{"id":845,"date":"2026-06-14T03:02:40","date_gmt":"2026-06-14T03:02:40","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/dorukakan.com\/doruk\/?p=845"},"modified":"2026-06-14T03:02:41","modified_gmt":"2026-06-14T03:02:41","slug":"a-journey-to-the-west-part-one","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/dorukakan.com\/doruk\/2026\/06\/14\/a-journey-to-the-west-part-one\/","title":{"rendered":"A Journey to the West: Part One"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

The western United States is vast and it contains multitudes. I am always astounded at the enormity of everything: the mountains, the forests, the distances. Whenever I make my way to the pacific time zone I do so with the resigned understanding that I will be driving for countless hours over thousands of miles. It is such a different feeling from the Atlantic coast east of the Appalachians, where you can reach a major metropolis in any direction within a few hours without a major desert or lake or forest obstructing your merry progress. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The West is different and the Pacific Northwest – and specifically the Olympic Peninsula of Washington state – is representative of the vast distances and the vast diversity of environments on offer. In its 3600 square miles, about the size of Delaware, the peninsula contains alpine, coastal and rainforest ecosystems, each resplendent and unique in their majesty and beauty.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I made my way to the Olympic peninsula as the first stop on a two week long (approximately) west coast trip and spent some time on my first day exploring its alpine offerings. First, a few words expounding on driving in the West. Yes, as I mentioned, it is countless hours over thousands of miles but there is something about the driving that feels less tiring. Probably the unending natural beauty that surrounds you, its scope and grandeur encroaching relentlessly even unto interstates in defiance of the concrete jungles that we prefer to create around our urban centers. Of course, the West is not without its mind numbing traffic and there are few experiences more frustrating than that of being stuck behind a trailer on a one lane highway no matter how pretty it is. But by and large the experience is more tranquil than the usual long jaunts.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I drove to the Olympic peninsula direct from Seattle, not stopping for a moment except as dictated by the rush hour traffic that is one of humankind\u2019s lasting contributions to our planet. I eschewed the ferry and took instead the overland route, which unwittingly and excitingly, led me over one of the most iconic bridges in engineering history. Or, rather, the bridge that replaced one of the most iconic bridges: the Tacoma Narrows bridge. There is nothing particularly special about it in its existence but its destruction provided an unforgettable lesson for engineers and architects. Watch the video. No structure should move the way the Tacoma Narrows bridge moved before its collapse in the 1940s. Suffice it to say, the modern version is much sounder as it spans an inlet of the Puget Sound.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Eventually, after a couple of hours driving in gloriously representative gloomy and drizzly weather I found myself in Port Angeles, Washington, the northern hub of the peninsula and the gateway to the alpine parts of Olympic National Park. It is a small city whose northern coast offers a view of Canada\u2019s Victoria Island across the Salish Sea. In the two days I spent there, having my lunches and dinners, and strolling the few blocks of the downtown, I found myself pondering how the people who lived here lived here and why they lived here. If I was a more sociable person I\u2019m sure there would be fascinating stories of families that have lived there for generations as well as itinerant travelers who ended up putting their roots there. In many ways, it is like any other town in the country, where the population is buoyed by tourists like me but lives their daily lives like anyone else. I passed by the local high school a half dozen times and drove through residential neighborhoods. I live in the same country and I can\u2019t think of a location as distant from where I grew up but it felt so very familiar.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The nice thing about being a visitor from the east coast is that I continue to operate on east coast time. The advantage for an avid hiker like myself means that I rise early without any undue effort and find myself at the trailhead before the hordes of other tourists. My first hike of my trip continued a timeworn tradition: for whatever reason my first hike is always the most strenuous as if a long flight and a long drive the day before refreshed my energy stores (nope: they certainly did not). And so I chose to scale Mount Storm King and laced up my boots at 8AM in a parking lot with only a handful of other vehicles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

What a name! I haven\u2019t found its origins – though my research efforts have been light at best – but I would imagine it is drawn from the languages of the local indigenous peoples. Indeed, one legend tells a story of the rage of Mount Storm King at warring tribes at its roots, leading it to throw a boulder at the bellicants, leading to the creation of the two lakes to its north. Also, perhaps even more fantastically, 3000 years ago an earthquake caused a landslide so massive it created a mega tsunami in the larger of the lakes, Lake Crescent. Yikes\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The hike itself is strenuous. Starting with a lovely stroll in old forest growth with broad leaf maples covered in moss and surrounded by ferns, the trail to the peak soon becomes a punishingly steep ascent across never ending switchbacks. I suppose experienced alpine hikers would enjoy the climb but for the rest of us it is hard to appreciate the beauty of the firs and hemlocks and other evergreens – and indeed there is so much green – around us as we labor to eliminate the burn in our legs and hope our hearts will stop pounding in our ears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The last section beyond the maintained trail requires ropes to ascend even for the most surefooted. I came prepared for the ropes but the physical demands of the hike almost led me to avoid them. I was exhausted. I discussed the situation with a couple of other hikers as we balanced precariously 4000 feet up and watched as a family with two youths came up behind us, obviously prepared to go up the ropes. I have mostly discarded vanity as I have matured (or at least gotten older – matured may be pushing things a bit too far) but the thought of two pre-adolescent children completing the course as I turned back was an indignity too much to bear. Ultimately it was much ado about nothing as the challenge was mostly mental and that too was more because of the fatigue of the climb up to that point.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The payoff at the top was worth it. I have seen many lakes from many peaks thousands of feet above their waters but the view never gets old. Each is unique in its own right and drinking in the view is as refreshing and energizing as drinking from my thermos. I am however unfortunately a servant of another of the most pernicious of humankinds\u2019s inventions: the schedule. If I was a simpler man with time to spare I should have spent more time pondering the glacial waters of Lake crescent 1500 meters away and the lush green valleys of the surrounding peaks. Instead I made do with a few moments of deep reflection and gratitude at the experience, the fortune that allowed me to be in that place at that time. Places to go, things to do, lunches to eat, and so forth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The less said about the descent the better as, of course, what goes up must go down and what goes down on a mountain usually ends up with sore knees. The trail was much busier now, though not at the levels of the uberpopular hikes as it is not one of the famous ones of the park.I allowed myself some grim satisfaction watching the struggles of so many people, forgetting, deliberately, that I too was like them not so long ago. I do also enjoy eavesdropping on the conversations of hikers but there were few interesting conversations on this trail as most people were focused on gulping in oxygen to support their exertions. I did pass one mother and father, with three girls in tow, discussing Clytemnestra, rather randomly. Though perhaps not so random given this was in Olympic National Park in the Olympic peninsula with its own Mount Olympus.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The rest of the day was fairly unremarkable. A quick stop at Marymere Falls at the base of Mount Storm King was pleasant but nothing more than a photo opportunity. The big foray for the afternoon was Hurricane Ridge but it turned out the trail to the top was closed (the NPS alert was a bit misleading about this). Still, I joined dozens of other tourists to gaze on a few snow-capped peaks, which was lovely despite the yammering, and a handful of others to explore the foggy trails beyond the parking lots. This was an unexpected pleasure as the fog was so heavy that it obscured any view of the valleys below and wrapped the conifers in an ethereal blanket. It felt like walking in a cloud. Despite my inability to go further up the mountain, and despite the large crowds, I drove down shaking my head at the wonders I had seen that day – but not too vigorously as the fog was rather heavy by that point. Safety first! Get home safe!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

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The western United States is vast and it contains multitudes. I am always astounded at the enormity of everything: the mountains, the forests, the distances. Whenever I make my way to the pacific time zone I do so with the resigned understanding that I will be driving for countless hours over thousands of miles. It […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[7],"tags":[53,52],"class_list":["post-845","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-travel","tag-olympic-national-park","tag-pnw"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/dorukakan.com\/doruk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/845","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/dorukakan.com\/doruk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/dorukakan.com\/doruk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dorukakan.com\/doruk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dorukakan.com\/doruk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=845"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/dorukakan.com\/doruk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/845\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":856,"href":"https:\/\/dorukakan.com\/doruk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/845\/revisions\/856"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/dorukakan.com\/doruk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=845"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dorukakan.com\/doruk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=845"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/dorukakan.com\/doruk\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=845"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}