Day One - Vance Creek and Cronuts
Vance Creek Viaduct
I love the whirl of the plane turbines right before take off, that gentle humm turning more violent as they reach ideal speeds symbolizes new experiences on the horizon. It was early in the morning and the smell of breakfast foods transferred onto the plane from the terminal we were to leave behind shortly. On my right Mike ( @mike_sap ) sat fighting for his armrest and trying to gain some sleep, this process may have been easier had he realized his seat reclined earlier then leaving the airport in our rental. A quick chirp of the wheels as we touched down and fast forward through baggage claims and annoying rental services we were on the Seattle roads looking for food and to kill time before the completion of this road trip trio in the form of model/photographer Kayla ( @kaylasavage_ ) landed a few hours after us. A few slices of pizza later and a quick nap in the jeep found us back at the airport to scoop up the girl in the yellow raincoat.
The traffic out to Olympic National Park was less then ideal and forced us to a pit stop for Cronuts, i know it was a hard decision, then to a local super market where we all had the same idea to pick up granola bars and water. Now that we had sugar comas and a pallet of granola in the backseat we continued the drive up toward Olympic. Slowly the traffic dissipated and gave way to curving pine lined roads up and down cascading mountains. Every so often one would catch the slight twinkle of the emerald ocean water peaking back through the forest. The destination of the day was an old wooden and steel train bridge that would span across a deep canyon to opposing mountain tops. Vance Creek Bridge, has become quite popular on social media especially for its railing-less sides giving way the opportunity for the note worthy dangle shots that have become insanely saturated online. Having heard of trouble with officials we parked a few miles down and hiked in, the trail out started as an old service road for the bridge and quickly became nothing more then a foot path, weaving, winding, up over that rock, down under that tree, hop across the stream, repeat, repeat, repeat. Then all at once the mammoth evergreens gave way to blue skies and in the foreground the massive bridge reached far across. Fellow hikers whom had made there way towards the other side seemed like miniature figurines dancing from plank to plank.
Kayla taking photos
Mike on Vance Creek
Once we gathered our courage we slowly and precisely stepped on each tie making our way out to the center of the bridge. The wind pushed against my back as i stood over looking the vast scar in the earth before my eyes, looking down my eyes had trouble computing the height difference between the tree tops and where i currently stand. A babbling stream slithered through rocks glistening in a milky teal beauty. The sun was still high in the sky and although not pleasing for photographs gave way to every hidden detail in the mountains. My heart fluttered as i sat on the edge of the second tallest archway railroad bridge in the country, also being that it was built in 1929 didn't help the nerves, still gazing out over the edge was freeing and enlightening all at once the only thing on my mind was each second of that moment as it danced away into past.
Kayla on Vance Creek
Now back at the jeep we continued on into Olympic National Park and found shelter in the form of a local campground for the night. Our site was nestled in the dense rainforest on a bed of soft dirt and pine needles. It was dark at this point and the temperature was dropping so we quickly set up our respective tents, showered in the camp stalls, and had a delicious dinner of granola bars and water before calling it a night. The temperatures even though being June quickly dropped as we all found out at different points through the night waking to a shiver down the spine, or a foot not wrapped in the safety of sleeping bag or blanket. Waking up to sunlight twinkling through greenery we quickly broke down and headed off to see what the park had to offer us on day two.
Salvation Mountain - " We found an oasis "
After a hasty getaway from the Salton Sea we drove a few more miles and reached the eastern end of the vast lake and the final town we would drive through before reaching Salvation Mountain. As we pulled through the town we saw it was surrounded by massive power plants and power lines strewn around like cobwebs in an old attic, businesses and houses were just as deserted as the other small towns we ran through earlier in the day. The further we got the less building we were seeing, as they tapered off completely the roads became surrounded by piles of broken glass shimmering in the mid day sun, abandoned concrete structures coated in vibrant graffiti and cryptic messages were now the only thing resembling structures and life we saw. Miles into the distant desert as far as the eye could see were old camper vans on blocks with slapped together tent huts around them, “do people really live out here” we both murmured. Surely one couldn't survive out here for long, as we came up on one of the martian huts we saw a weather torn man sitting in a lawn chair in worse shape then him, he gave a slight nod as we drove past as if to answer or previous question. Cresting a small hill on the dirt road we traveled one could see a large mound in the distance, not like the sand covered ones we had been seeing for miles, this one was special for ever a few miles out the radiant colors it had been painted with glowed in the distance like a mirage from the movies. We sped up to make our way to it as if it was going to disappear before we could reach it, the parking lot was small and the van kicked up a dust storm as we pulled in and parked off to the side, the once small colored mound had grown quickly as we approached now towering over our van as we left the vehicle. “ Welcome to Salvation Mountain ” a friendly voice chimed from a few yards away, we glanced to where the voice had came and saw an older women sitting pleasantly in a shaded hut next to an old car hand painted with life lessons. She told us how this place was special to her for more then just obvious reasons,. That back home, which surprisingly was very close to our home, she could no longer walk due to issues involving her back but once she got out here to Salton Sea that she hasn't had a day of pain since! This was further proven by her climbing and painting the side of the mountain all day.After continuing finishing up our conversation with the pleasant lady we began exploring the most odd of places, starting with a “cave” on the far right entirely made by hand using only what was available which from the looks of it was adobe, branches, and old car parts, once inside you felt as though you just jumped into a child Dr. Suess book. Strange colors lined the walls in sporadic patterns, makeshift portholes formed with circular shards of glass molded into the wall sides, these let in beams of multi color light that danced around the open room. The air inside and out was clean and dry, we passed through a dimly lit corridor and ended up in a room filled with belongings of fellow visiter's, everything from photos to drivers licenses lined the walls, a penance for the extraordinary place they just experienced. On top of the mountain you could see the desert stretch miles until meeting mountains, we made our way down said our goodbyes to the kind women, took one last look back at the brightly colored peak and hopped into the van and off to our next adventure.