
Earlier, I had broken into my can of water and had then forgotten it when stopping for a picture, so I was thirsty as we began the estimated five or so miles back to our campsite. Still, it was a gorgeous day, and the tree canopy provided a tunnel of dappled shade to ride through.
We passed the on-ramp to the bike trail we’d originally taken and kept going, assuming the we would eventually reconnect with the main car road to the campground.
My butt and arms began to hurt. My throat was sandpapery.
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