The Healing Waters of Sol Duc ?

I’m glad I didn’t just take the day off while the group hiked Lovers Lane trail.  I’m glad there were people who saw me hiking…even though I didn't go on the full hie and I missed the waterfall. I’m also glad that I have accepted reality... I may not belong on a hiking trip like the ones I’ve enjoyed before, and I’ve learned on this trip what I can do. 

Back at the hot springs, I go out to the hottest of the mineral pools.  There’s some debate about the meaning of Sol Duc.  One story says the Quileute Indian name for the Sol Duc hot springs is si'bi', “stinky place”.  Another story claims Sol Duc is an Indian word for "sparkling water". 
What we do know is that in the 1880s an early settler-- Theodore Moritz-- staked a claim, built cedar-log tubs and managed to attract people who came to the healing waters.  After Moritz’s death in 1909, timber company owner Michael Earles bought the land and built an elegant hotel and a road from Lake Crescent. The hotel was destroyed in a fire only a few years later, but the springs continue to attract people searching for that unique mineral-spring healing.

I guess that’s what I’m doing. The minerals leave a slick residue on my skin that reminds me of the Dead Sea.   A couple of people from my trip and I boil ourselves for a bit and then cool off.  After doing this a few times, I decide I am no more agile and flexible than I was when I came into the pools, and I have had quite enough of the stinky soak.  Off to the showers and then to the van.

But there is no van.  I know I'm not late... perhaps I'm a little too early?  But where is the van?  Turns out somebody had left a cell phone on the trail and they’d driven as close as possible to the point they thought they'd find it ...and someone dashed up to the trail, and rescued the phone. 
Cell phone?  Aaaaaahh -- is vacation coming to a close?
When references to electronic devices begin,  it seems likely.

But we still have a little more time... and we’re off to Lake Crescent.

A (Little) Walk in the Woods

I know a mineral soak might ease some of my physical discomfort, but the idea of not doing any walking is not sitting well with me.
 
So I find a map, find the trailhead, and try my luck as a solo hiker on Lovers Lane.
 
Without anxiety about being too slow and last in line, I’m feeling better. The first quarter mile parallels the parking lot, lodge, and pools. Not a very rustic or woodsy feeling--pretty much the opposite of what I’ve been appreciating about the rain forest.  
 

Trail leaving Lodge

Gradually, I leave civilization behind. As I meander, I think, “I’ll go 10 minutes and turn around.”   “I’ll go another 10 minutes and turn around.”  And so I keep on going.
 
The trail demands that I keep my eyes on the ground, planning the next place to set my foot.  But it’s beautiful.  I’m back in the forest primeval, appreciating the wonder of these giant trees, the sun and shadows through the branches. I'm strolling (it would be an exaggeration to say 'hiking') parallel to the river, taking in the sound of the running waters and the smell of the forest; relaxed enough admire the vast variety of life around me-- mosses, ferns, nurse logs, skittering animals, flitting insects, birds.... 

Trail Near Sol Duc Lodge

 
I cross a single-log bridge -- I’ve seen these on almost every hike on this trip. Fallen trees are suspended over an area of water or maybe where there is a sharp but narrow drop in the trail.  The logs are scored to make footing less slippery, and an angled railing on one side gives hikers something to grip.  Bearing in mind that there are trees here over a hundred feet tall, a fallen log can create a long bridge. Around the time I get to the middle of the ‘bridge’, it does a little trembling sort of thing to remind me how long it is, but it's  sturdy and I'm steady.

Sol Duc log bridge

I’ve been walking for about an hour when I see two of my group, people who took the easier shorter hike, coming toward me around the next bend in the trail. I’ve been poking along slowly, they’ve been going their usual pace, and we meet as they're approaching the end of their hike. 

Sol Duc River

We stop for lunch alongside the river  (thank you, Linda, for making that sandwich this morning).  Then the three of us head back toward the lodge and pools.  It isn’t until we’re leaving the trail and going toward the lodge that the hikers who took the longer route reach the point where we had lunch.  The length of time it took them to get there highlights what I avoided when I chose not to go with either group.  I'm glad I didn't just sit in a mineral pool, but I'm also glad I chose challenges I could manage. 
          
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Sol Duc Hot Springs; a Road Not Taken?

I have mentioned before that my travel blog is based on journals I keep when I travel.  When I took this trip to the Olympic Peninsula, I was struggling with back and knee problems.  I open this post with that information for a few reasons. 
We've reached the point in the trip where I am not with the hiking group very much. 
We’ve reached the point in the trip where I realize this may be my last hiking trip.

Our guide tells me she’s a little concerned about me on the Lovers Lane hike.  It’s not a steep hike but it requires that you watch your feet every second--rough terrain with lots of roots and rocks.

I spend the morning tending to a few little blisters and feeling slightly ill.  The 5th consecutive day of anxiety about what I can and can’t do is taking it’s toll.  While people are making their lunches, I’m worrying about what I should do.  Linda kindly puts together a sandwich for me. 

We get the vans to a parking lot where all the hikers take off---but not I. I head down to Sol Duc resort and lodge, which has hot springs. Hot springs are supposed to be a source of soothing and healing for aching muscles, sore bodies. This is where one of the hikes—the shorter Lovers Lane hike—will end. 

Hot mineral springs like the these generally form close to volcanic craters.  The sulfur and other minerals supposedly have many benefits: good for your skin, can lower blood pressure, ease asthma symptoms, soothe arthritis discomfort (now we’re talkin’?) and reduce stress, among other things.

The three pools are different depths and temperatures:  one is just about eight inches deep and 99 F (37C).  The two other pools are both about three feet deep; one is about 101F (38C) and the other is about 104F.

According to Native American legend, battling dragons created the Sol Duc Hot Springs.  The monstrous creatures lived in separate valleys, neither aware of the other.  One day they were exploring their respective terrains (turns out they overlapped?) and a fight followed.

The vicious battle didn’t resolve the territorial claims, but the injuries did create the valley, destroying trees on the surrounding mountains,  scattering boulders.  The fighters' flayed skin created the rainforest features of moss and lichen.  Ultimately, the dragons retreated to their  homes and wept.   The hot tears they cried formed Sol Duc and Olympic hot springs. 

Sol Duc Hot Springs

With this legend in mind, I check out the springs—smell like fart to me.  I check out the lodge.  I check out the store.  I have checked everything there is to check and there is no way I’m going to just sit in the stinky mineral pools for a few hours, no matter how soothing they might be. No way.

If you’d like to see some images of the road not taken, please visit  https://www.hikingproject.com/trail/7002050 .

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Hoh River Raft Trip

The Hoh River winds down from Mt. Olympus through the Hoh Rain Forest, and we’re going to cruise down a relatively quiet section of river for a few hours of relaxing nature viewing.  Our raft trip is a  Class I to II- guided scenic float trip with some mild whitewater.

The guide in my raft, Wild Bill, is pretty funny.  He and his fellow rafters are the kind of guys you might see on extreme sports shows. They call everyone ‘dude’ and seem very relaxed and at ease. Bill emphasizes the importance of safety, pointing out the various calamities that can occur and ending each warning with “bad, … more paperwork for Bill…”.

Regardless of the fairly easy nature of the trip, two of the women  are very nervous. One sits in the middle and never lets go of the people on either side of her.  I sit in the middle because I'm lazy and don’t want to paddle.  A woman named Jan asks me not to let go of her.  So every time we go over a ripple of any sort, I hold on to her life vest and say… “I've saved your life… again!”  Between my life-saving activities ((hah) we enjoy the wit of Wild Bill, talking about critters that we *might* see, that he *had* seen, that we *could* see.  Mostly what we see is… you guessed it… insects. Ok, there are some birds, too.

At one point, to emphasize that I was NOT scared, I switch seats from middle to edge of the raft and dangle one foot at a time (at  Bill’s suggestion) in the water. This precaution helps prevent me from gracefully slipping into the water.  If I *were* to slip into the water by accident, I'd be inclined to head towards a logjam thinking, "I'll grab onto a log."

Bill's advice is to do just the opposite.   He explains the danger of  ‘strainers”--logjams that form when the rapid current catches logs in the river and brings them together.  The river water is usually fastest there, and it goes under the logjam, taking careless, leg-dangling rafters with it.

So I dangle a foot at a time and then return to my perch where I can save Jan’s life—again.

At the end of the raft trip we return to Kalaloch to our cabin by the sea, and another great dinner.  I think… I’m not sure… I may turn into a salmon.

 (I regret that I have no photos because I didn't want to risk getting my camera wet.  For an idea of rafting on the Hoh, please visit  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IAj80Qzsed8