The map told me I had about 8 miles to do the first day. At 20 minutes per mile, I estimated it would take me 4 hours altogether with stopping for photos, food, and water. I wanted to have enough time to pitch camp and eat and read a bit before it got dark and I would sleep, which was around 6 pm. I figured 1 PM should be plenty of time.

I set my alarm for 5:30 AM, woke up at sunrise, packed up my van, and decided to detour up to Hurricane Ridge to check out the views. The map told me Sierra (My ’91 VW Vanagon) would have to climb about 4,000ft to the ridge. It was questionable whether or not she would be up for the journey, but I figured I could turn around at any point if it got too hot and let it cool down on the descent.

Luckily, the air was cool enough and the grade was gradual enough that Sierra, managed to inch her way up to the top at 30 mph. It being 6 AM, I wasn’t sharing the road with anyone, so there wasn’t a rush.

I rounded up the last of the hill and curved towards the parking log and Oh. My. God. I parked the van and took that photo you saw at the top of this page. Mountains on Mountains on Mountains with deep valleys and rivers between them, Glaciers on top and Alpine rocks above the treeline. It was my personal heaven.

I kept going down the road to the short 1.5 mile trail that took me to Hurricane Hill, the high point from which one can see far enough north to Victoria Island in Canada, and south to Mount Olympus. The hike itself wasn’t too interesting if I’m being honest. My brain wasn’t present in the moment, it was looking forward to the hike at the end of the day.

Making my way into town, I grabbed a quick two-egg breakfast at a slightly pompous breakfast joint in Port Angeles and stopped by Renaissance for some tea and Wifi. Cranked out some code.

I was going to be too late.

My first mistake was underestimating how long it would take me to get to the trailhead. Olympic National Park turned out to be much bigger than I had expected, and the trailhead was a full hour away, so time was ticking. I drove out west on the 101 from Port Angeles towards the Sol Duc Trailhead.

This was the furthest west I had gone on the peninsula, and the deeper I got, the more beautiful it got. I was astonished at the beauty of this place. At times, it felt like being in Norway all over again. I was anxious about time, so I didn’t stop for photos along the way as I passed near Crescent Lake. Just take my word for it.

Once I turned left onto Sol Duc Road, which would eventually lead me to the trailhead, I began to dive deeper and deeper into the forest. The deeper I got, the denser the forest got, and the more rainforest-like it looked. I could’ve been in Hawaii for all I knew.

A couple of miles in, I found the parking lot and started assembling my pack. Here are the contents of my pack:

1 Tent

1 Inflating, insulating pad

1 Sleeping bag

1 Pair of shorts

2 Polyester shirts

2 Pairs of wool underwear

2 Wool socks

1 Pair of insulating underwear

1 Bear Cannister (!)

2 Nature Valley bars, 1 Cliff Bar, 1 Shot Block, 1 Bag of Trailmix, 1 Bag of Beef Jerky. This represented a breakfast, two lunches, and one dinner. Not quite enough food.

1 MeFoto Tripod (So heavy)

1 Nikon D750 with 2 lenses, an 8-stop ND filter, and an extra battery

2 bottles of water with a water filter

1 copy of Jack Kerouac’s Big Sur

I had 3,000 feet to climb the first day.