It’s October – yes – but I don’t think it’s too late to talk about camping. In fact, fall is a spectacular time to go to the woods! But if you live around the PNW like I do, you’re going to want to triple check that rain forecast.
This summer my family and I didn’t get to go many places together, what with me being gone for three weeks and Annabelle having to be at play rehearsal and shows for almost two months. But just before the play schedule began, we found one night on the calendar that was empty enough to go camping, which is kind of turning out to be my favorite thing to do with these guys.
No one is more shocked than I am, trust me!
We headed a couple of hours up and over to the Olympic Peninsula, where we hit Ruby Beach. We’ve had a gorgeous sunrise photo hanging up in our home of this beach since just before we got married, but I’d never been. It was on our little summer bucket list.
I know everyone goes on and on about the Oregon Coast, but, damn, the Washington Coast is way more interesting to me. I think Ruby Beach wins first prize for the prettiest place we’ve been.
Of course, no trip that even comes close to a body of water would have been complete without Clementine accidentally on purpose falling in and getting her self completely soaked, followed by swimming in her clothes.
She gets it from me.
After our gorgeous afternoon at the beach, we headed back south a bit to my favorite place, Lake Quinault. We had scored one of the last camping spots at Willaby Creek, where we set up our mammoth tent that could sleep two families, no problem.
I am the designated fire-starter in our family, but this time I decided to try the “no-fail” method offered in Sunset Magazine’s summer camping issue this year.
Sunset, you majorly goofed! The teepee method will forever reign supreme! Your log cabin style just does not work.
Yes, I’m still glamping. I can’t help it. It’s kind of fun to spruce up the camping experience.
I love seeing the flannel print inside of my old sleeping bag my grandparents passed on to me years ago after it had seen us through many nights at Lena Creek. That sleeping bag has got to be older than I am, but it’s my favorite. It won’t get me through a night at Glacier or anything, but it doesn’t need to.
Seriously. You’d fall in love with this place, too.
This pool under the bridge turned out to be just the spot for a little semi-skinny-dipping: A little secret: we tempted fate with no rain fly. Guess who had to tear down camp the next morning in a surprise squall? Yep.
Are you a hard-core camper or a glamper? I’d love to know!
And if you’d like to get your own spot at Willaby Creek, here’s the link.
mrs. fresh scratch