The Moss Farm: Day 14: Scenic Beach State Park and the Olympic Peninsula

After we visited the Oregon Trail Museum we drove through the night to Washington State, stopping in Oregon to get gas and groceries. (And we made the surprising discovery that by Oregon law all gas stations are full service. It gave our sleep-deprived brains quite a jolt to see the gas station worker come running out as soon as we parked our van. "Is this full service?" "No, this is Oregon."

Our first destination was Scenic Beach State Park. We hadn't planned to go there at all, but Mommy saw a sign for it and it sounded like a good place for our breakfast picnic. It was wonderful to stretch our legs and eat the yummy bread and apricots that the Wards had sent with us.

Like his brothers, William loved the playground, the fireman's pole in particular.

After playing at the playground we hit the beach. It was so beautiful. (Looking back over old posts, I realize that I use the word "beautiful" many many times, but what else can a girl do when everything is beautiful?)

An oyster? A mussel? Whatever it is, it's pretty.

Oh the joy of it, I found a rock with my name on it! Too bad we couldn't take any rocks home with us or this would have made the perfect souvenir.

James, William, Thomas, and the oh-so-fascinating motorboat.

The camera doesn't really capture it, but the water was so clear, almost mirror-like. We could see the rocks on the bottom of the channel for a surprisingly long distance.

Eighty cold toes, 16 wet ankles, eight best friends, all one family.

The middle four boys found another hideout--I think they find one at every campsite along the way. This one, however had the advantage of a secret tunnel underneath the roots of a tree. The best part (for them) was that they forgot, or didn't heed, their wet clothes and feet and the result was mud with a capital "M".

Anna, Joy, John, Mommy, and Delie

At long last, after more hours of driving (and on my part, detouring--I have only driven thirty minutes of our entire trip and that ended in front of a factory--I wonder they don't let me drive more often :) ) we arrived safely in Olympic National Park. The forest was magnificent; the trees were gigantic, the ground was covered with moss, and each campsite felt so secluded.

The boys instantly set to work exploring our campsite and the surrounding woods. With such a backdrop, all they need is suits of Lincoln green to pass for Robin Hood and his merry men of Sherwood Forest.

They also like playing with their matchbox cars and trucks. Tree roots instantly become caves in their favorite camping game, simply known as "Trucks".

We left our sunny forest home and drove a mile to the coast for our first sight of the Pacific Ocean. It. Was. Amazing. The beach was covered with driftwood and smooth stones; it felt almost like another world.

This piece of driftwood on the beach was huge, with plenty of room for all of us to climb on; we probably could have pitched our tent on it. You know, a tree house for people who are scared of heights or something of that sort.

A far cry from the white Gulf Shores beaches we are accustomed to, Rialto was rocky, misty, wild, and frrreeeeezing. Some of us loved it and some of us not so much.