13 August 2009
For our trip to Seattle and the greater Washington areas, I planned every single detail. Our friends who knew about the trip knew about [insert dramatic & heavy music] "The Itinerary." Gabe, a friend of Jonathan's that we were staying with, often joked that we weren't allowed to sleep because it wasn't in "The Itinerary". With that being said, Thursday the 13th of August was planned as In Olympic National Park: Hurricane Ridge, Sol duc Falls, Rialto Beach, Ruby Beach, and Kalaloch Campgrounds for the night. Each day we tried very very hard to stick to the plan, but Washington is very beautiful and it is so very easy to get caught up in the beauty and basically that Thursday was completely full of those getting-caught-up-moments.
We left early that morning from Seattle and went the long way through Tacoma to get to the famously scenic and often-talked about US-101. I struggled to fight many naps along the way, Jonathan waking me up by pulling over for glorious views of Hood Canal and Dabob Bay. By early afternoon, we were driving into the deep and high fog of Mt. Walker. Literally encompassed by clouds, we attempted to see beyond the ledge and ran back to the car fearing attack by the much-advertised (but rarely seen) mountain lion. Continuing our trek, we were soon in Port Angeles and tracing Olympic National Park maps with our fingers, figuring out how to make best use of the remainder of our day which was slowly escaping us. Hurricane Ridge seemed like an obvious stopping point, so after a 30-minute drive there, we dressed in our ponchos and braced the frigid 40-degree weather, letting the rain mist our faces and hair and fingertips, freezing everything between. This was my first time seeing a glacier "up close and personal" (though many miles away) and I was completely enthralled with the mountain range in general. Jonathan couldn't get enough of the deer and we have many, many pictures of both (deer & glaciers). Back into the car, we were now southbound for Sol duc Falls. Let me say, if you visit Washington, I highly recommend this short hike. The entire time we were surrounded by massive green towering trees, not even able to view the sky, but instead layers upon layers of moss. It was raining ever so slightly and I couldn't stop smiling between the wet dirt getting between my toes and a brand new view every turn we took. The falls weren't too exceptional; there is a fallen tree diverting part of the water, you stand over a bridge and watch either side of the river. It's beautiful, just absolutely beautiful. I say the falls aren't exceptional because it wasn't like the just awesome power of Niagara or the simple and quiet trickling of Appalachian falls, but just the environment you stand in is so immensely different than what the usual Floridian experiences that you can barely comprehend the mist, and the green -- so much green!
After our hike back to the car, we pointed the car west toward the Pacific. It would be my first time seeing the ocean, and I had small ideas of what to expect. Like the geese that poop all over the Reflecting Pool in DC, no one tells you about the tiny details of northwest Pacific oceans -- the stones, the forest, the petrified trees... We decided to forgo dinner to make sure we would catch the sunset on Rialto Beach. From our research and maps, we knew two famous rock stacks were on the shore of this beach: Hole in the Wall and Split Rock. We parked, it was around 7:30, we knew we had about an hour to get about 2-miles down the beach where the rocks were to be. We held hands navigating through the forest that runs along the beach, and finally breaking free to huge trees that had fallen and turned white. The ocean was within view, I could smell it and the air was cold. Instead of sand, the beach was a great bed of river rock - black, green, brown, white with grey flecks. Every single detail God works out is so simply amazing, how such an aesthetically pleasing view could be formulated in His great plan is so astonishing that I have no words. I felt myself instantly escaping back to the Longhorn Caverns in Texas, to the freezing rivers in North Carolina, to the mossy Live Oak in the Southeast, the icy parks in Boston: each step toward the ocean, each step that sounded like crunching was another moment of freedom. The foamy water encompassed my toes and my arches and my ankles and I squealed with delight. Jonathan rolled up his pants and we stood in the cold Pacific looking at the much different landscape beyond - so many islands and rocks in the distance, so unlike Atlantic Beach flatlands. We continued walking, taking photos along the way. The beach was completely deserted aside from the few campers making bonfires and a redhead singing so loudly as she was digging through the rocks into the dirt. Finally we made it to Split Rock, the water was crashing against the many rocks in the area and I attempted climbing them before chickening out (hey, I had a hurt ankle!) and then begging Jonathan to do so. More and more and more photos, of us jumping, looking out onto the ocean, "self portraits", photos with timers, anything you can think of.
The sun was setting and it was getting darker and Jonathan climbed up onto one of those fallen white trees. I told him we should get going since we had a 2-mile walk back to the car with no guiding lights along the way, but he said we should wait and watch the sun fully set, it would be an adventure to go back in the dark, and then he patted a part of the tree next to him inviting me up the trunk. We sat there side by side, holding hands and letting our feet hang. One of my favorite ways to show affection with Jonathan has always been through hand holding, I often think it's better than hugging or kissing or cuddling... Anyway, it was just perfect, my new friend the Pacific in front of me, my old best friend Jonathan next to me. He leaned against my shoulder and asked me if he could tell me a secret. Figuring he would just tell me he loved me, I said sure, and instead he whispered, "I wish I had a ring because I would propose to you right now." I don't remember exactly how I responded because I was trying to act really cool and not too excited, thinking in my head oh my goodness PLEASE propose to me, this is so perfect! He became really silent and was just softly grazing his fingertips on my palm. When I finally thought, okay this isn't happening (I can't wait to tell Kathleen that he brought up proposal!), he loudly exclaimed, "I just can't keep it in anymore!" He leaped off the tree and very slowly got to his knee. I remember him mumbling, I can't believe I'm doing this. Through a big smile he told me anything I could ever want to hear, called me Amber Rose, and asked me to marry him. Through my own big smile and many tears I said yes, of course of course! and we embraced with a hug and a kiss and finally broke free from one another to look the other in the eye and smile and giggle and say, I can't believe that just happened! Since Jonathan didn't have a ring ready, he found seaweed on the shore, wound it around my ring finger several times, tied it, and tore off the excess with his mouth. Literally, the perfect ring. (: For about thirty minutes the cycle continued - hugging, kissing, giggling, admiring the ring, hugging... Finally I told Jonathan that we really needed to head back (the sun had been set for about 45-minutes and my bladder was about to burst), so we held hands tightly for what seemed like the longest walk ever. I wanted to call my mom, call Kathleen & Ashlely, I wanted to shout out to everyone. Instead, I had the dark night (with limited moonlight due to the heavily clouded sky) and almost no reference point to guide us back to the small trail in the woods that would lead us back to the car. Obviously I am writing this now so we made it back safely with no vampire, bear, or mountain lion encounters. We didn't have service and with the 3-hour time difference between there and here, it was quite a challenge to get in touch with family/friends... That night we set up camp at Kalaloch by way of car headlights. We brushed our teeth. We fell asleep side-by-side with the Pacific roaring in our ears. That night I fell asleep knowing the man who I synchronize my breathing pattern with; the person who understands me and knows me in a way no one else does; the clearly defined shadows of curly hair and a bearded face is, as of that moment hours earlier, the one single person for me and I for him, forever.