I have lived in Bellingham for 21 years and have always had a desire to visit, experience and photograph the rugged, remote and storied coastal region around La Push on the Washington Peninsula. This summer I finally made the trip and the first thing I did when I got there? I laughed out loud. It was a visceral reaction to the sheer impossibility of the beauty all around. Like Monument Valley that I visited in 2016, I had such high expectations after waiting so long to visit that I assumed I’d be disappointed. Both times my expectations were greatly exceeded – the reality of both places is truly stratospheric.

For our brief sojourn I stayed in the nearby town of Forks just 15 miles to the northeast of the myriad wonders of the coast at La Push. Forks is named after the forks in the nearby Quillayute, Bogachiel, Calawah, and Sol Duc rivers and for many years was fueled by the local timber industry. As the town with the most rainfall and least amount of sunlight in the contiguous United States, Forks was an obvious choice for the hugely popular Twilight vampire novels and film series that followed (and my reasoning for running this story in the October edition, Halloween and all that. #Boo!)

Bags dropped, cameras charged and writer’s creative juices stirring, I headed expectantly to tiny La Push and scrambled over the bleached driftwood and onto First Beach.

An amorphous sheath of ethereal mist rolled silently, obscuring and then revealing numerous sea stacks. They stood sentinel like a constellation of black and green cloaked wizards behind the proverbial curtain.

As pelicans dived for fish with great alacrity the sea stacks would show and tell and retreat into the fog like the needles of an old wireless set grappling for momentary reception. The freezing fog and hot August sun above the banks of mist combined with a robust and swirling wind to bring instant color to our faces as we surveyed in awe the perfect Pacific panorama before me.

My second stop required a short hike through a dense and cool forest before sunbeams penetrated the canopy and announced, like a jeweler proudly upending a bag of diamonds, the truly stunning Second Beach. Goodness, gracious me, what a place! The bank of sea mist continued its silent amble out at sea whilst the lowering sun highlighted and silhouetted several tree-topped sea stacks close to the immaculate shore. Speechless, I tried to make sense of it all as the becalmed ocean dropped its soft waves with barely a whisper onto the sand.

After beachcombing First and Second Beach I dined heartily, two nights in a row, at the rustic River’s Edge restaurant on grilled salmon, baked potatoes, scallops and cod and chips. The food was plentiful and very good and the staff were happy and welcoming. It was great to see the place packed both nights.

La Push, from the French La Bouche meaning “The Mouth” of the Quillayute River, and adapted into Chinook jargon is home to the Quileute Tribe who have lived and hunted in the area for thousands of years. Although the village of La Push is only about one square mile, the Tribe’s original territory stretched along the shores of the Pacific from the glaciers of Mount Olympus to the rivers of the rain forests. Quileute Elders still recall when the “old people” dared challenge kwalla, the mighty whale, and recounted the story of how the bayak, or raven, placed the sun in the sky.

Those who visit La Push come for whale watching in the spring; surfing, fishing, and hiking in the summer; and storm-watching in the fall and winter.

After this wonderful experience, La Push and the wider coastlands of the Washington Peninsula is a love affair I look forward to rekindling again and again.