Sept 17/12
Another beautiful sunny day. Made a reservation for the 1:15 ferry to Port Townsend, then had lots of time to pack up and make our way there.
Another beautiful sunny day. Made a reservation for the 1:15 ferry to Port Townsend, then had lots of time to pack up and make our way there.
Just enough time at the dock at Keystone to make and enjoy lunch, then loaded on the ferry and headed across the waters to the Olympic Peninsula.
When we reached Port Townsend, our pleasant day hit a huge speed bump. As we drove off the ferry, the GPS told us to go right, but the signs for Worden State Park indicated to turn left. So, we followed the signs (very small brown signs that tend to blend into the background), much to the dismay of Nancy the GPS nagivator. We were led through several residential neighbourhoods with narrow streets, before reaching a t-intersection and open gates at the "Worden State Park Convention Centre". Lots of buildings, but no obvious signs for a campground, so we turned towards the ocean, as we were targeting the campground on the beach. I should mention that Pat & Smitty have camped here before, but we lost track of them, because they got off the ferry first and we had to wait for several vehicles to clear before we were allowed off, so we didn’t see which direction they went.
As we made the turn, we spotted a trailer symbol on a post facing away from the ocean, with an arrow pointing into the gates. But, we were already committed to the turn, and with an apartment-on-wheels behind you, you can’t just change your mind and go another way on the spur of the moment. So we start driving, relying on Nancy to get us back to where we were. Unfortunately, many of the streets she tried to send us along were questionable about whether we could get through or not. And, of course, when you need to go slow is when you always end up with someone behind you. So she kept telling us to turn, but we couldn’t slow down enough to see if the street was passable, and would drive on by. Then she would get all accusatory with her tone as she would loudly declare “RECALCULATING”. After ignoring her turn instructions several times we finally took a chance on a street and did the “around the block” so we could head back from whence we came. I’m sure I heard “Jeez, it’s about time” and a big sigh come from the area of the dashboard.
When we got back to the Convention Centre gates, there was no trailer sign visible from the direction we were travelling, but we could see one further down the road, so we continued past the gates. A couple of blocks down, there was a camping sign for some fairgrounds straight ahead, and another trailer sign like the one at the gates, with an arrow indicating we should turn left. So left we go. After driving several blocks we realize this can’t possibly be taking us to the State Park, so we need to turn around and go back. By now Nancy is probably thinking she is dealing with a couple of complete morons and that it would serve us right if she just shut up and refused to talk to us ever again. We spotted a gravel pit beside the city works yard, which gave us enough room to turn around, and we headed back to the Convention Centre and turned in. Again, another big sigh coming from the dashboard. And, as we turned in, we could see Smith’s motorhome sitting in a parking lot up the road a ways. Glory hallelujah!! They had ignored their GPS as well, and followed the signs, but since they had been here before, they knew they needed to come through the gates, and not keep driving by them.
Turns out the beach campground is accessed through this compound. So we check in at the office, can’t get the three nights we want on the beach, so settle for spots in the upper campground in behind all these buildings. YEA!! We take our little tags and head to our designated campsites, with visions of G&T’s (or hard lemonade for me) dancing through our heads. But wait, there’s a camper van in Pat & Smitty’s spot!? So we park in our spot (just to get off the road) and they head back to the office to get things sorted out.
Next thing we know, here comes a park warden on a bike. He’s in contact with the office, and he’s checking the tags on the van, and looking in the windows (and I’m hoping there aren’t dead bodies in there or something). He offers us a couple of different sites, so we’re about to walk over and check them out to see if they’re suitable, when along come the occupants of the van. Guess they’d been out for a stroll or something. Now, it’s about 2:45pm, and checkout time is 1pm, so the warden made a point of reminding them about this, but it seemed to go right over their heads – no apology or excuse or anything. They packed up quickly and were gone before Pat & Smitty got back. Fortunately, we hadn’t started unhooking or anything, because the clerk in the office had given Pat & Smitty two better spots for us (bigger and prettier, but not as sunny) if we wanted them. So shift over to the new sites, and at last we could relax and laugh (through gritted teeth) about the day’s adventures.
Another yummy communal dinner, and spent the evening around a real fire. Listened to the jets from Whidby Island doing their night training manoeuvres. Tomorrow we’ll wander around Port Townsend and pick up some crab for dinner.
As we made the turn, we spotted a trailer symbol on a post facing away from the ocean, with an arrow pointing into the gates. But, we were already committed to the turn, and with an apartment-on-wheels behind you, you can’t just change your mind and go another way on the spur of the moment. So we start driving, relying on Nancy to get us back to where we were. Unfortunately, many of the streets she tried to send us along were questionable about whether we could get through or not. And, of course, when you need to go slow is when you always end up with someone behind you. So she kept telling us to turn, but we couldn’t slow down enough to see if the street was passable, and would drive on by. Then she would get all accusatory with her tone as she would loudly declare “RECALCULATING”. After ignoring her turn instructions several times we finally took a chance on a street and did the “around the block” so we could head back from whence we came. I’m sure I heard “Jeez, it’s about time” and a big sigh come from the area of the dashboard.
When we got back to the Convention Centre gates, there was no trailer sign visible from the direction we were travelling, but we could see one further down the road, so we continued past the gates. A couple of blocks down, there was a camping sign for some fairgrounds straight ahead, and another trailer sign like the one at the gates, with an arrow indicating we should turn left. So left we go. After driving several blocks we realize this can’t possibly be taking us to the State Park, so we need to turn around and go back. By now Nancy is probably thinking she is dealing with a couple of complete morons and that it would serve us right if she just shut up and refused to talk to us ever again. We spotted a gravel pit beside the city works yard, which gave us enough room to turn around, and we headed back to the Convention Centre and turned in. Again, another big sigh coming from the dashboard. And, as we turned in, we could see Smith’s motorhome sitting in a parking lot up the road a ways. Glory hallelujah!! They had ignored their GPS as well, and followed the signs, but since they had been here before, they knew they needed to come through the gates, and not keep driving by them.
Turns out the beach campground is accessed through this compound. So we check in at the office, can’t get the three nights we want on the beach, so settle for spots in the upper campground in behind all these buildings. YEA!! We take our little tags and head to our designated campsites, with visions of G&T’s (or hard lemonade for me) dancing through our heads. But wait, there’s a camper van in Pat & Smitty’s spot!? So we park in our spot (just to get off the road) and they head back to the office to get things sorted out.
Next thing we know, here comes a park warden on a bike. He’s in contact with the office, and he’s checking the tags on the van, and looking in the windows (and I’m hoping there aren’t dead bodies in there or something). He offers us a couple of different sites, so we’re about to walk over and check them out to see if they’re suitable, when along come the occupants of the van. Guess they’d been out for a stroll or something. Now, it’s about 2:45pm, and checkout time is 1pm, so the warden made a point of reminding them about this, but it seemed to go right over their heads – no apology or excuse or anything. They packed up quickly and were gone before Pat & Smitty got back. Fortunately, we hadn’t started unhooking or anything, because the clerk in the office had given Pat & Smitty two better spots for us (bigger and prettier, but not as sunny) if we wanted them. So shift over to the new sites, and at last we could relax and laugh (through gritted teeth) about the day’s adventures.
Another yummy communal dinner, and spent the evening around a real fire. Listened to the jets from Whidby Island doing their night training manoeuvres. Tomorrow we’ll wander around Port Townsend and pick up some crab for dinner.