Lake Ozette: of Marshmallows and Robotic Deer

One fine weekend recently we went on a camping trip to Lake Ozette on the coast of the Olympic Peninsula (click on "Lake Ozette" to see pictures). We ended up getting a late start, so were surprised to find an empty camping spot at the lake; we had expected to stay at a campground back up the road a bit. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Tom's aunt, his brother Dave, one of our nephews and Dave's dog Rose, came out to go camping with us. Now, Rose is generally as sweet and good-natured a dog as you'll ever meet, but for some reason she developed a hatred for our youngest dog Cooper when he was just 7 weeks old. Two years later, the bad feelings persist. Cooper, being extremely friendly and a touch dim, persists in trying to make friends with her every chance he gets. To try to spare her Cooper's attentions, her new bed was brought in and placed upstairs.

As it turns out, Rose is very fond of this lovely new bed and doesn't appreciate squatters. However, she vacated the premises to socialize with Tom, and Jake, not one to pass up a good opportunity, moved in. Rose attempted to evict Jake and he let her know in no uncertain terms that he will NOT be pushed around in his own house, and gave her a few puncture marks on her head as a souvenir. Tom and I decided that our dogs would stay home for the weekend, in the care of a friend.


The next morning we headed out and were lucky enough to find a campsite that looked more like someone's well-tended front lawn than a typical site. After setting up the tents and having lunch we hit the trail for a 3.3 mile hike to the beach. This particular trail is mostly boardwalk that is passable all year round and is one of our favorite hikes in the winter and spring when storms have washed debris onto the beach.

On our way down the trail we gave our nephew a list of items to hunt for on the beach. It turned out to be an exercise in frustration because this time of year the beach is surprisingly clean of "treasures" and it became a group effort to find everything. Something we've never seen there before that showed up in abundance were unopened waxed paper cartons of milk with Japanese writing and cartoons on them. I think somewhere a ship is missing its rations (possibly deliberately).

Back at camp it we made dinner and started a fire. Our nephew started taking marshmallow orders and did an excellent job of roasting everyone's marshmallow to the proper shade of burnt. Rose ate an enormous number of uncooked marshmallows and seemed to become more mellow as the evening went on. Tom's aunt had brought Wolfgang Puck self-heating mochas that we doctored with a little Bailey's (the extent of our wild drinking ways) and we all relaxed and enjoyed the fire until it was time to crawl into bed.

The next day I woke to discover the thick coating of waterproofing I had applied to the tent had done its job and saved us from the heavy dew that covered the land. Next test, torrential rain! During breakfast we had a visitor. It was a doe who checked us out so thoroughly I began to wonder if she was a robotic spy deer in the employ of the National Park Service. But maybe that's just paranoia talking. Anyway, I took her picture, so if I ever disappear without explanation. . .