Cape Flattery is the northwestern-most point in the Continental United States. It is at the end of the tiny tip that protrudes off the upper left corner of Washington State, seperating the Strait of Juan de Fuca from the Pacific Ocean. This point was named by one of my heroes of discovery, Captain James Cook, who wrote in his ships log, “there appeared to be a small opening which flattered us with the hopes of finding an harbour … On this account I called the point of land to the north of it Cape Flattery.” I am fascinated by the courageous exploration of Captain Cook and his accuracy for navigational charting. In fact, one of my favorite books was “Blue Latitudes,” where the author, Tony Horowitz humorously retraces the voyages of Cook in attempt to honor his legacy, (syphilis and murderous ending withstanding, of course.)

The general consensus around Camp Mora was that we all wanted to see this northwestern-most point, but after having secured primo parking on a crowded weekend where the weather forecast was just about perfect, some of us (more specifically, yours truly) don’t want to risk moving from a beautiful spot for fear there will be more weekend challenges down the road. So plans begin to gel around touring Cape Flattery as a day trip.

Debbie offers to drive Kim and me, so I gleefully slide into the back seat, my preferred position from my childhood, slumping down in the seat with my nose pressed to the window. Chuck and Carla take the lead in their jeep. It is going to be a fun day, as Debbie and Carla radio back and forth about potential stopping points.

(Thanks, Kim, for the photo “share.”)

The road is narrow and “bendy,” so I am grateful not to be driving, much less towing a car. Much of the road hugs the shoreline, and the scenery is more picturesque than the fall Land’s End catalog.

We stop for lunch at the “Warm House Restaurant” overlooking Neah Bay, where I ask about their specialties. The waitress recommends either Fish and Chips or their famous burgers, so Kim and I go halvsies. We agree hands down, the burger wins!

We are now trespassing on an Indian Reservation, home of the Makah tribe, “the Cape People,” so we must purchase a permit. We ask for information on the recommended hiking options available on the tribal land. The woman who sells us the permits suggests two hikes. She gives us a few pointers, all while looking sideways out the big picture window over the bay. She warns “The fog is out there. I see it moving in. You had better get to the lighthouse fast.”

“Ya’ll??”

Kim, Debbie, Carla, and Chuck

The three quarter mile trail to the tip end of Cape Flattery has a big payoff. As if it needed a “grand finale,” the means to the end is rewarding enough. The trail through the heavily wooded forest is quite scenic through lush ferns and moss-covered trees, with several lookout points along the way.

Excitement builds as we get closer, until the last couple of lookout spots are bypassed altogether, as one of the group exclaims, “I can see it!!” I race on ahead toward the end of the trail, hearing the woman’s cautionary tone in my head, “The fog is out there…” We know we will be lucky if we beat it there, as others have not fared so well. Fog typically envelops the tiny Tatoosh Island in a thin, low lying marine layer lingering offshore, just thick enough to obscure the view.

I climb the small ladder that leads to the viewing platform, perched at the very end of Cape Flattery, overlooking Tatoosh Island. There she is, clear as the clang of the bell on a navigational buoy. It is as if Cape Flattery Light has her own stage!

Built in 1854, she is another elusive beauty like Cape Arago, standing unreachable, just offshore on a lone island, not accessible to the public even if I had a boat. Now under management of the local Native American tribe, the lighthouse is no longer operational, as the solar powered skeleton structure provides the only navigation. My friends know I am a self-proclaimed “lighthouse nut,” so there are comments. “What, no swimming?”

First glimpse of Cape Flattery Light on Tatoosh Island

I am afraid this is as close as I can get with my current camera…

“Here….puffin, puffin, puffin…”

The wind is giving me the same funky hairstyle as it gave the trees!

We all stand on the platform at the end of the trail and remark how cool it is to be at the point of the Cape, knowing we have all gone as far northwest as we can go!

But our trip to Cape Flattery is not complete without pursuit of one more stop on the treasure map. I have read on Nina’s Wheelingit blog about a small shack in Neah Bay that sells smoked salmon, served hot out of the smoker. I remember the photo and the nick name, “Kimm’s Place,” but neglected to write down the actual business name. So we start driving the small, pot-holed streets of Neah Bay in search of a blue dilapidated building emitting the aroma of alder wood. As we are driving past, I get a glimpse of a sign marking the direction for the “Take Home Fish Company,” and I recognize the fish-shaped sign from Nina’s photo. We make a U-Turn, and enter the open door with a bit of trepidation.

As I approach, I hear him telling another patron he is all out for the day. My heart sinks, as Nina has said Kimm’s salmon is “swoon-worthy,” so I have to try it! Turns out, the man was inquiring about fresh fish, not smoked. So I ask, “You still have smoked salmon?” Kimm is standing at the table, presiding over a stainless steel bowl, covered with a blue towel. He looks down at the bowl, looks back up at me, and says, “You’ve never been here before, have you?” as he slowly rolls back the towel to reveal a smokin’ hot bowl of the most beautiful salmon filets I have ever laid eyes on.

He cuts us off each a bite, and as Kim says, our knees buckle. You can’t imagine the “ooohs and aaaaahs” coming from the three of us! Without a doubt, we agree it is the best salmon we have ever put in our mouths. I tell him I want a “belly piece,” which typically has a little higher fat content, making it more moist. It is so delicate, so juicy, so fatty that I call it, “the fois gras of salmon.”

But my favorite line of the day was when I asked how long the vacuum-sealed pieces would last in the fridge. Kimm replied, “Stick it in your fridge, smoke some weed, and forget about it for four or five months.” Now that kind of advice, you can’t get on the Food Network!