Astoria, OR
Elevation: 23ft.

After nearly a year-long hiatus I have finally returned to the blog life. It comes in the form of a rainy trip to the Olympic Peninsula, my OCD-driven resolve to consolidate my websites and a cathartic country song about being a mid-20s failure.

I have been struggling with the idea of combining my tumblr, 500px and Society6 for some time now. The inspiration, I suppose, is the sense of neatness and professionalism that one gets when they own a single, custom domain name. “One site to rule them all”, you could say. The struggle? I’m incredibly lazy. The idea came to me this summer during my time on Kure Atoll where I worked as a habitat restoration tech with 6 other people to rid a 200-acre island of invasive plant species (see gallery). Kill the bad plants to save the good birds. I lived on the atoll for 6 months surrounded by thousands of seabirds, pristine ocean air, unending horizons, fiery sunsets, the bluest water you could imagine and shorelines of marine debris. The work was hard and repetitive so I often filled my days with podcasts, one of which was Star Talk hosted by Neil DeGrasse Tyson and Chuck Nice. Herein lies the inspiration for my website. Simply put, their squarespace commercial was among the few commercials I would hear for the next 6 months.

It has been a little over 4 months since I returned from the island and I have been filling my time with applying for work, exploring my new home base in Astoria, keeping in reasonable shape and volunteering at the Julia Butler Hansen Refuge for the Columbian White-Tailed Deer. Besides a 2-month trip back to Virginia for the holidays and a 2-week long road trip around Oregon back in November – I have travelled relatively little. Nothing to write home about at least.

Enter the Olympic Peninsula.

Texting back and forth a couple of weeks ago with my good friend, Becca Klassy, I realized that our schedules lined up for a potential 3-day adventure. Scouring my Hiking Oregon and National Parks guidebooks I settled on the Olympic Peninsula. Neither of us had ever been and it was a great opportunity to test out my current adventuremobile setup with a girl and a dog thrown into the mix. Olypen is tricky in that the olympic range creates its own weather patterns and, like a mini cascades, is extremely wet on it’s west side with a rain shadow to the east. The range itself is shaped like a horseshoe with several major watersheds radiating outwards in all directions (Wikipedia and guidebooks). Our visit would be during the peninsula’s wettest season.

Boundary-wise, olypen is a patchwork of reservation, national forest and park service land with Olympic National Park making up the majority. This would prove to be a major problem for us when we realized at the end of our first day that dogs weren’t allowed on any national park trails. Journeying up Hwy-101 we were able to access the shoreline to our west and the park to our east. Scattered along the highway are small towns and reservations but for the most part olypen has a remarkably small number of roads. This would prove to be another major problem for us as a heavy storm swept the peninsula our first night flooding the roads and downing trees along 101. But more on that later. Among the small towns and reservations located in olypen are none other than Forks, La Push and Port Angeles – towns, I learned from a very animated Becca Klassy, are major settings in the Twilight series.

Our first day was spent travelling up the coast from Astoria checking out Kalaloch campground, Beach 4 and Ruby Beach along the way. Right off the bat it was pouring rain, overcast and cold. Our plan was to progressively check potential campgrounds as we made our way up into the park and, based on how much daylight we had left, choose one to settle in that night.

The beaches were absolutely beautiful. The storm was encroaching upon us making for angry waves and whipping wind. Ancient driftwood lined the shores – pulled out of the hearts of these forests by rivers just to be pushed back by the sea. Grand sea stacks loomed in the distance, worn away from the mainland by crashing waters, these lonely islands truly make the pacific coast iconic. All said and done, Becca, Addie and I got to see that raging ocean we had wanted to and got to breath in the cold sea air.

En route to the Hoh Rainforest Visitor Center we came across a small, unassuming outdoor outfitter named, Peak 6 Adventure Store. We almost kept driving but the word “Adventure” was enough to lure us in. In a word I would describe it as, “cozy”. The first things I noticed was that it was run by a friendly old lady, had a real fire going and carried Helly Hansen. We got to talking to the owner and learned that their family also owned the large ranch behind the shop and that this was, for a long time, just an add-on. I’m not sure if they still own the ranch today but from her we learned that their family had a long tradition of guiding folks through the park on horseback. That was pretty much the cincher for Becca and I. Looking around she found a nice shirt with the tree of life printed on it and I found a warm, thick, well-made flannel for a quarter of the price you’d pay for anywhere else. Small shops for the win! Becca snatched it from me and paid for it citing how I had paid for everything else so far – it’s just the way I am ladies.

We settled in for the night at the Hoh Rainforest campground and, upon discovering that all of the hiking Addie did on the beaches was illegal, decided to dedicate the next day to exploring Forks, La Push and potentially Port Angeles.

Waking up the next morning we gunned it for Forks but were stopped only a few minutes down Upper Hoh Rd. by a couple of downed trees likely attributed to the heavy winds and flooding the night before. Upon inspection I noticed that they had luckily splintered into manageable pieces and, running the numbers in my head, I figured my best bet would be to hook them up to Rhyhorn, pull them until they broke and then tow them into the next lane. The idea was that we just needed to clear one lane to get by and that park service would handle the rest. I only had 4 ratchet straps, a pocket chainsaw (thank you so much Ellery!) and Rhyhorn but I made it work. (See my instagram for the video – thanks Becca!).

Photo Credit: Becca Klassy

According to Becca, Forks is the town that the vampires and Bella lived in. To me it seemed like any other small sleepy town until we drove past it’s visitor center and Becca recognized Bella’s truck.

As we drove further through town is became quite apparent that they had no reservations about the Twilight craze. Small shops here and there named their things after vampires and werewolves, “Twilight burgers” and “Twilight firewood” were a couple of my favorites. On our drive back through Forks the next day we would stop by Sully’s Burgers for milkshakes, upon a friend’s suggestion – they were amazing.

La Push is the reservation that the main werewolves in Twilight are from. We got to unwind and take in some fresh air at First Beach. Despite not seeing Taylor Lautner anywhere it was well worth the drive up.

After gathering my thoughts, running the numbers and taking a shit I made the call to shoot for Port Angeles. I knew that it would take us 1.5 hours to get there, that we wanted to camp as far south along the coast as possible and that Bella bought her prom dress there. Rejoining the 101 we travelled northeast and entered the Olympic National Forest. Much of the drive so far had been a clear cut/ replant patchwork and it was re-energizing to see the deep greens of the federally managed lands.

Before long we were entering the national park again and the highway snaked south along the bottom of the beautiful, glacier-carved Lake Crescent. A thick fog settled in and the speed limit dropped. It gave me time to appreciate the lake’s deep, emerald color and for a moment I was able to fantasize what it might be like to live in the isolated communities grandfathered into the national park. Pulling into the Storm King Ranger Station we stretched our legs and gave Addie a chance to burn some energy at the pier. Between the fog, the glass-like water and the peaceful sounds of loggers zooming in the distance I felt at ease – the perfect mixture of nature and society for me.

Port Angeles was without a doubt the largest city we visited in the peninsula and was the farthest northwest I have been in North America. Complete with a large port, a decent sized downtown and a Safeway there wasn’t much else we could have needed. Walking out onto the city pier we gazed across the Straight of Juan de Fuca – Victoria, BC bustling somewhere in the distance.

Safeway sandwiches in hand we departed the city just as the sun went down. Before us was a 2-hour drive south towards Kalaloch campground. We had scoped it out on our first day and knew the farther we drove tonight, the less we drove tomorrow. The fog had gotten worse and my fatigue wasn’t helping. Though we didn’t end up hiking very much all of the hours spent driving were adding up. As we wound our way back along Lake Crescent I couldn’t help but feel that something wasn’t quite right. I kept thinking about how dark it was, how wet it was, how windy it was, how unplugged it was. Though the campground was only 2 hours away we were in the middle of stormy country with out-of-state plates and a minority behind the wheel. It was moments like this that made me grateful to have Becca and Addie with me. So much of my travels have been solo (by choice, I fucking love it) but trips like this can be unsettling and sometimes scary when you’re alone. About a mile out from our campground, a mere 10 minutes away, we hit a dead end.

I can’t say that it was unexpected, honestly we were really lucky to have made it this far, but it really fucking blew. Unsure of what to do we turned around. The tree was too large to attempt what I did that morning and we didn’t have any signal. On top of that it was windy and rainy and pitch dark. I stalled for a bit because didn’t want to believe it; mainly because I was so tired and I knew that the next campground was 40 minutes back in the direction we came. It was about then that I noticed headlights beaming from the other side of the log. Getting out of Rhyhorn I walked over and greeted a surprised bus driver. It was only 1900 or so, so a good amount of traffic would still be on the roads. We both agreed that the best thing to do would be to turn around and report the tree to 911 as soon as we found signal. Putting Rhyhorn into drive we made our way back to the state-run Hoh-Oxbow Campground.

Pulling into an open spot, Becca fed Addie as I prepared Rhyhorn for bed. In only two nights the three of us had worked out a rhythm. My finding was that sharing one big blanket was not nearly as comfortable as sleeping in our own sleeping bags. Whenever Addie would join us in the back she would lay between us pulling the blanket off of us both. I also learned that, even though I set up Rhyhorn with a minimum carry, there was no comfortable way for two decently tall people to sleep straight-legged – fetal position or bust. The next morning brought with it the clearest conditions we had had all week.

3.5 hours later and we were pulling into good ol’ Astoria, OR. It’s amazing how quickly this little fishing city has become home for me. I hugged and thanked my adventure partner for a great trip and we went our separate ways.

The Losing Side of 25

If you know me well you know that I have struggled deeply with the concept of success. Since high school I have been paranoid, anxious and borderline depressed about the encroaching weight of adulthood. I remember asking myself often when exactly did a person become an adult? Was it learning to drive, getting your first paycheck, paying rent for the first time or was it ordering your first beer? Did I become an adult the first time I got laid or was it when I became the proud owner of Rhyhorn? And once you had all of those things covered what did it mean to be successful? Growing up as a first generation Cambodian American the answer was simple – get a good education, get a good job, raise a good family and contribute back to society – become a doctor.

If you know me well you know that I am definitely not a doctor. I went to school with the goal of becoming a pharmacist. I did 4 years of rigorous pre-pharm courses and worked all 4 years in a pharmacy as a licensed technician. In the end, however, I decided to pursue a career in the outdoors. Now my parents and much of my extended family were of course worried, wary and generally confused. But they have been nothing but supportive. The feeling of being on the losing side of 25, the reason for suddenly wanting to write again and the reason for finally creating this website – comes purely from me.

Fast-forward to today and I’m 26, have held 8 jobs and lived in 4 states in the last 4 years, partially live out of my truck and buy bulk lunch meat from Costco. I have seen a lot of places and have met a lot of “adults” and have realized the thing we all have in common is that we have no fucking idea what we’re doing. The more I see and learn and do the more I realize that my cookie-cutter sense of what it means to be successful isn’t necessarily a single shape. That successful can also mean, just being happy.

To build this website I had to go through nearly 4 years worth of photography and writing. I meticulously rebuilt every one of my blog posts and photo galleries from scratch and thus found myself facing many of my old demons (and terrible file management). I have always been in a constant state of inter-personal analysis but after this week I have to say that I am really over myself.

It was interesting sifting through all of my angst and depression and cheesiness and incredibly inaccurate sense of plants, geography and wildlife. It was hard to rehash old heartaches and to visit old places that hold a lot of sentiment for me. It really made me miss my old friends and my home in Virginia. But what it showed me, and I am grateful for this, was that I really have come a long way in these 4 short years. Now I know it sounds like I’m about to go on a rant about how great I’ve done, but the truth is that I am still no where near where I thought I’d be at 26. I’m not in grad school, I don’t have a permanent or even long temp position and I still haven’t technically worked for the fed. Also, Rhyhorn hasn’t become the lifted tesla-crushing-bald-eagle-flames-in-the-background-don’t-tread-on-me chick magnet I wanted him to be. But I’m ok with all of that.

This website was created to carry on the sentiments of my old tumblr; to be the hub for my travels, my writing, my photography and my progress for the years to come. My hope is that it will reflect all of the experience I have gained these 4 years and perhaps show in some way that I have grown as a writer, photographer and person. But perhaps the most important purpose I want this website to have is to be a connection to all of my friends and family all over the world. To be, in its own way, a tribute to the people that have helped me become the person I am today.

Mahalo and with all my love,

Chris