Point of Arches, Shi Shi beach

I've always wanted to go to Shi Shi beach, but I never expected to have it all to myself for three days of beautiful weather. I hit the ferry to Kingston on the first run of the day Sunday the 28th, and still didn't get to the parking area past Neah Bay at a house near the trailhead until 12:30, thanks largely to the icy and snowy toboggan path called ""State Route 112"". There is a pleasant road walk of 6/10s of a mile to the actual trailhead, which plunges into dark and dense woods. The new trail alternates between nice gravel and death-defying snowy boradwalks. Somehow I managed the boardwalks without a slip. There are several cool bridges, and each bridge, and sometimes just a section of trail, has its own name on a little wooden sign. Next comes the worst section, the mudholes. Epic mudholes. Mudholes for a mile or more, each one deeper and more impossible to bypass than the one before. Impossible in sneakers, but to the properly-booted, no problem. Once I figured out the secret, they were pussycats. Just plow right through the center, and be sure your boot comes up with your foot. Six inch deep mud is no match for 8 inch boots! Eventually the park boundary is reached, with a trail down to the beach that drops 200 ft in about 250 ft of trail. There were some nice campsites around, one occupied, so I took in the views and headed south. Point of Arches is in plain sight all the way down the beach, but is farther than it looks. By the time I got to the first, and best, campsite just before Petroleum creek, it was 4 pm and showtime. I put off setting up camp and just took in the sunset until the last glow was gone, about 5:30. Wow. Perfect weather capped by a great sunset. Then I rather suddenly realized that it was freezing cold, and I made dinner and set up my tent while it was cooking. I brought beaucoup warm clothes, so with the lack of wind and rain, I was fine. POA and the whole beach and ocean were awesome in the moonlight, especially the frost-covered driftwood. I finally succumbed to the lure of a warm sleeping bag at 10, and immediately fell asleep, for 12 hours.

Even at 10 am, the cold was astonishing. The beach was frozen like rock, so walking left no footprints. I lounged through my usual lazy morning, then realized I had a tidal deadline for exploring past POA. I headed south and came immediately to an obstacle: Petroleum creek was raging. I waded through barefoot, and it hurt. After 10 minutes or so I could begin to feel my toes, so I figured no permanent damage was done. POA is very cool. Every rock could be called ""Stegosaurus Rock"". To continue past to the aptly-named ""Point"" to the south, I had to go through a skinny arch. The little half-moon beach between POA and ""Point"" may be the coolest beach anywhere. ""Point"" is a great collection of sea-stacks, which can be wandered through at low tide. One is stained yellow by some kind of growth. I took a hundred pictures, and headed back to get around POA before the tide cut me off. Too late!!! I was trapped by the incoming ocean, doomed to an untimely death, or to at least to wait out the tide for several hours after dark. Then I rememberd I had brought my gaiters for just such an emergency. I put them on as tight as possible, and worked my way to safety, stepping in the shallowest places possible, and doing a few semi-dangerous rock-hops. I made it through with only minor sock-wetting, and I always carry a spare pair, so that was a relief. I didn't want to fill my boots with seawater, and the rocks were too harsh for bare feet. After drinking several beers, and watching another sunset, this time from POA southward, I felt like I could go on. I walked back to camp in the moonlight, fording Petroleum creek using the gaitor trick again to good effect. After dinner and the last of the barley pop, I considered a moonlight stroll back to POA and beyond to take advantage of another low tide, but it was by then too cold, mid-twenties at the most. The numerous streams crossing the beach were frozen solid. The night was crystal clear, with amazing stars and another bright moon.

Tuesday morning brought a complete weather change. Clouds everywhere, showers, snow, rain, all that nasty stuff. My campsite was protected under some bushy trees, so I was able to pack up nice and dry. I hung out as long as I could, taking in the beauty in the different light and atmosphere. Finally, it was 2 pm and I figured I better hit the trail. It seemed like the three days went by in 15 minutes. The hike back seemed like a week. It wasn't the rain, that was too drizzly/misty to bother me much, I was just tired and sad to be leaving. I plowed through the mudholes in reckless disregard, daring them to try to overtop my boots. Ha! They couldn't touch me. When I got to the last crossing of the old road, I turned left and hiked it out to the main road to avoid some of the worst icy boardwalks. I got back to the car at 4:30, utterly exhausted. The drive back to Port Angeles, about 70 miles, took 2 1/2 hours due to blizzard conditions the whole way, with no sand yet applied. Several cars found convenient ditches along the side of the road to rest in, but luckily the drivers were OK. More blizzard conditions plagued me on Hiway 104 to and across the Hood canal bridge. I finally made it home at 10:35, six hours after leaving. I was then attacked in a friendly way by a yellow dog and a yelow-haired woman. The end. PS- I only saw three other people the whole trip.