The Olympic Peninsular; home to the Quinault and Makah nations

We left Yakimar in steady rain, heading for the Olympic Peninsular at the north-west tip of mainland USA; home to the coast dwelling Quinault and Makah people. Jules was driving as I was still suffering the aftershocks of the medicine dance.

 

The leaden skies persisted as we climbed into the mountains at the base of Mount Ranier, at over 14000 ft, the highest peak in Washinton State. Persistent rain and patches of heavy mist limited visibility and slowed our progress. The volcano itself was invisible, in the mist despite the promise of several viewing points along the road. The winding mountain road and inclement weather made driving quite difficult and the massive logging trucks which periodically lurched out of the mist added to the adrenaline rush. Occasionally the mist lifted and revealed beautiful valleys and forested mountain slopes.

 

 

 

 

We crested White Pass, at 4500 feet, and descended to Packwood, a small tourist and logging community, where we looked at a motel room for the night. There are no trains passing through Packwood, just logging trucks which roared past our window at 10 minute intervals throughout the night.

Next morning’s journey took us across the northern edge of the Mount St Helens’s National Monument reserve, but thick mist again obscured the mountain. A 30 mile drive in the chaotic traffic on [I]5 the(the major route between Seattle and Portland, Oregon)made the timber trucks seem like child’s play and we were pleased to exit the interstate and head west again towards our coastal destination at Ocean Shores, a coastal resort town close to the Quinault nation. By chance we came into town some days after the official holiday season had finished and we were able to rent a small condominium overlooking the beach (about 100 yards away) for a similar price to the motel rooms we had been staying in.

We soon discovered that the national kite flying pageant was in town that week and hundreds of kites filled the sky about 200 m down the beach. We walked along the beach and were treated to a spectacular display of kite flying. The star performaner was ‘Chaz’, 78 years old and deaf, controlling 3 stunt kites in a stunning display of synchronized aerobatics, control lines of two of the kites in his hands, the third kite’s lines strapped to his thigh.

 

 

 

Over the next few days Julie drove the 20 miles of winding coastal roads through some of the most beautiful rainforest we have seen, to visit the health service clinics in Taholah, the capital of the Quinault nation. I was content to sit by the beach and go for occasional walks, but she finally persuaded me to travel with her on the third day.

“You just have to see the rainforest! Its some of the most beautiful forest I’ve ever seen,” she exclaimed. “Its amazing!” A little skeptical but curious, I headed out with her the next morning in steady rain and mist. The narrow road wound its way along the coastline with sudden dips and curves adding to my feeling of imminent doom, but Jules was undaunted at the wheel and Dodgy clung grimly to the wet bitumen. I finally wrenched my eyes from the road and found that we were indeed surrounded by the most beautiful rain forest I had ever seen. The awesome scenery distracted me and we soon descended into Tahola, where the Quinault River opens to the sea.

 

The Quinault people are seafarers, and for centuries have built large canoes to navigate the coastal and river fishing and hunting grounds of their nation. Unlike most of the desert and plains Indians they were not displaced from their homelands and have had continuous occupancy of their lands for thousands of years.

The opening paragraph of their website provides a description of the people and their activities;

 

“We are among the small number of Americans who can walk the same beaches, paddle the same waters, and hunt the same lands our ancestors did centuries ago. The Quinault Indian Nation (QIN) consists of the Quinault and Queets tribes and descendants of five other coastal tribes: Quileute, Hoh, Chehalis, Chinook, and Cowlitz.”

 

Neah Bay and the Makah Nation.

After almost a week in our beachside condominium it was time to travel up the Olympic Peninsula to the Makah nation at the north west tip of mainland USA. Our journey north again took us through beautiful rainforests and towering stands of western red cedar, with the occasional scar of clear felling to remind us of home. We left the Atlantic coast, crossing the peninsula and rejoining the sea at Puget Sound. Canada was just 20 km across the Sound as we travelled west along the torturous coastal road to the Makah nation.

It was late afternoon when we reached Neah Bay and the sun was low behind the steep hills surrounding the settlement. The bay itself was protected by long sea walls and a flotilla of fishing boats was tied up in the large protected marina. Houses and shops were strung around the main road which followed the curve of the foreshore.

After several enquiries we discovered that there was no accommodation available in town that night so we headed back on the coastal road to a group of lodges and motels we had seen just outside the Makar Nation boundary. Luck was again on our side, the only lodging where we got a response to our knocks a small motel on the edge of the beach and surprisingly low tariff. We were soon settling into our suite, with its own kitchen and spacious bedroom, but best of all, a panoramic view of Puget Sound through the large windows of the living area. We spent the next four days there between visits to Neah Bay, watching ships plying up and down the Sound and whales lazing in the shallows just off shore. On clear days Victoria Island could be seen on the Canadian side of the Sound.

The culture and heritage of the Makah was fascinating. The highlights of our stay were seeing the Cultural Centre where the relics of the ancient village of Ozette are housed (see below), and walking the Cape Flattery Trail to the spectacular rocky headlands at the very north-west point of mainland USA

To provide some background on the people and culture of the Makah nation I have paraphrased a small section of their webpage;

‘The name “Makah”, was given to us by our neighboring tribes, means “Generous with food”. We call ourselves “Kwih-dich-chuh-ahtx” or “people who live by the rocks and since the beginning of time. For thousands of years we have hunted whales and seals, and fished in the great waters which cradle our home. Commercial fishing is one of the mainstays of our economy.

Throughout our history, the great Western Red Cedar tree has provided the material from which we have housed and clothed ourselves. Our people once flourished in a community of five permanent villages. The villages were Bahaada, Deah (present day Neah Bay), Waatch, Sooes and Ozette.

In 1970 tidal erosion at Ozette, 20 miles south of Neah Bay, uncovered an ancient whaling village which had been covered by a mud slide hundreds of years ago. The artifacts which were recovered are between 300-500 years old and are now housed in a nationally recognized museum, the Makah Cultural and Research Center. Exhibits include full scale replicas of cedar long houses as well as whaling, sealing and fishing canoes.’

(www.makah.com/ -)

The walk along the Cape Flattery Trail took us through thick rainforests, sometimes in ankle deep mud and occasionally on stepping stones over flowing water. We eventually emerged at a rugged headland with spectacular views of the ocean and nearby islands, with massive waves pounding against the rocks below us and whales cruising offshore in the calmer waters.