The morning proved sunny and warmish. Early morning owls and howls, as usual.
After a breakfast of cereal and leftovers, we departed 10:00 AM-ish for the Olympic Game Farm. This place used to be a Disney set for movies involving animals. (Long history which I won't address here. Google it, if you are interested.) As it exists now, there is a concession stand and a museum, and a drive through animal territory where patrons can feed animals whole wheat bread purchased at the entrance point, from their cars. We did it all.
The animals that were "loose" and begging, included yaks, llamas, bison, elk, deer, peacocks, sea gulls, etc. Behind bars (thus unfeedable) were wolves--probably what I was hearing from the home place--bears, etc. (The bears weren't totally unfeedable--just contained so they couldn't approach cars. Not so the bison. There were signs around warning drivers not to allow bison close to the car, since they can do serious bodily harm...to the car! It was fun--and sometimes scary--to have big critters so close to the vehicle--with their heads actually IN the vehicle, begging for bread. It was here that we saw a bear in an enclosure catch a piece of bread we had tossed, then dip it in water before he ate it. I thought only raccoons did that! One of the bears here has achieved Internet fame as "the bear that waves".
(You can see it here, among other sites: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FwSuzQhC4eU .)
Since the Olympic Game Farm was only a little over two miles from Margi's Guest House, as the crow flies, I deduced that the wolf-howling that I was hearing at the house was most likely coming from the game farm. I don't think wolves are in the wild on the Olympic Peninsula. Coyotes, however, are. Not sure I know the difference in howls!
Yes, we patronized the game farm. Yes, the animals were well-cared-for but not necessarily in a way that is natural to them. I do NOT want to hear from PETA-people, nor will I argue the ethics of keeping these movie-star-animals in this manner. We enjoyed our experience!
After the game farm, we drove to Port Angeles to an Asian buffet where we have been before. This was "lunch". Robin, who is a big sushi fan, introduced me to the California Roll. As she explained it, the California Roll is for people (like me) who are reluctant to eat raw fish. She assured me that there was no raw fish in it. It was good. Not sure it is worth all of the hype surrounding sushi in the US these days, but I can now say that I have had it at least once.
With our hunger satiated, we then drove to Hurricane Ridge in the Olympic mountains. (This is part of the National Park System, I think.) Hurricane Ridge is--duh--a mountain ridge overlooking mountains and valleys in beautiful vistas. I've been here once before. This day's visit was a bit less satisfying than the last due to some cloud cover, but still awesome. There are usually deer to be seen and mountain rodents. There are also hiking trails (which we didn't take) and a visitor's center, complete with gift shop and some food offerings. Only a short rock wall on the patio of the Visitor's Center separates visitors from a steep drop-off down into one of the valleys. These things always make me nervous! Thank goodness, my grandkids are old enough and smart enough (I think?) not to tempt fate by standing on the top of that wall.
The drive back to the Guest House was, as always, lovely and full of wondrous things to see. We were "home" by 6:00 PM, had our one-pot meal by 7:00. (Walking tacos. We had prepared the meat before we left on vacation, and froze it. We warmed it up on the one-burner hot plate, and put the refried beans in the microwave. Voila! Dinner!)
After dinner, the family left to go to the Dungeness Spit to hike it a bit. I stayed at the Guest House and set up my computer for the first time in days. When they all returned, they came bearing drinks and the most delicious ice cream sandwiches. Just what the doctor ordered!
Perhaps I should say here that the Dungeness Spit was one attraction that helped convince Megan to book our accommodations nearby. She was fascinated by it. (I didn't even know it existed!) Although I wasn't with them for this visit to the Spit, I could live it vicariously (which I often have to do on these excursions). Meg told me that there was a gate at the entrance, manned by the Park Service. I don't think there was a fee to enter. Basically, this is a 6.8-mile narrow sand bar, with sand on each edge and driftwood in the middle for the whole length of it. The family was carrying a frisbee, which the person at the gate asked them to leave behind. (They did.) There is no road on the spit. It is only accessible on foot, and (of course) the tides and shifting sands will change the place, day to day. In spite of the ruggedness of the environment that created this natural feature, it is somewhat ecologically fragile. It isn't a beach for recreation and picnics for people to ruin with trash, etc. It is, however, the second longest natural spit in the world. Definitely something to see!
We played Scattergories before bedtime. Our last night in Sequim.
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