I went camping with a Z this weekend. A tent and sleeping bags WILL fit in the back, but it’s tent or the boot cover, not both. So top down during the day, tent out and top up at night. It’s a setup that requires a goodly sacrifice to the Rain Gods; if it rains, you can either get wet or make the passenger walk.
That was me. So I put in the time for a lot of sacrfices and anti-rain dances. It worked; the weather was clear and as warm as one can reasonably expect that far north.

The trip went over the ferry to the Olympic peninsula, along Highway 101. A stop at Lake Quinault was necessary; from there you can take a hike through a Pacific Northwest rainforest. No tropical flora is actually present; it’s mostly spruce and hemlock. The definition of a rainforest is apparently in the quantity of rain dropped. I’m jealous; I get that much water in my apartment, but no one ever called it a rainforest.
I later found some interesting info on the Hoh forest - I dropped it into a separate page, as it’s a bit long to post here. The forest is a gorgeous hike, with old trees draped in moss, and wildflowers and ferns growing from deadfall. A local snake sunning on a log agreed to pose for a photo, with a little blush and mascara.

From there it was on past the Hoh rainforest to Morla, a campsite only three miles from Rialto beach.
I have seen pictures of beaches with crags rising up offshore, covered in lichen and trees, with birds circling at sunset; I never believed that those actually existed. But there they were, and still are, and will be long after I’m gone. You can sit on the rock-strewn beach, bleached tangles of beached logs at your back, and watch the sun sparkle on the water as it sets, illuminating cormorants diving for fish.

Once back at the campsite, we experienced the requisite kids-on-bikes-ogling-the-car. Kids love Zs, and 'wow' unashamedly. We also experienced the challenge of how to start a fire with no matches, a paper bag, one random cigarette, and a BMW lighter. 2 minutes; pencils down.

The next morning featured a quick drive over the top of the peninsula, with a trip beside Crescent Lake. This lake was formed by a glacier cutting through the mountains, so it is abrupt, deep, clear, and almost completely undeveloped. It is eerily silent, and the quiet ticking of the car’s shut-down engine sounds like a clarion.
From there it’s a short drive to Kingston, and ferry ride home; back to lab, work, rat race.

I need to do that more often.