Our Hike on the Spit
(Here’s my latest assignment for the Long Ridge Writers Group, mailed off
today.)
“It was a great trip – except when my wife TRICKED me into a huge hike
out to the lighthouse,” I told my co-workers on Monday afternoon. “She told
me it was only a mile or two and it turned out to be five and a half
miles–each way!” We’d just returned from our second annual Anniversary
Camping Trip.
We spent Thursday, our fourth anniversary, driving out to the campground.
We took the Seattle-Bainbridge Island ferry across Puget Sound, then drove
north across the Hood Canal Bridge and along the northeast corner of the
Olympic Peninsula until we reached Sequim Bay State Park, about three miles
southeast of Sequim. We set up camp and had dinner over the campfire,
finishing up with s’mores and a Harry Potter reading, an anniversary
tradition.
On Friday, we spent part of the day walking around the park and exploring
the shoreline. My wife, Amy, found some shells she liked, and we saw sand
crabs and sea stars. In the afternoon, we went into the town of Sequim for
some supplies, including firewood, and Amy picked up a tourist guide.
That’s where she found out about the New Dungeness Lighthouse.
After we breakfasted on Saturday morning, Amy suggested we go to see the
lighthouse. I’d discovered, unpleasantly, a few years earlier that some of
Washington’s lighthouses are a long hike from the nearest road, so I asked
how far it was.
“Only a couple of miles or so,” she replied.
That didn’t sound so bad, so I agreed. We got directions and headed out
to the Dungeness National Wildlife Refuge. When we got there, the volunteer
at the gate told us it was five-and-a-half miles—each way.
I nearly balked, but Amy was still excited and I had agreed to go, so off
we went. The first half-mile or so is a wooded trail down to the water.
(“This will be a fun uphill climb at the end of the hike,” I thought to
myself sarcastically.) Once we reached the bottom of the hill, our route
was over rocks, sand, and seaweed. It was about 10:30 in the morning.
The Dungeness Spit is a long, narrow strip of land (a “spit”) that
extends out from the beach about three miles, and then curves to the right
to form Dungeness Bay. The spit itself has been growing over the years. The
lighthouse, five miles down the spit, was originally about one-sixth of a
mile from the end of the spit. Now it is about a half-mile from the end.
Inside Dungeness Bay, two other spits, Cline (which extends from the beach)
and Graveyard (which extends from Dungeness Spit toward the shore), enclose
Dungeness Harbor.
About a half-mile down, the crest of the spit has wooden logs marking the
edge of the area that people are allowed to enter. The bay side of the spit
is off limits. Over 250 species of birds, several of which are endangered,
make their homes in the refuge. Amy brought her binoculars to watch the
birds, and we made good use of them to watch eight or ten harbor seals
playing as we reached the bend in the spit.
About 1:00, we reached the lighthouse. A wooden arch, like those on
cattle ranches in old movies, marks the entrance to the lighthouse grounds.
Next to the arch is a signpost pointing back to the mainland: “Reality: 5
mi.” A dirt path leads from the arch to a white rail fence, which surrounds
a well-kept lawn around the lighthouse building and keeper’s residence. We
took some pictures and had lunch at a picnic table on the lawn.
The Coast Guard withdrew their last keeper in March 1994, but the U.S.
Lighthouse Society, which leases the grounds from the Coast Guard, has kept
volunteer keepers out at the lighthouse since September 1994. One of them
approached us at the picnic table and offered a tour of the lighthouse.
Another couple joined us, and the five of us climbed the 72 (steep!) steps
leading up to the light room.
On a clear day, you can see Victoria B.C., but it was a bit hazy that
afternoon. Still, it was a pretty neat view, and the keeper took a picture
of Amy and me. We spent a little time looking around the two exhibit rooms,
full of articles and artifacts from the lighthouse’s nearly 150 years of
service.
The New Dungeness Lighthouse was part of a group of four lights in the
Washington Territory authorized by Congress in the mid-1850s. It was the
first of the group completed, going into service in December 1857.
Originally 100 feet high, the tower was reduced to 63 feet in 1927. The
Dungeness Spit is also nicknamed Shipwreck Spit; there have been 22 recorded
shipwrecks since the light was put into operation.
Unfortunately, the only souvenir you can get at the lighthouse is a rock
engraved with a picture of the lighthouse. Who buys a rock when they have a
five-and-a-half mile hike ahead of them?
After our tour we headed back to the mainland, stopping at the entry arch
for more pictures. The other couple got a bit of a head start on us, and we
started after them. We soon passed them, and after a half-mile or so, Amy
and I confessed to each other that our competitive natures demanded that we
beat the other couple back to the parking lot. This we did, by a good
three-quarters of a mile!
Weary and a
little sunburned, we got back to our car at about 5:00 and headed off for a
victory mocha at the nearest Starbucks. The next day was cloudy and rainy
as we headed back home. As tough a hike as it had been for us, we were
inspired to try to see as many of the other Washington state lighthouses as
we could on our future trips. One down, two dozen to go!
