Port Townsend, WA

December 14, 2025

A friend of mine says that whenever he crosses over the Hood Canal Bridge, he feels his stress levels drop. It is a remarkable crossing: longest floating bridge in the world in a saltwater tidal basin, linking the hustle and bustle of the Seattle metropolitan region to the Olympic Peninsula, which might as well be on a different planet. 

The peninsula is that land chunk that juts out the northwestern corner of what is otherwise a rectangular Washington state. Much of it is protected as the Olympic National Park, thanks to conservationists with the foresight to preserve these lands in the early 20th century. Highway 101 forms a ring around the peninsula, keeping most people along the periphery. The Olympic mountains and its untamed old growth coniferous forests rise on the middle of the peninsula, unaccessible except on foot, or via a few National Park roads. On its western side, fern and moss carpeted slopes march down to the Pacific Ocean. These are the traditional lands of many Native peoples, who have lived here since time immemorial.

We approached the Olympic Peninsula on its eastern side, starting at about 2 o'clock on the clockface that is Highway 101, heading counter-clockwise. This is supposed to be the sunny side of the peninsula, in the rainshadow of the Olympic mountains. But we arrived at the start of the 3rd atmospheric river that hit this region within a week.   I found an idyllic campsite at Port Hudson Marina, spot #40, on the edge of the Salish Sea. It's the sort of spot that would be impossible to get if it weren't mid-December. And for a few hours, we were quite pleased with ourselves. We did a resistance band workout while watching the Washington State ferry making its journey along the Salish Sea. Then, we took a walk around Port Townsend.

Port Townsend, population 10,000, was founded as a seaport, strategically located at the inlet of Puget Sound. It was supposed to be the northwest extension of the rail lines in an era (late 1800s) when the railway was supreme. Speculators built grand Victorian homes and public buildings, expecting that the town would grow into a major city once the rail lines arrived. Then the 1890s depression hit. The rail lines never made it west of Puget Sound. Port Townsend shrank into the quaint seaside town that it still is. Its deteriorating Victorian-era buildings still line Water Street, and the bluffs that overlook downtown. It doesn't feel like a bygone town of unfilled expectations though. Maybe it's the festive decorations, or the cheery inhabitants. I found it really quite pleasant to explore the shops and pubs for an afternoon.

The winds picked up just as we settled in for dinner. It turns out that having a campsite on the edge of the sea has its trade offs. Wind and sea spray battered the rig from all sides, all night, with gusts clocking in at almost 50mph. The AEONrv is built to withstand this, but I felt like I was on a boat in the middle of the sea. It's apparently possible to be sea sick while rocking on land. I wondered how strong a gust has to be to topple a 10,000 lb vehicle. Thankfully, at day break, we were still upright, and the rig had been christened by the gods and goddesses of the sea. With more wind and rain advisories on the way, we decided to head inland for better shelter.