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= Day 2 Elwha Dam RV Park to Log Cabin Resort, Lake Crescent 16.22 miles =
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== Setting out on the Olympic Adventure Trail ==
The Olympic Discover Trail has a gap from the west side of Port Angeles to Lake Crescent. The official maps suggest a route on highway 112 and an active logging road. The other obvious option was 101, but this included some miles shown on the map as narrow shoulder. Back in Port Townsend on day -1, we were lucky to meet up with a knowledgeable and friendly bike shop guy while we were purchasing our rear view mirrors. We were all surprised when he suggested we take the Olympic Adventure Trail, a single track. Multiple other riders warned us against 112, so we decided to give the start of the single track a try, expecting to ditch onto an unused forest service road for a few miles on 101.
So, here we go, off the pavement and onto the dirt.
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== On the Trail with The Sandal Angel ==
The knowledgeable friendly bike shop buy told us he steepest part of the trail was the first couple miles, so we were pleased to reach mile marker 1.5 just before our first opportunity to ditch out on the FS road. While drinking waters and debating whether to stay on the trail, a runner we'd passed on her way down a good while back runs up and breathlessly presents Annmarie's sandal which had dropped from her bike.
After profusely thanking her for running the sandal back up the hill, we ask her about the trail ahead. She let us know there would be multiple opportunities Her advice helped us decide to keep going on the trail.
These next two photos are out of focus but they show the joy we all felt.
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== The View we didn't Skip ==
We keep on the trail passing a couple more opportunities to ditch to the FS road, and the trail rewards our persistence with a fabulous flowly descent to this incredible view.
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== FS Road Cutoff ==
Happily David spots the last chance to get to the FS road and we start downhill on gravel. But not all downhill for example this stream crossing.
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We pass thru open meadows filled with flowers and butterflies. Our road soon drops to parallel to Falls Creek. The forest near the creek is lush with moss and filled with a vast variety of trees. We are saddened to see signs indicating that the road will soon be widened to allow trucks thru for a timber sale.
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Portions of the road are very muddy, Monica's bike and trailer show stellar performance thru the difficult sections. Even those times when she felt, "will I make it, or will I go down," she went for it and emerged unscathed and unmuddied, untethered from worry, having a ball. She did take a few looks back to notice David and Annemarie were far behind. David's shoes did get a bit of a mudbath, but no serious falls were had.
We stop just before the end of the trail for a snack break and to strategize how to get the bikes down overly steep uneven dusty loose trail down to the road. Like a slide at the playground, but made of dry dusty rutted dirt, and us with loaded bikes weighing over 40 pounds each. After snacks we decide to go for it with bikes loaded, bracing our feet against the walls of the trench, holding breaks and sort of sliding/stumbling down we manage it.
== Short Stretch on 101 ==
Back in civilization, we ride the smelly loud shoulder of highway 101. Hot. Very Hot. Dry. Stopping at the Shadow Mountain Store, Monica discovers the joy of Gatorade. "This stuff never tasted good before, but today I love it." Annemarie meets a new furry friend.
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== Arriving at Lake Crescent ==
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We reach the Lake Crescent we stop in at the lodge, and find that we are in the incredibly lucky place that there is a site which just opened up. We convene in the entry lounge to decide whether to stay or to continue on hoping for a campsite past the lake. David Hems. Annmarie Haws. Monica waits impatiently. After some time of indecision, Monica lays down a time limit ultimatum. When the timer expires, both Annmarie and David manage to make statements which are almost nearly an expression of choice, tho emphasizing being open to all possibilities. The writer cannot fully confirm nor deny an eye roll on Monica's part. We take the site, as Monica had known all along we would.
At long last we jump into the lake. Swimming out toward the crystal clear depths, the water takes on sky blue tint. David has a religious experience gazing into the blue infinite depth.
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The campsites at the Log Cabin Lodge are about as wide as an RV with space just a bit wider than a picnic table between them. We find just enough room for our tents and are early to bed after dinner only to be awoken by the arrival hours later of neighbors, who converse loudly, pound tent stakes for a really incomprehensibly long time, and finally begin to inflate what must have been a 10 inch thick king size air mattress with a battery powered pump. Our groan and suggestive sighs make no impression. Finally after the air pump has been running, Monica, yells out, "you need to stop this now, we are trying to sleep."
"We're almost done," replies the neighbor.
"No," says Monica, "you are done."
Relative silence descends. We sleep.
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