For many years I’ve traveled throughout Oregon, but rarely travel through Washington. Most of the time when I travel in Washington, I’m usually either at Mt. St. Helens or in the Columbia Basin along the southern boundary of the state. The last time I was in the Washington Peninsula was in August, 2007, and that was at Port Angeles, Washington.

There is a gap that I never visited and that is U.S. 101, also known as the Olympic Highway, between Aberdeen and Port Angeles. The time is 5:15 a.m.and I hit the road, traveling down U.S. 30 to Astoria where I plan to head north on U.S. 101. However, I’ve already been on U.S. 101 between Astoria and Aberdeen back in 2008 when I photographed the defunct Satsop cooling towers.

As I’m traveling up U.S. 101 through the vast forest of young growth on commercial timberland, my interest fades and boredom begins to set in. The cloudy and drizzly weather inland may also be hampering my enthusiasm and motivation. However, I get a reprieve when I enter the Olympic National Park near Kalaloch Campground and I finally get to see the ocean and the sun. I turn off the highway and stop at Beach 4 to let the dogs out, stretch our legs, and shoot some photos of the beach and abandoned crab pots.

By lunchtime, I find myself in Forks, a small timber town that now flourishes under the Twilight blockbuster fame. For me personally, I’m just there to get food and I’m craving for local. Sully’s Burgers Drive-In sits off of U.S. 101 and I see that it is packed, so I’m thinking this may be a good place to grab a bite. In the end and my verdict: I’ve had better drive-in food at East Wind in Cascade Locks and at Mike’s Drive-In in my hometown of Milwaukie.

No way am I going to bee line to Port Angeles now with several hours daylight to spare. Near the town of Beaver, I head north on State Route 213 where it connects to State Route 212–The Strait of Juan de Fuca Scenic Highway to the most northwestern point of the state at Neah Bay, which is inside the Makah Indian Reservation. I see a bunch of fishing boats and a failed pontoon bridge span out in the bay.

On the way back, I make one last stop in Dungesness, a small town north of Sequim, to let my dogs out before the four hour drive back to Milwaukie. Will I make another visit to the Peninsula? Probably so, but not anytime soon.

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