Washington. Finding Solitude on the Hall of Moses Trail in Olympic National Park’s Hoh Rainforest
Most people associate the term “rainforest” with tropical climates and places like Brazil, the Congo, or Maylasia. In comparison, temperate rainforests of the cooler midlatitudes aren’t as well known. One of the largest temperate rainforests in the U.S. is the Hoh, located in Washington State’s Olympic Peninsula. Averaging 3,245 millimeters of rainfall each year, the Hoh is the wettest forest in the contiguous U.S. This can be compared with “rainy” Seattle’s 910 millimeters of annual precipitation. Originating from the Quileute word “ohalet” meaning “snow water,” the rainforest’s name is pronounced “hoe.” Glacially formed, the Hoh Valley is within a section of temperate rainforest that once stretched from southeast Alaska to the central coast of California. Today. the Hoh is entirely within Olympic National Park. The forest has been recognized as both an UNESCO World Heritage Site and a Biosphere Reserve.
Because of its position on the western slopes of the Olympic Mountains, the Hoh is among the first to receive moisture-laden winds blowing eastward from the Pacific. The forest’s proximity to the ocean also contributes to mild winters and cool summers. Compared to rainforests in warmer places such as Puerto Rico, the Hoh is less jungle-like, with ridgelines and valleys dominated by conifers such as Sitka spruce, western hemlock, and Douglas fir. There is also bigleaf maple, western red cedar, red alder, and cottonwood.
Along with tall trees, the forest’s appearance is shaped by unique species of lichen and mosses. Local fauna includes bobcat, racoon, puma, black bear, spotted owl, and black tailed deer. On many trails hikers will find yellow banana slugs, some up to 25 centimeters long. My journey to Olympic National Park began in Seattle. After renting a car at the airport, my colleague and I drove southward around Puget Sound and then north and west through Bremerton and Port Angeles.
The Olympic Peninsula first received federal protection as Mount Olympus National Monument in March 1909 and in 1938, the area was redesignated as a national park. Passing the town of Forks, we continued southward for about two hours before reaching a turnoff for the Hoh Rainforest. The Hoh is one of four rainforests located on the Olympic Peninsula that also include the Quinault, Queets, and Bogachiel.
We elected to hike the short (1.3 kilometer) Hall of Mosses Trail that took us through a lush stand of old growth trees. Our walk offered a unique chance to experience solitude. The forest’s thick canopy dampens noise and blocks most sunlight. Around us Sitka spruce and western hemlock trees extended upwards from the forest floor to heights of more than a hundred meters. Mosses that cling to trees are classified as epiphytes (plants that grow on another without harming it). Sitka bark is thin and scaly and compared to redwoods in California’s Sequoia National Park, the trees are not well adapted to fire. However, Sitka lumber is valued for making musical instruments such as harps, pianos, and guitars. The ground was dense and spongy and everywhere on the forest floor were shade-loving ferns. In some places we saw nursery logs in various states of decay. Often taking centuries to decompose, the logs provide nutrients used by saplings.
After completing our hike, we drove to where a stream crosses a deserted beach. The scene challenged my expectations. In lieu of soft sand and gentle waves, the beach was formed by rounded stones. Whitecapped waves approached the rugged coastline that was punctuated by steep cliffs. In a few places we could see rocky outcrops called sea stacks that have been separated from the coastline by wave erosion. Pushed onto the beach by waves, the piles of driftwood resembled many Lincoln Logs. A few had massive roots still attached that made them too heavy to be moved by waves.
