Early in the morning the Lunch Box takes an uneventful 20 minute ride on the ferry across from Whidbey Island at Fort Casey to Port Townsend on the Olympic Peninsula. The Olympic Peninsula is the large land mass that lies in northwest Washington between Puget Sound and the Pacific Ocean. One of the last explored areas of the United States this is very rugged country, dominated by the Olympic Mountains in the center. Most of the peninsula lies within Olympic National Park, circled by Highway 101 and only penetrated by roads in a few places. There is no road across the peninsula through the national park. The mountains divide the peninsula between the rainy west, where rain forests thrive, and the drier eastern shore that lies in a rain shadow.
I have been here many times before and have been counting on some relief from the constant rain that I have endured since leaving Montana and as we follow a U-Haul truck off the ferry in Port Townsend the view is of the cliffs that line the shore and the 1893 Post Office and Customs House on the ridge above under partly cloudy skies.
Port Townsend
Port Townsend, today a small city of around 10,000 people, was founded in 1851 at the base of a line of cliffs on the western shore of Puget Sound on a large, protected bay and quickly flourished as a major seaport of the late 1800’s. As I have seen in other ports on Puget Sound, speculation that the railroads would reach the area created a brief economic boom around 1890 and the narrow downtown district tucked between the base of the cliffs erupted in Victorian grandeur. The railroads chose Seattle and Tacoma to be their terminal points and Port Townsend virtually became an abandoned city over night, dependent upon a slow economy woven from the benefits of the building of Fort Worden just north of the city, shipping, and timber mills. Since the bust occurred so quickly and there was little to replace it, the Victorian city center essentially sat for nearly 100 years untouched and in gentle decline. Then in the early 1970’s Port Townsend was “re-discovered” by retirees and “refugees” from the congestion and expense of the Seattle-Tacoma area. The downtown area and Victorian homes on the bluffs above have been restored and today Port Townsend is a gem of Victoriana. Just off the ferry I find a parking lot where the Lunch Box can rest while I wander the city. The ferry is still unloading cars in the background under partly sunny skies (and gloriously dry skies!) and looking north from the front of the Lunch Box I see the backs of the buildings that line the east side of the main street through the old city center.
“Modern-day” Port Townsend is south of the old city center around a large mill and the highway. West from the Lunch Box the southern end of the historic district begins.
There is little traffic this morning so I’m able to step out into the middle of the street and take a picture looking north.
Walk with me as I explore the shops and restaurants of Victorian Port Townsend.
About half-way up the street there’s a brief break in the buildings. To the east is a small park along the docks, to the west are the bluffs and the historic fire bell tower at the top of the cliffs watching over the town.
The north end of the business district is anchored by the massive 1890 Mt. Baker Block. Originally planned to be a hotel, the building was under construction at the height of the railroad speculation and then the announcement came that the railroad was not coming to Port Townsend. The economic bust that followed was severe and immediate. Construction stopped on the Mt Baker Block, the top two floors were never completed.
Across the intersection from the Mt Baker Block is another large Victorian office building, currently being remodeled.
The narrow strip of land below the cliffs was the location of the business district, homes and public buildings were constructed on the bluffs above. The 1893 Post Office and Custom House dominates the skyline on the edge of the cliff, further south is the 1892 Jefferson County Courthouse and its’ clock tower piercing the sky.
Locals were not the only ones who felt that Port Townsend was on the brink of greatness in advance of the decision about the railroad terminus, several foreign countries established consulates in the growing city. Near the county courthouse the 1889 German Consulate (now a bed and breakfast inn) stands in all of its Victorian glory.
The view east from the porch of the consulate looks past the lighthouse across Admiralty Inlet to Whidbey Island in the distance.
The blocks running north along the top of the cliffs are populated with Victorian homes, many restored, some now in use as bed and breakfast establishments.
Standing on the sidewalk across the street from the Custom House I can look over the rooftops of the downtown strip and across the ocean waters towards Fort Casey on Whidbey Island to the northeast.
My luck with the weather continues as I leave Port Townsend and head west across the top of the Olympic Peninsula to Port Angeles. For the most part the road winds through dense forest with occasional glimpse of the Strait of San Juan de Fuca to the north. A brief tour off Highway 101 takes me to Discovery Bay, an island of calm on this autumn morning.
Just past the bay is another one of those unique dreams that dot the back roads of America, Troll Haven.
Troll Haven
Troll Haven was built as a private estate by Garrett Bandy, inventor of special hinge used on aircraft doors. It is now a venue that can be used for events as well as a working farm with orchards of fruit trees. Because it is private property visitors can just explore it from the road.
Back on Highway 101 heading west the Olympic Mountains rise in waves of emerald green on my left.
One of the few roads into the interior of Olympic National Park begins in Port Angeles and heads south for about 17 miles into the park before ending at Hurricane Ridge. Let’s climb up the mountains!
Hurricane Ridge
The road into the interior of the park begins to climb immediately through dense forests framed by sharp peaks in the distance.
Near Hurricane Ridge I pull out and take a picture looking back down the valley towards Port Angeles and the ocean.
The terminus of the road is on Hurricane Ridge, a grass covered bluff that looks south into the heart of the Olympic Mountains. On this rare partly sunny day, the views are stunning from east to west.
As I turn around and begin the descent back to Port Angeles I have a little company along the road.
Closer to town the carpet of green reaches towards the ocean to the north.
Exiting the national park the road enters Port Angeles, descending towards the harbor.
Port Angeles
Port Angeles was named by the Spanish explorer Francisco de Eliza in 1791 when he found shelter in a harbor on the south side of the Strait of San Juan de Fuca. A small whaling and shipping village grew in the 1860’s, trading with the British in Victoria on Vancouver Island, just 25 miles to the north across the ocean strait. The general boom that hit the northwest in the 1890’s also impacted Port Angeles, which grew to a city of more than 3,000 people by 1890. Exploitation of the massive timber resources on the Olympic Peninsula provided the basis for the local economy, continuing, to a lesser extent, to this day. Tourism began to increase in the 1960’s and today is also a factor in the area. Port Angeles is a tale of two cities, Downtown and Uptown. Downtown is the historic bay front below the line of bluffs that form the edge of the forests that sweep down from the Olympic Mountains to the south. Standing on the edge of the bluff I can look out over the downtown area and across the port to the ocean above. That’s NOT Canada in the distance, that’s the sand spit that protects the harbor but Canada IS about 25 miles across the water.
Downtown consists of two one-way streets and the bay front tucked beneath the bluffs. The streets are lined with businesses in a mix of old and new buildings.
Residents in the neighborhoods above can take a short cut to and from downtown by walking down a staircase that zig-zags down the side of the bluff.
The Olympic Mountains are always present in any view to the south.
Not a charming restored Victorian village, Port Angeles is a gritty working town with lots to explore. It is also the major terminal for ferry service to and from Victoria, BC. The town sits roughly on the boundary between the drier rain shadow to the east and the much wetter west. Leaving Port Angeles and continuing west the world is swallowed by the immensity of the surrounding forests.
Next up: The Wet
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