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I stood high on the cliff watching the horses dancing on the giant, rolling waves below. The wind whipping their manes into a frenzy of froth, depositing foam at my feet like clods of earth kicked up hooves pounding the earth. Watching, wishing that I had a windsurfer, that I might make use of the conditions.

It was just too stormy for Washington, the waves were too big and the winds too strong for the unprotected beaches to provide any viable surf. Maybe, had I known about the some secluded secret coves things would have been different, but my hikes to find them lead me to shear cliffs or open expanses of beach that were just as violent as the ones previously passed.

Not only was it stormy, but it was wet. So that when I woke up early at the Cape Trail and peered out the window, I mistook the blue for grey and rolled over, hiding my head under three layers of sleeping bags. When I finally managed to crawl out of my cocoon I realized it was in fact clear skies. Kicking myself for not rising earlier, I grabbed my camera gear and ran down to the viewpoint to see what I had missed.

In La Push I found a brief sunset surf session and stayed around a little while taking in stories of Native Americans and wandering beaches which everyone was keen to inform me was the home of Twilight. Eventually I gave in to their requests and set out to capture a vampire shot. Unfortunately the vampire was inexplicably naked and thus these images shall remain in the archives to be brought out upon request only.

After a few days catching up on blogs and photos whilst trying to dry out in Forks public library, the drying out a futile attempt by now, even in the relative warmth of indoors, I hit the road again. I hadn’t made it more than a few miles when I saw a sign for Hoy Rainforest and figured what the hell, there is no surf and I am already wet. If you ever get a chance, this is a wondrous place. It struck me as a place that time ceased to exist and the world was stuck in a prehistoric state. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a Velociraptor or Warewoolf poke its head out whilst I longboarded around the park.

Hungover from a Friday night in a dive bar, I left the parking lot to find surf in Westport where a bunch of break walls shield the coast from the brutality of the sea and provide fingers or groins as they are called for the waves to wrap into. I slept amongst crab pots, waking up to forklifts scuttling them around before the morning’s catch. The waves were lefts, not my best, but I told myself I have to go left someday and it will be good training for South America.

Before leaving Washington I stopped by South Bend and Elixar Cafe where I had left some prints to sell. Unfortunately nothing had sold, but I got a free coffee and slept besides the world’s biggest oyster. This is where I decided to start the Bring Your Own Cup campaign and found my first taker at Chinook Coffee Company where Madaline create me a fabulous spicy concoction and sent me off over the border with a smile.

 

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