Travels in Cascadia: Flattery Will Get You Nowhere, Except Really, Really Northwest

Is that a face in the crook of the tree?

The trail might well have been designed by gnomes, or maybe even menehune in the rainforest. The slats look uneven and hand-hewn but were sturdy, allowing us to avoid the numerous mud bogs in this, one of the wettest environments in the western United States. It was the trail to Cape Flattery on the Olympic Peninsula in the state of Washington.

We had spent several days driving to the Seattle area to meet up with the students and my fellow professor. We were setting out on our exploration of the geology and anthropology of British Columbia and northern Washington, a journey that would occupy the next two weeks. The first day took us from Seattle to the Olympic Peninsula where we would learn about the Makah people at Neah Bay. The tribal lands extend to the northwesternmost point of the lower 48 states. There has been a small bit of confusion about whether Cape Flattery is the westernmost point, but that honor goes to Cape Alava, five or six miles to the south and about 500 feet further west.

The cape once served as a fortification guarding the Strait of Juan de Fuca during World War II, but in the years since the area has been reclaimed by the forest. If you have walked this trail in the past, you may remember a very badly potholed road and parking area, but in the last few years, the access road was paved and is now a much gentler ride. Hiking the one-mile trail requires a $10/vehicle pass, available at the cultural center in Neah Bay.

According to at least one source, Cape Flattery was named by Captain James Cook in 1778, as he was "flattered" into thinking he had found the legendary Strait of Juan de Fuca, which he had, but didn't realize it. The small island off the coast (seen in the picture below) is called Tatoosh Island, named by Captain Meares in 1788 after meeting the Makah chief Tatooche at his summer encampment on the island. The island was selected for the construction of a lighthouse in 1849-50. The lighthouse was poorly constructed and was a miserable place to live, leading to tensions between some of the keepers. One story relates how the first principal keeper threw coffee into the face of an assistant. They decided to settle their differences with a gunfight. They fired at each other, each time missing, so they called it a draw and shook hands. Later, a third assistant admitted to removing the bullets from the shells in their guns.

The lighthouse was automated in 1977 and the island is under the jurisdiction of the Makah Nation. It is closed to visitation.

The geology of the cape is not apparent while hiking the trail. There is greenery and soil everywhere. The coastal cliffs reveal breccia and conglomerate that represent deposition in a marine basin near a rocky coast 42-44 million years ago. The source of the rocks was near Leech Creek on Vancouver Island across the Juan de Fuca Strait. The rocks were transported many miles by huge submarine landslides called turbidity currents.

The sea cliffs at the end of the trail are simply spectacular. There are a series of awesome sea caves, some of which are interconnected, accessible by kayaking (if you're nuts...). The trail ends in a group of wood platforms. Going any further down the sea cliffs is pretty dangerous.

The distinction of being the "northwesternmost" point is an artificial construct, but as long as we're going to point out such things, it might as well be as spectacular as possible, and Cape Flattery fits the bill nicely. I highly recommend this hike if you're ever in the area around Olympic National Park.

Information about this hike was gathered from several sources, including Carson and Babcock, Hiking Guide to Washington Geology, and Washington Division of Geology and Earth Resources Open-file Report 2003-5.

Northern Convergence: America's Pompeii and Sailing to Canada

The first day of our journey through western Canada and the Pacific Northwest continued...

Source: Wikipedia

On this lonely beach on the far northwest corner of the Contiguous United States a village once stood. It was home to some of the Makah people who still live in the region today at Neah Bay. The village, called Ozette, was finally abandoned by the Makah in 1917 because of directives from the federal government requiring their children to attend school. The Makah had lived at the location for at least 3,800 years. Their oral history spoke of a massive landslide that destroyed an earlier town, but not much thought was given to the idea of researching the site. Archaeology in the northwest is hampered by the fact that organic material doesn't do well in the very wet and acidic conditions of the temperate rainforest. For a people who dealt mostly in wood objects, excavation seemed pointless.  A few exploratory holes were dug in 1966-67, but little of interest was found.

Source: http://americanindiantah.com/lesson_plans/ml_makah.html

In the winter of 1969-1970, severe storm erosion exposed wood planks, and archaeologists and Makah people were alerted to the presence of surprisingly well-preserved artifacts. Excavations were begun and continued for 11 years. Some 55,000 artifacts were uncovered. It was an unconventional excavation: archaeologists didn't use brushes and dental picks; they used hoses. The wood and fabric artifacts had been preserved in oxygen-free mud, and needed to be immersed in preservatives before they could dry out and decay away. The excavations eventually uncovered six longhouses dating to around 500-550 years ago. A mudflow (quite possibly a seismically induced liquefaction event) had produced America's version of Pompeii: a perfectly preserved moment in time. For the Makah people, it was a affirmation of their cultural heritage. Many of the Makah participated in the excavations, knowing they were revealing the history of their own ancestors.

The Ozette site was backfilled and little is to be seen today, but hundreds of artifacts are on display at the museum at the Makah Cultural and Research Center in Neah Bay. We took the winding road through the second-growth rainforest to see the museum, and it was worth the long drive. The exhibits are extensive, and the collaboration between the archaeologists and Makah was clearly beneficial. I could feel the pride of the people through the exploration of their past.

Source: The Makah Cultural and Research Center

After our visit, we made our way east across the northernmost part of the Olympic Peninsula on our way back to Port Angeles. Our day had started very early, but there was still a lot to see, and we needed to get to the ferry for our 9:30 voyage to Vancouver Island and Victoria. In places the forest was so thick that it formed a canopy over the highway, but at other times road hugged the coastal cliffs, offering beautiful views of the water and Vancouver Island in the distance.

Photo by Mrs. Geotripper

We saw a few Bald Eagles in the distance, but I couldn't resist including the pair we saw the previous week on the beach. They may be kind of commonplace for the folks that live in the area, but I've only seen two or three of them in our region over the years. They are regal looking birds, even if they are troublemakers at times.

The California coast near where I live is rugged and beautiful, but has very few natural harbors. Glaciation and local geological conditions have produced many harbors in the Puget Sound and Strait of Juan de Fuca. We passed tiny Sekiu. From the hill above the bay we could see Vancouver Island in the distance. The road turned inland back into Olympic National Park.

Photo by Mrs. Geotripper

We passed along the shore of Lake Crescent, a most beautiful lake with a strange geological history. It is glacial in origin, filling a hollow where the ice scooped out softer rock. It is officially listed as having a depth of 624 feet, but that was because it was the deepest their equipment could measure. It is thought to actually be more than a thousand feet deep, but no one really knows for sure. The lake once drained to the east into Indian Creek, but a gigantic landslide about 8,000 years ago split the lake (Lake Sutherland is the other part). As Lake Crescent filled deeper and deeper, the water spilled over into a different drainage, the Lyre River, which flows northwest. Isolation of lake by Lyre Falls has resulted in the evolution of two subspecies of fish, the Beardslee Trout, and the Crescenti Cutthroat Trout.

Photo by Mrs. Geotripper

Another lake along the highway was notable for not being there. The Elwha river was dammed (damned?) a hundred years ago, destroying one of the richest salmon streams on the Olympic Peninsula. A century later, it was decided that the silted-in dams were essentially useless, and their removal was begun in 2011. The lakes have been drained, and it is hoped that salmon runs can be reestablished soon.

We arrived in Port Angeles, parked in the ferry loading area and wandered into town for dinner. The promised storm had not yet arrived, and the Olympic Mountains provided a dramatic backdrop for the quiet downtown area.

The ferry left at 9:30PM meaning we got a fine view of the sun setting over the Juan de Fuca Strait.

The water was calm as we started the 90 minute, 22 mile journey across the Strait.

Most of the passengers were commuters and had obviously been on the ferry many times. They hung out in the lounges and snack bars. But not our crew. It was all "King of the World" off the bow of the ship. Luckily there were no icebergs that night.

The lights of Victoria came into view and soon afterward we dock in the beautiful harbor. We passed through immigration/customs quickly (I think it was their bedtime), drove the two miles to our hotel, checked in, and finally got to sleep. We'd made it to Canada!

Nation's Birds at the Northwestern Corner of the Lower 48

Just a nice moment from my day. We were scouting out our impending field studies route with a trip to the Makah Nation's lands near Cape Flattery, the northwesternmost point of the lower 48 states. The Makah have a museum housing artifacts from America's version of Pompeii, a village that was overwhelmed by a mudflow about 500 years ago. The fine-grained mud protected and preserved fabrics and wood artifacts, which are usually quickly decayed in this wet environment.

We were driving the beautiful road along the coast when I saw this pair of Bald Eagles on the tidal flats. We have a few eagles back home in California, but I've only seen a couple of them. It was kind of a neat moment.

We meet our students in a couple of days, and we'll be hitting the highway with an exploration of western Canada and the Pacific Northwest. You can no doubt expect pictures soon!