West Elwha

Our first attempt at the West Elwha Trail was a no-go. The three-vehicle parking area was full, and there were a couple other cars taking their chances by being parked along the side of the no-parking-along-the-road road. We chose not to add to the mayhem, and resorted to our alternate plan, which took us to an unpaved section of the Olympic Discovery Trail. This choice also involved roadside parking but of the lawful sort.

There would be little sun, no big views, and no defined destination. There would also be no other people, so many shades of green there are hardly enough names for them all, and small, brilliant bursts of color from the early flower blooms.

As we walked the level gravel trail, TBG heard a distinct bird call that he recognized as the Northern Pygmy Owl, our nemesis bird. The precise definition of a nemesis bird can vary from birder to birder, but the common denominator is that it’s a bird you’re actively seeking and never finding. We have made several dedicated drives to try to locate one in areas where they’re often spotted, and I search eBird regularly to find out where one might be hanging out. Although we could hear this one clearly and for a good long time along a section of the trail, it was in no way visible. ‘natch.

Our second attempt at the West Elwha Trail was a shining success. This time, we were the only car in the parking area, although it was the same day of the week as before and a far better weather day. It was chilly at the start, as TBG demonstrates below.

Like the sign reads, the first .5 mile of trail is on private property or, more accurately, properties, as it makes a dividing line between several backyards before reaching the park boundary. I always wonder two things about such trail access. One, do the residents think it’s disconcerting to see people sporadically traipsing across their yards (because I would) and, Two, does the NPS pay these people? OK, wait, I have a Three: What happens if one of the property owners in the middle says not in my backyard?

Our destination was the Altair(e) Campground just over three miles away. We’d been up the old hot springs road on the other side of the river as our First Day hike last year, and you can also access this defunct campground that way.

The water crossings were charming and easily maneuvered.

The trail itself was well-maintained and, being a river trail, low and mostly level.

All the expected flora was present in the form of mosses, mushrooms, and forest flowers. We took time to admire each one.

As the trail reached a pair of what I describe as hillside balconies — two sections of wooden bridge-type platforms that assist hikers over and around otherwise impassable cuts in the hillside high above the river — we spotted several more wildflowers dotting the sunny slope.

We were quite surprised to see larkspur, paintbrush, and chocolate lilies easily a month earlier than usual. These, along with the alabaster avalanche lilies, made a veritable garden on the slope. I took in the great view of the river from the platforms as well as made a game of finding the well-camouflaged chocolate lilies which seemed to multiply before my eyes, while TBG captured the magic with his lens.

The Altair(e) Campground is a beautiful area along the river where it is easy to see why it was a campground and hard to imagine why camping is not still permitted. There is a large shelter with a fireplace grill and several picnic tables, as well as a few tables scattered about the grounds. You’ll pack out what you packed in, and you’ll have to duck behind a bush if other outdoor-lovers are around and nature calls, but we had the place to ourselves and chose to take our lunch in the sun at the river’s edge. As we munched, a trio of Harlequin ducks came floating by. Initially thinking it was an odd place to see them, knowing them as saltwater shore ducks, I discovered it’s exactly where we should’ve expected to find them this time of year since they breed along whitewater rivers.

On the return, we encountered a small group who were doing some type of fish research, but otherwise the day was ours.

DISTANCE ONE WAY

TBG even spotted a lone Morel not long before we exited park property, lucky him. He treated me with a few crispy bites the next morning with breakfast, lucky me. A hike to ourselves that far exceeded our expectations? Lucky us.