Day 3: Sunday July 4

We wake up, have a breakfast of doughnuts and Jimmy Dean sausage and egg breakfast biscuits…then realize that parades are going to be starting down the main drag—right past our motel. We hot-tail it to the beach (Kalaloch), in spite of the steady light mist. When on the Wetside of  Washington State, if you wait for it to stop raining, you’d never do anything. A little rain has never deterred us. Besides, we each have a rain poncho in the beach bag, so that if it rains heavily we can assure everyone around us that we’re from the same malformed branch of the family tree by donning these ponchos and looking like dorks.

We stay longer than I expect, given the rain and cold wind. La Princessa, Foster Kid, and me roam the beach, following the outrageously huge flock of seagulls that are doubtless leading us away from the whole sand dollars we’re seeking. The menfolk join us on a trek to the rocks to look at the tide pools, which aren’t really tide pools today because the tide is still on its way out. We’re regularly flooded with icy seawater every three minutes.

The plan was to go to Ruby Beach at low tide, but La Princessa has hit the wall. I thank God every step of the way to the car that she’s decided against Ruby Beach—quite frankly I doubt I can make the climb down to the beach, never mind the climb back up. Every muscle in my legs screams curses at the very thought of it.

Dinner was pizza at the local pizza joint, Pacific Pizza. DAMN good pizza, I might add. I ordered two large, knowing how it is when we order Domino’s for this crew. We could have gotten away with one large or a couple of mediums. Keep that in mind if you go there. There are some bad reviews kicking around the internet about this place—one fellow was obviously not the cheese lover that I am, since he griped about how much cheese was on the pizza. I myself did not find this to be a detriment.

We watched movies for the rest of the afternoon until it was time to head to Tillicum Park for the fireworks. The park’s lot was packed, so we ended up by Sully’s Drive In, parked in a dirt lot and aimed toward the park. The “pre-show” in the surrounding area was fantastic—I will say it pays to be located near so many Native American tribes; their fireworks are awesome. Last year on the Fourth of July, we went to Grand Coulee Dam, spent the day playing games and picnicking, watched the fireworks over the dam. In previous years, the fireworks there were excellent; last year, they fizzled short of expectations. In fact, it would be fair to say they were really lame. We were very disappointed. I don’t know if they had a bad batch with a bunch of duds or what, but the show was short and the fireworks themselves mediocre.
Not so with Forks. I hadn’t raised my hopes very high, realizing we were in a small town in the midst of uncertain national economic climate. I’m happy to say the fireworks in Forks blasted my expectations sky-high, you should pardon the bad pun. Thank you, Forks, for an excellent show.