West again; the Outer Coast was calling. We looked carefully for elk when we passed Beaver Prairie. No elk. The air was a lot cleaner, and we had blue sky that was really blue all the way to the curve before Rialto Beach where you can first see the ocean and James Island— but just then from there the islands and the entire Pacific Ocean were invisible in the foggy summer marine layer.
No elk, and no eagles, either, but yes on pelicans, cormorants, gulls, sea ducks of unidentified sorts. Also the most people (and dogs) I have EVER seen on Rialto. As we were leaving, the Park rangers were turning cars back up the highway, because there was were no more parking spaces. To tell the truth, I wasn't all that willing to share; but needs must. It is August, and a sunny weekend (tho not on the beach), at the premier drive-to beach on the Outer Coast of Olympic National Park. We shared.
We ambled all the way out to Hole-in-the-Wall before eating our picnic. I promised EW that it would be worth the wait, and that it's the most beautiful beach in the world.
Giant green anemones on the rocks. One purple sea star. The sun began to play at burning back the fog, the colors changed and changed. Some pelicans sat down on the water out among the sea stacks and had a brief fishing party, which made me so happy I forgot to take a picture of them before they flew off.