I packed up my tent just as stealthily as I had set it up, opting for a mobile trail mix breakfast rather than my traditional oat-based fare. I managed to weave my way out of the Anacortes Community Forest and back onto a paved road.

Not too far down the road was a general store, “Lake Erie Grocery”. I stopped in for a cup of coffee and chatted up the owner for a little bit. Hopefully this would generate enough goodwill that I could sit on the pile of planks outside of his store for a few minutes. The owner told me that the store was almost 100 years old, and that his family had been running it since the 70s. I sat outside on the aforementioned pile of planks and enjoyed my coffee for a few minutes before forcing myself to continue down the road. A little network of trails brought me through the woods into Deception Pass State Park.

No thank you!
Two friends sharing a snack

I didn’t have much information about Deception Pass going in, but apparently it is known for its difficult currents. Water flows through the pass in opposite directions depending on the tide, and underwater rock formations make strange eddies that are dangerous for boats. For me, the main experience consisted of crossing a large bridge with zooming cars and trying to snap a picture without dropping my camera over the side.

A nice little sequence of trails brought me out of the park into a campground on the other side. I used the campground bathroom and sat outside the state park office for a gorp snack. A park ranger came up to me and asked me if I was hiking the PNT, and he let me know he’d seen two hikers (presumably Rebecca and Marguerite) just ahead.

I made some mental calculations regarding the amount of time left in the day versus the number of miles I had to hike, and got a bit concerned: At this rate, there was no way I’d get to the Happy House before dark. I looked at my map and saw that I could cut off a significant chunk of mileage by heading straight south from here and then walking along highway 20 for a bit. Despite my dislike of walking along highways, it felt like this was my only option unless I wanted to hike into the night. So I set off south on monkey Hill Road.

I’d been on the road for about 30 minutes when I heard the first plane. A military jet screamed low overhead, a deafening screech that jolted me out of my roadwalk daze. Another followed not long after. Then another. The planes continued that way for the whole afternoon – screeching overhead until my brain felt like it was going to rattle out of my ears.

I later saw a number of signs posted around the island saying things like “Save the naval base!” or “Naval Air Station Provides JOBS to Whidbey Island!” Apparently, the naval base there had recently started running training exercises with low-flying Growler jets, prompting an outcry from environmental activists regarding the incredible amount of noise pollution, followed by a reaction from people worried about the huge percentage of Whidbey Island’s population employed by the naval base. The Washington state attorney general filed a lawsuit that is still in progress as of 2022. I’m editorializing here, but what a sad, sick world we live in, where people are forced to depend on such parasitic institutions (e.g. naval bases) for their livelihoods, and modifying the operations of such a base means a real threat of poverty for so many people.

Anyway, I spent a large chunk of my afternoon walking on the uncomfortable shoulder of Highway 20 and listening to these jets roar overhead. As I joined back up with the PNT route (0976P) I saw two hikers far ahead of me decked out in gray. I tried to catch up with them for a while, but they were moving at a pretty fast pace. Eventually, though, I saw them pull over at a gas station. When I caught up, I saw that it was Justin and Kate, who I’d last abandoned in the Pasayten Wilderness! I was so glad to see some familiar faces. Even better, there was a taco truck at the gas station! We ordered tacos and sat at a picnic table to hang out. Rebecca and Marguerite showed up not long after – it was a veritable crowd of PNT hikers. We were all headed to the Happy House, so no one lingered for long. I think I was the last to leave.

A picturesque roadwalk along the beach

The evening hours dragged on, and my feet felt weary from the road miles. I finally made it to the Happy House around 7 PM – I had called ahead to let them know I was coming. Rebecca and John, the Happy House hosts, were incredibly hospitable and welcomed me at the door. The first thing they insisted on was to take a picture of me at the front of the house, and they asked for my permission to post it on Facebook.

After a warm shower, Rebecca and John offered us a delicious taco salad dinner. The five of tus hikers gathered around and loaded our bowls. I felt so overwhelmed by their comfort and hospitality in combination, in combination with the relief of finally being clean. If I remember correctly, Rebecca and John were empty nesters who missed having kids in their home, which was their excuse for their generosity.

Over dinner, Rebecca and John updated us on the Olympic National Park permit situation – apparently, hikers were having trouble getting permits for a lot of campsites in the park. They had a ton of maps, tide charts, and campsite data printed out to help us figure it out. In addition to figuring out our routes through the main area of Olympic National Park, we had to figure out how we were going to hike the coast for our final days on the trail. Some sections of trail along the coast are only hikeable when the tide is under a certain level. To make matters worse, the tides higher than usual, with some sections only having tides low enough for a couple hours a day. The five of us tentatively agreed to shoot for a finish date of September 13th. In order to make this work, based on tide data, I would have to wake up at 3 AM on the 11th to cross one section in the dark before the time came back in.

I also planned to hike the Hurricane Ridge alternate (44c-44a on this map) in the mainland Olympics. This would be reportedly more scenic and avoid a couple campsites that require bear canisters until I could get a hitch into Port Angeles to rent one.

We all went to sleep feeling a little anxious about the permit situation. Still, I slept soundly on my sleeping pad in the living room floor.