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Published: August 25th 2010
Leigh Campground Host 2
Best shot I could muster of the Campground Host, Leigh (retired and employed for the summer)
Sunday, August 22 - Monday, August 23, 2010 More Hospitality from the Col… Thoroughly exhausted, both physically and mentally, from our Colonel Bob peak summit in the Colonel Bob Wilderness of the Olympic National Forest, Scott and I knew that it was again around 6:30 p.m. We needed to decide where to spend the night, our options being to try and continue around east to the only part of the park that we were not able to examine: the Southeast corner. However, in looking at the road atlas, we realized that there was no “bottom part to the Hwy 101 loop,” and it would actually be over 100 miles of driving (past dark).
The good karma was provided from the Colonel Bob once again, as we noted a Forest Service campground, Campbell Tree Grove only 5 miles more up the service road. A quick ride over lead us into a flat part of land that borders Pete’s Creek on one side and vertical, tree-covered mountains on the other. The area was as green as could be, and contained many large Fir, Cedar, and Hemlock Trees
(or, sometimes a combination of the two, as often in the rainforest, one will see a huge tree growing out of a “nurse stump.”).
There were only 3 parties, of 14 available spaces, set up around the camp. We took a nice low-lying spot, which had a small wooden staircase into a nice area, complete with a huge fir tree on site. We quickly pulled everything out of the truck and began to set up camp, happy to be in a sweet spot, complete with all of our conveniences (not just those that we had just been carrying on our backs). I drank a Rainier Beer, starting supper (a southern term), which was whole wheat pasta with Classico sauce (and a lot of parmesan cheese). We were going to gorge, feeding the primal senses that sometimes become ignited while camping/hiking.
Quirky Campground Host… I was on my second Rainier when a green Prius came and parked next to the truck. A skinny women, probably in here early-mid 70s bounded out of the vehicle and introduced herself as Leigh, the Campground Host.
Thinking that we were in some kind of trouble, having been there for
4 Campbell Tree Grove Campground View 2
Camping in the Forest Service campground was free! over an hour but not yet paying, I quickly said, “We looked around for a self-pay box, but didn’t see one.”
“Thanks because Campbell Tree Grove Campground is freeeeee!” Leigh replied, sending her arms and face upwards towards the heavens.
I wasn’t surprised that Leigh accepted my offer of a beer, as her mature features showed signs of a few nips off the ol’ bottle (many of my relatives bear the same look). As we ate (Leigh had declined, having just returned from an actual restaurant from Aberdeen, the closest town with services/groceries/showers/laundry, etc.), we chatted about the particular campground (saved, apparently, by a Ranger in the 1940s, who said to a logging big-wig while walking through the area, “No, I think you’ll not have these.”
Leigh, retired and from Portland (120 miles south, down I-5), spends one year traveling and one year “volunteering” (she did receive a small salary from the Forest Service, but it would be a paltry amount when compared to the cost on an on-site Ranger—even one to visit each day, with the campground being so remote). She regaled us with tales of exotic travel—living in Alaska, 2 years in Africa, South
Campbell Tree Grove Sophie
At Pete's Creek, Swimming hole America, and, as she was getting older, the southwest U.S., parts of Oregon, and here, in Olympic National Forest.
I drank the remaining Rainiers that I had brought over to her campsite, all 3 of us accepting her offer to make the fire over at here site, the sweetest of the lot. She slept in her van, but also had her Prius there, a screened-in picnic table, a tent set up, stacks of cut firewood (gifts from the Forest Service workers and previous campers—evidently, Leigh makes this—the social aspect, drinks included—a large part of her experience). Leigh returned with two tall boys of some “special, high-alcohol super-beer,” which did add to this already-surreal scene.
Her dog, Savanna—a rescue—caused a minor disturbance in the pack rank (Sophie had recently accepted Scott as the “Number 2”) by hopping on Scott’s lap. Scott sheepishly told Sophie, “Sorry,” as she backed away from the growling dog.
I tried to convince Leigh to go into the cold, forest creek at least once on her stay (she had only a couple of weeks left). This seems to be a thing of mine, and I’m 1 for 3 on the trip, with
Warming Log
Swim spot: Jump in first, then spend some time in the hot sun drying off. only Scott having accepted the challenge. I told her that we were going for a dip the following morning, but when we stopped by her site in the morning, she had company in the form of a pick-up truck, so I left a note of thanks and the blog address.
Last Rainforest Photos… The bright sun again provided excellent opportunities for photos, with large, beaming rays of light illuminating small patches of the dense, green forest floor. Then, it was on to the creek. Of particular animal-behavior note, Sophie watched me leave the site on the trail towards the creek, opting to remain near the bathroom for Scott to emerge. He said, “Where is he?” whereupon Sophie led Scott to the path.
As nice and relaxing as these 4 days/nights had been, at least 1 of us had to return to the real world; it was time to head back to Seattle, with us choosing the route of 101 South to Aberdeen, then east through Olympia, Tacoma, and onto I-5 North for the final 35 miles.
The slow drive down the final 22 miles of the gravel Forest Service Road ended my time
in the Olympic Peninsula, and, like many of the other places that I’ve had the pleasure to visit on this now 1-month trip, deserves easily another week, or even two.
When He Went to School…In Olympia… Technology now back on, and awaiting signals, we finally got a strong one near Olympia, the destination town for Scott and I way back in 1988. He attended Evergreen College, an “alternative college” that offers various natural paths, and the hippy ideals to support its many free-thinking students. We ate lunch at a microbrew/restaurant that we had 22 years ago, although I had no memories of Olympia at all from that time.
In a cool second-hand bookstore, there was no Carver to buy (I had given my copy of
Cathedral, purchased in the Boundary Waters area for $1.75 to the Belgians in Cascade National Park), but I did find a copy of a hilarious work of creative non-fiction,
Dishwasher, by Pete Jordan. It’s his goal to wash dishes in all 50 states, and is a great slice-of-life take on both restaurant work and its quirky drones. Bonus: It was autographed by the dishdog himself.
Through Tacoma, with its
quaint port, Tacomadome, and view of Rainier, offered not much else, and soon enough, we were booking along in the HOV lane north towards Seattle.
After arriving and unpacking, we looked at all the pictures, and I set to writing while Scott got ready for a church meeting.
Scott retired for bed at midnight; me and Sophie the dog at 2 (writing and posting). I had announced that I would be leaving Seattle the next day (Tuesday), but that did not happen, as I was tired, not caught up on the blogging, and, perhaps most pressing—the mountains of stuff that I have stacked all throughout this apartment. And, let’s not forget the couple of hours needed to clean all the dirt I’ve tracked in here. Oh, and the mounds of both dirt and 2-inch glaringly-white hairs offered by Sophie…
So…I will be leaving,
for real this time, tomorrow: Thursday August 26th, heading first to Portland, Or., then east, back to Chicago.
Chicago Dave and Sophie the dog, from Seattle
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Leigh
non-member comment
great write-up!
Have only been able to spend a bit of time but want to say great job on your summary though I won't be 68 till Sept 12 (:))--it was great visiting with you guys....come to Portland sometime....or, better yet, other parts of Oregon! Hope your trip home is a delight, Dave. Greetings to Scott, Leigh