An uninhabited river bank is just the kind of terrain Otis loves to explore.
Just a few feet from our camp, this frosty blue glacial river provides hours of pug entertainment.
Upon returning to our site, Otis sees Hubs standing on the picnic table, assessing how much sun is hitting our solar panels. It must look like a good idea, because when Hubs turns around, Otis has made himself a perch.
Murray thinks the pug rapture has happened and never figures out where Otis got off to.
He contents himself with pets and a good sit in the warm sun.
With a busy morning of exploring over, the humans leave the pugs to recoup their strength as we drive to Hoh Rainforest.
Along the way, we see a large Sitka Spruce marked out on our Benchmark Atlas and stop to admire it.
The tree is huge. Huge is an inadequate measure. I can just barely fit it in my wide-angle lens.
The base is nearly thirteen feet in diameter! I couldn't grow that big if I lived to be 6,004, and this spruce did it in a paltry 500 years!
After gaping up at the gargantuan tree for a few minutes, we continue into the rainforest until we reach the visitor center and trailheads.
In this land, green is an overachiever. It creeps along the bottoms of brooks, grows long and lush in the water, and even tries to cover the surface.
Our chosen path is called the Hall of Mosses, and for good reason.
Lumbering old trees stand in a circle and discuss the advantages of being draped in such finery.
Oh, how everything is in a hurry to grow. No time to let a deceased tree base rot ... onward, upward, grow grow grow!
Two trees spread their roots over a decaying neighbor, and when the "nurse tree" has finally returned to compost, the roots of the younger trees outline its ghost.
This is the time to see the rainforest, for in a few weeks it will be plunged back into torrential rain.