Camping on magical ocean beaches

The beaches near the Quileute Indian Reservation had been raved about for weeks as we stopped in various places around the peninsula. So toward the end of the adventure, we decided to camp there for a night. As we rounded a bend, the ocean came into view and my boss shouted “The Goonies!” pointing at tall masses of vegetated islands jutting up from just off the coast. The whole area was filled with haze, which was annoying but added to the mystery of the place. And once again I remembered why I love the ocean so much. I woke up slightly early the next morning, climbing out of my tent and into the wonderful sea salt smell and shrouded in the clouded dew of the morning. I strolled along the beach, admiring crabs, blue mussels, barnacles, and beached starfish bigger than my hand. A deer’s tracks seemed to emerge from the water, heading toward the coast. My feet grazed the water’s edge, taking in the calming ripples as I walked until I could no longer see my tent before turning around.

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