Dear Olympic National Park,
It’s not you, it’s me.
Usually, I like knowing something about my destination before I get there, especially when I’m planning to visit a National Park. I’ll make a point of scanning the internet or paging through some travel books, gathering information about your geography and your attractions before my arrival.
For starters, it gives me a better sense of how close we can get to you, which is important to me, considering I have little interest in a long-distance relationship.
But this time around, I didn’t do my homework. I suppose I could blame it on solar eclipse fever— my frantically searching for totality-zone accommodations in Oregon—such that I skipped an Olympic step and planned without thinking clearly.
Instead of settling by Port Angeles—at the north gate of your park—we arranged to camp by Lake Cushman on Skokomish tribal land near your Staircase entrance. At…
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