Orcas Island nestled in blue skies and waters, hugged by green trees that line the shores appeared as a jewel to our left, as the Washington State Ferry captain announced our arrival.
Passengers with cars were told to go below deck, and get ready to disembark. (I recalled how thrilled I was that I drove from Los Angeles because I've seen so much more than had I flown or taken the train.)
From the Ferry Landing I drove along tree-lined roads, past picturesque farms, lakes, and a few baby deer.
I made my way to the center of Orca's downtown called Eastsound Village, which is a few blocks of quaint shops, eateries and inns situated on a picturesque inlet with island views.
Once I checked into my lodge (more in another post about where to stay and what to do), I headed out to Doe Bay Resort and Retreat for what I was told would be the most delicious food and view.
I'd already driven 45 minutes since leaving Roche Harbor on San Juan Island, and I wasn't keen about getting back in the car to drive another 25 minutes.
But I hadn't been to stunning Orcas Island where unlike Los Angeles driving can be a pleasure and not a pain, nor had I been to the cafe at Doe Bay, which, in retrospect was one of the best restaurants I've ever been to.
The drive to Doe Bay Resort had stunning views at every turn, and when I arrived this is what I saw.
And this is what I learned.
Doe Bay Cafe has an on-site organic garden, and they compost food waste, use "waste water" to water plants, and host volunteers from WWOOFers (Worldwide Opportunities of Organic Farms, which enables people to learn first hand about organic gardening.
I met Peter, a Philly transplant, who grows organic vegetables Doe Bay as a WWOOFers volunteer.
You know when you go to a restaurant and they drown the salad, overcook the fish, and wilt the greens to what's that? Not here.
Chef Abigael Birrell created tasty colorful masterpieces to perfection. My seared Alaskan Halibut was topped with chard. Why? It grew well in their garden and was hand-picked that day. Volunteer organic gardener Peter shows off his part in this creation.
I was offered organic wine along with a long list of libations to choose from.
I didn't drink much because I was headed for Constitution Point located in Moran State Park.
Constitution Point is the highest point in the San Juan Islands, which offers stunning panoramic views.
I couldn't wait to get there, so I attached my camera to its tripod in advance to be ready for great photo opps with each view.
Sunset started a little after 9 p.m. so I left Doe Bay Cafe fully satisfied and made my way toward Moran State Park and by 9:30 p.m. I was climbing up a windy two lane road.
Climbing, climbing up 2, 409 feet.
Why are there no cars on the road, I wondered? It was getting dark, naturally, which was the whole idea. And I wondered if the gate at the bottom of the hill would remain open. I mean, until I came down.
I had food and water in the car.
Just in case.
Occasionally a deer shot into the road, which was one reason I was told to drive slowly, especially around sunset when deer shoot into the roads like let's play dodge the car.
I had other reasons to go slow, too.
There were still no cars in any direction. My cell phone.
No signal.
I gripped the wheel, and wondered if I'd see another soul. I climbed higher and higher, passing tall trees that shadowed the road. And then after what felt like enough time to get trapped in the wilderness, a clearing appeared and far below lay the Puget Sound dotted with islands.
This was not the panoramic view, something on the way to would I ever get there?
I panicked. Was that smoke I smelled? From my car? Campfires? I wasn't sure. I remained a city gal trapped in a want-to-do-well-in-the-country attitude and fell short of succeeding on my own with no people or cars in sight.
So there amongst trees, some of which had fallen by the side of the road, and bushes that made me wonder what creatures might walk through them, I gave in to the city side of me, and reminded myself to take a deep breath of clean air and stop thinking about the three inches that separated me and my non-working cell phone from a long fall.
With the sound of silence as my only companion, save for an occasional rustle of leaves in a subtle breeze--at least that's what I told myself the sound was--I haphazardly stuck my camera perched on its tripod out the open window, and quickly snapped, snapped, snapped, get me out of here!
Carefully, slowly, I backed the bum of my car into a tiny area filled with rocks and fallen trees, and turned that Lexus down the windy road, making it back to Eastsound Village in time to catch my breath.
I can't say that fear turned into exhilaration like when I ziplined, but I did get something pretty nice out of that experience.
Now it's the next morning, and I'm determined to find a new friend to join me and return for sunset because without doubt the view from Moran State Park's Constitution Point is worth a second go. The colors in the sky here are amazing. Failing finding a sunset friend, I'll still venture back during the day.
See you soon with more to report from The San Juan Islands. And if you're in the area, Doe Bay Cafe has open mic night on Thursdays. Maybe I'll see you there tonight.
Oh, one last thing before I leave, that photo above? Guess.
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