All the University engineers returned home. Ellen flew back and I was alone without a schedule in the land of great fish and bold coffee. It was my time with the hunting dogs. I took the Ferry over toward Port Angles where my Model 21 was supposed to have been sent in the late 1940's. I enjoyed Port Angles as it reminded me of a northern california town with lumber mills and a healthy fishery. One aspect to this Olympic region is the multitde of espresso house and fresh seafood. I love oysters and could buy a dozen for $5.
My drive out to Neah Bay was almost in total solitude a great relief from the gridlock of Seattle. The road hugged the coast and I could clearly see the Great Island of Vancouver and the Straits of Juan de Fuca. These waters teamed with sea life and I imagined the hordes of King Salmon retuning after three salt years to natal streams. I was not prepared for the culture of Neah Bay and of the Makah tribe
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