Hurricane Ridge

At the top of the Olympic Peninsula to-do list was hiking Hurricane Ridge. 

Half-way up the mountain, and you can see Port Angeles and the Straight of Juan de Fuca in the distance.

There were deer everywhere, with no fear of humans.

Deer at the Hurricane Ridge visitors' center before driving up to the trail head

The Olympics

I survived the drive up to Hurricane Ridge would be an apt statement. Some parts of the road were perilous, to say the least.

It looks just like The Sound of Music.

Deer!

I was so excited to find avalanche lilies. I thought they weren't in bloom this late in the year.

There were goat warnings everywhere, and all of the rangers were warning hikers. Apparently, they are a greater danger than bears and cougars, as they will charge unprovoked. We were told goat attacks can be fatal.

Deer!

Dillon ran up to the top.

We are higher than the clouds.

Watching the rain come in

The rain cloud was right on our heads, but it only sprinkled.

Jessica saw no resemblance between the two of us. Amazing.

More rain right on top of us

The hills are alive!

GOATS!

We grabbed rocks and sticks before carefully making out way down the crest, the goats chasing us.

Good riddance.

There were some Mountain Dew jokes.

Hey, snow!

Making a snowball in July

Dillon had the perfect timing . . . right until he got hit in the face.

Who's photo-bombing whom?

More goats. Beware their horns of death.