Puget Sound Challenge – Day 6

Posted by Ken Campbell March 28, 2009 0 Comment 579 views


I awoke to a damp sleeping bag, the night’s condensation soaking through to chill me before I even got out of bed. I don’t know what the temperatures got down to during the night, but when I got up, well before sunrise, it was still below freezing. As I packed up the camp, a fog moved in, to the point that when I was ready to go, visibility was less than 50 feet.

I’d been sweating the next part of the trip since I started planning it. With a name like Foulweather Bluff, I figured I might be in for some rough water as I turned the corner. Everything I’d heard had prepared me for a tough day.

And it was tough, at least at first, but not because of rocky conditions. The visibility made it almost impossible to travel in any sort of rational line. I jigged and jagged along the hazy shoreline, until even that wasn’t an option; I ended up navigating by the depth of the water. I watched the sand dollars and shells on the bottom – when the water got so deep that I couldn’t make out the details, I turned back toward the shallower zones. The surface was pure glass, smooth as satin.

As I rounded the point at Foulweather Bluff, the fog began to lift. By the time I made it to Hansville, the day had become a sunny one. Being that it was legitimately lunchtime, I stopped at the Hansville store for a bite to eat. Before I could get inside, a girl came out of the store and walked over toward me.

“Are you the guy that’s surfing around the peninsula?” she asked. When I told her that I was, and asked her how she knew about me, she responded, “Oh, people have been talking. I work in the store, so I hear it all.” She looked out at the board on the sandy beach, shielding her eyes from the glare. “Man, I wish I did cool shit like that.” Her name was Amy, and I told her I’d be in for a sandwich as soon as I dug my wallet out of the bag. “If you want a good one, get the Olympic. You can have it on a few different breads but sourdough is the biggest.”

She was right. It was big, and real good. I could see the light at Point No Point across the bay and, after I finished eating, I got back on the deck once again. The water was still flat as I crossed over to Point No Point, glided past the people walking the beach, and continued south.

The shoreline for the next 7 or 8 miles was fairly similar one mile to the next until my target for the day, Kingston, finally arrived. I could see the ferries as they entered and left the harbor on their runs across the sound to Edmonds and before long I was pitching camp on a little strand of beach east of the terminal. I went into town for dinner (I highly recommend the Main Street Ale House), and was in the sack just after dark.

The tide was a high one that night, to the point that I had to move the tent at 1:30 in the morning to escape a wetting. I found a little notch just out of reach of the rising tide and repitched the tent by the light of my headlamp. Other than that, the night passed uneventfully. Another solid day behind me and, although I knew I would not be making it all the way to Southworth – my optimistic target for this leg – I could be happy with what I had been able to get done.

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