Olympic Peninsula

Manuel and I went to the Olympic Peninsula for a grand total of two days.
But in those days, we crammed in quite a bit of experiences.
We got up as the ass-crack of dawn to hop on a 7 o'clock ferry from Edmonds to Kingston.
After that we had a few hours trip along the northern edge of the peninsula until we came to Neah Bay. The weather started to get bad, but it quickly dissipated.
After long, windy roads, we came to long, windy, dirt roads that eventually brought us to a trailhead that would poop us out to the furthest northwest extent of the contiguous 48 United States.

For the most part, we followed the boardwalk beautifully laid out before us, but when it came time to see the actual tip, we had to do some bushwhacking. It wasn't that bad, the scratches were minimal, and I even found a nalgene bottle along with waterproof matches, that some other bushwhacker had lost.
Between the two of us, pictures were a-plenty of us being at this extremity of the US and other places below and beyond our reach, like Tatoosh Island.

Once we found the edge and could go no further, we headed back to explore the inlets.
It was a tiring task of wrestling bushes and hopping over fallen logs, but I found a way down and informed Manuel of where to follow. That's where I spooked a bald eagle, but wasn't quick enough with the camera to catch a shot. It circled around the trees and never came back.

At the bottom we found caves. Most were small indents, but others went back far enough to were a flashlight would be necessary. The one linked to above had a small opening that was just wide enough for me to squeeze through. With more patience and bravery I could have snuck even further back into its recesses, but I had already seen enough.

With the tide going out we were able to cover more ground, and searching deeper into the inlet, we found a waterfall. We had to grapple with slippery and slimy logs, but we eventually made our way to its base. Beyond the falls itself, there was another cave, but that would require getting wet at least up to one's waist to explore.
Maybe if I had more time and a bathing suit, towel, and flashlight, I would have tried it out, but without all those "necessities", I was perfectly content with my death-grip on the slimy logs.

Again with lower tide, we were able to go from the north side of the inlet to the south side and wind around to where there were some tidepools and an actual arch that had been carved out by ocean waves.
Underneath was some sea life, mainly mussels and sea anenomes. That has to be one of the better pictures I've ever taken of any animal.

The tide got really low for the journey back which made it quick and easy.
So after our trip to Cape Flattery, we set our marks on Shi Shi (shy-shy) beach and ultimately the Point of Arches.

We stuck around through sunset, but thought that might be the best time to start heading home. But before doing so, we made sure to get enough good shots as proof of our being there.

The hike back was a bit odd. At first we couldn't find the trail on the beach leading back to the top of the bluffs above us.
Once up there, we realized that any light that remained was blocked out by the forest canopy.
Luckily for us, when we were exploring the caves at Cape Flattery, it prompted me to bring my headlamp in case we found more caves at the Point of Arches.
While there were some small caves there, the headlamp came in much more handy on the hike back through the mud river that some call a "trail". Otherwise we would have either had to spend the night on the beach in a cave, or take all night sludging through the ankle-deep mud, feeling with every step through the pitch-black forest.

I do need to take some time out here and congratulate Manuel on a fine job in this adventure. His only source of light was coming from my forehead so he was probably tripping way more than I was. To go along with that, he's not quite the experienced hiker that I am, but he put everything into our trek back to the van, even if he was utterly exhausted.
That's why I don't mind taking him places. I've come to realize that I can (or choose to)exert myself a bit more than your average person, and Manuel has that same characteristic.
Along with this hike, not nearly as much snorking would have gone down without his drive.

Moving on. Once back at Neah Bay we grabbed a bite from the only place that was open. Or rather it was closed, but the woman forgot to turn off her neon "OPEN" light, and we caught her right as she was leaving, so she took pity on us and fried up some burgers for our weary bodies.

From there we drove to Forks and spent the night in a Thriftway gravel parking lot. We woke up to a pasture full of horses and a guy parachuting with a fan strapped to his back.

We got some supplies, washed up a bit in the Thriftway restrooms and headed down south to the Hoh Rainforest. We jumped on a trail and headed inland toward the mountains following the Hoh River, but a couple miles in, we came to a small stream...
To the left of the trail was a bridge made from a fallen log with its top shaved to create a flat surface. A hand rail was also attached to keep from slipping. The only problem was that the log had split and was now making a V-shape over the small creek.
Even though I've slipped on similar constuctions before, I still had to try it.
So I hopped up on it and carefully lowered myself to the base of the V. Apparently it wasn't gently enough. My right foot slipped, I landed on my ass. I still had a grip on the hand rail, but not well enough to keep me from toppling into the creek.
Luckily it was only about knee-deep and almost at a stand still.
I heard a crunch, but I think it was only a plastic water bottle from the Thriftway.
My camera was dry and my underwater case wasn't broken.
The only bad thing was that my feet were retaining puddles of water.
I took off my boots and wrung out my wool socks. Brown water flowed forth. Yum.
Since they were all I had, I put them back on and asked Manuel if it was ok if we headed back.
He agreed.

This time I go to cross the creek where Manuel had on the right side of the trial simply to find that the water wasn't even deep enough there to reach beyond the rubber sole of my boot.
Oh well. My pants were quick-drying and we got to have lunch when we got back anyway.

Once back in the parking lot, we blew by the ranger station, leaving them $15 poorer and we made our way by Crescent Lake, and back to Port Angeles where we were hoping to head up to Hurricane Ridge. Unfortunately, the road to the ridge is closed Monday through Wednesday. We were there Wednesday.

Undaunted, and actually somewhat relieved, we both decided that it would be best to just head home so we could relax. Hiking was mostly off the agenda by this time as we were both gimping from any point A to point B, no matter how short of a distance.

Overall it was an exciting trip and I accomplished everything I wanted to do.
Hopefully Manuel feels the same way.
With the coming summer, hopefully trips like these will be more plentiful.

Luck of the Irish

Maybe I'm Irish, who knows. I've been mistaken for an Irishman before, and damned if I don't look like a leprauchan when I'm sporting a full, red beard.

But this weekend I think I truely think I had the luck of the Irish.
On Friday I went into work only to be informed that I won a $25 store gift card.
On top of that, it was double discount day.
So I bought a shirt, a pair of shorts, flip-flops, AND a floating ice chest that carries beers, all for under that $25 mark,
leaving me with a dollar to go toward my lunch the next day.

Then I went out on Sunday to a friends BBQ where we play a friendly round of poker.
I never have the attention span for such a game, but last night I stuck it out.
Usually when it's down to the last 3 people, I think to myself that I've done well enough, so I start playing sloppy.
But last night I finally figured out the game (how to effectively bet), and by the time there were 3 of us left, I had a majority of the pot.
Calen played a good hand, but went out, leaving just me and the hostess.
Sorry, but I had to continue playing balls-out. She didn't mind, she brought it too.

The final hand came to and all-in battle right after the initial flop.
With all cards showing, I picked up the straight on the turn (4th card).
Money. Now I'm $30 richer.

Well, actually, overall I became $55 richer this weekend.
So maybe I am lucky.

But I still have to work every damn weekend, so who am I kidding?

Deep dive

The deepest wreck dive: Sharm El Sheikh, Egypt. 205m (670ft)

If you don't want to read the article, this is what I found to be the most interesting.

Firstly, checking to prevent the bends:

Upon reaching Trafco jetty, we left the team and went over to see Dr Adel and Ahmed in the Sharm Hyperbaric facility, so that they could run some tests. They had a new machine called a slit scanner that can detect minute bubble formation in the tear film on the diver’s eyes. We were both given a clean bill of health and returned to Ocean Tec blending station to give a hand pumping all the gas for the big dive on Friday.

Second, coming upon the wreck:

The drop was perfect. The bow of the wreck came into view at 130m, and we descended onto the wreck itself slowly swimming down along the length of its remains. As I reached 195m, a large bang went off behind my left ear, and my dry suit inflator stopped working. I came to a halt at 205m as measured on our dive computers, a Suunto D9 and a Nitek 3.

As we levelled, we could see that we were just under the stern of the wreck, and that the ship was perched on a ledge roughly 40m wide. Beyond this, a vertical wall descended into the abyss. The wreck had slid down the reef walls and slammed into this small ledge stern first. The rest of the wreck crumpled under the force. There she rests to this day slowly filling with sand.

As we swam under the stern my pressure gauge imploded on my intermediate Trimix (16/43). Luckily no leaks occurred, and it just filled with water. One of Leigh’s computers imploded squashing the LCD screen (Vytec).

We finished the bottom time by swimming up the other side of the wreck and surveyed all the scattered wreckage that lay around the site. We gave each other the up signal after a bottom time on the wreck of 5.5 minutes and slowly rose back into the dark blue water. As we did so, we got a fantastic view of the wreck.

The thing that was weird though, was that these people didn't want safety divers with them at the deeper deco stages. The author said he almost had to book to 80 meters when his reg seemingly failed him, but eventually worked. That wouldn't have killed him, but would have put him in a deco chamber for a long, long time.
Whatever, they're British.

Sealab

Real life Sealab 2021!
Located in the Florida Keys.

Done?

damn near done getting those apps together.
although my one prof asked if the deadline was before march 17th, cuz we'll i guess there's finals and shit going on up until then.
the deadline is the 15th.
that'll make everyone very happy...........or something.

in totally different news:
hairy, blind lobsters were found.

Composition

Fuck my writing. I try to pack as much information as possible into one single sentence.
It's too hard to break up one single idea into so many seperate packets.
Hate it!

Tin Cup Joe

I found this waterfall online when looking for something to do.
It's called Tin Cup Joe Falls.

In the directions it states:

I do not recommend trying to reach the base of the main part of the falls if the creek is running high unless you have some sort of masochistic tendency.

Now that's right up my alley. Maybe I'll go next week if the weather isn't all that bad and I have time. Anyone's free to come with me, although you can't be a pussy about it.
It's located a bit past North Bend. This time I'll be prepared for a hike.

Ling

So the fish that I wrote about in the last post that was guarding its eggs is called a Ling Cod.
This gives you an idea of its size.
And this gives you an idea of what its like to have one stare you down.

Next week I'm going to Redondo, nearer to Tacoma.
Maybe I'll bring my camera. Haven't gone too deep over there yet.
That's where I first learned to use my drysuit.

Alki

Went diving at Alki last night. The latest dive I've ever done, timewise.
Now that I have my pimpin light, I can do that.

However, this time around, I was a moron and had low air on my tank.
Usually you have arouind 26-3200 PSI in your tank, but for some reason mine only had around 1900 PSI when I put on the reg and checked out the SPG.

So that meant that if I wanted to dive for any extended amount of time, that my buddy, Cory, and I needed to stay fairly shallow. Because the deeper you go, the more your air gets compressed, therefore you go through more air because you're breathing that compressed air in the same amounts as you would at or nearer the suface. (Does that make sense?)

So we head out, I fumble along and get all my gear on. turn on my light, and *BLAT!*
so bright! I feel kinda bad, cuz I buy all the expensive toys while Cory just continues doing his thing and knows 100 times more about diving than I do. He should have the cool toys...
My light is 18 watts. His is 10 watts. There's a very noticable difference.

Diving down, we go to the Honey Bear, that shipwrecked tug that we almost always go by.
But this time we came upon it from the north, at a different angle, where a piece of the hull is jutting up from the bottom of the Sound. I shine my new light in its crevices to see if anything's hiding out.
At first glance, I see nothing. But then I shine my beam around everywhere to see that there are kelp crabs clinging to the hull like bats; their claws are dangling below them, it's an eerie sight. (Wish I had my camera. Although I also kind of don't because that light was a handfull for the first time around.)

We pass that by and swim around some more. We see more of the usual, giant starfish. They're as large as the biggest circle you can make by holding your arms out infront of you in that shape, rather impressive. Some are purple, some orange, some brown.

Later on, we came to another pile of debris, maybe a metal plate. Underneath its slight foot-wide gape sat a huge purple fish. I've seen this kind before hanging out at the Honey Bear, but this one seemed so much closer, as its recesses aren't as deep. I couldn't tell how long the fish was, maybe 3 - 4 feet, But its head was oblong, maybe 8"x4", its eyeball an impressive size of something like a large grape or small apricot. It was staring us down from about 4 feet away, rhythmically batting it's pectoral (?) fins, maybe to keep circulation for the nest that it was protecting. Maybe I'll ask Cory about what kind of fish that was. I'm certain he's told me before, but I get so many names in my head.
Up above that fish was another cluster of eggs in a nook that were left unprotected. I wonder who was slacking on the job with that one.

Beyond that, that was the extent of our excitement.
However, when on the surface, Cory was telling me of an adventure he was told about in the parking lot that others had just the night before.
Apparently they said that they saw a fish wizz by their masks, apparently in a hurry.
Right behind that fish was a harbor seal hungrily in pursuit.
Barely another moment had passed when a six-gill shark flew by them in the same path seeking out the seal.
Hurray for an intimate example of the food chain.
Gary Larson couldn't come up with anything better.
OK. Maybe if he weren't freaking retired he could...

Another recent story was posted that a 10-foot six-gill was spotted.
That made even the more advanced divers wet their dry suits.
The more common six-gills in the Sound only reach to about 5 or 6 feet in length.
Maybe we've got an old-timer on our hands.