A solo getaway to Olympic National Park

I’m a huge fan of the Pacific Northwest and its emerald green forests, rugged coastline, and driftwood-strewn beaches, but visiting a top national park in summer often brings the antithesis of what I came for—solitude—as huge crowds jockey for parking and trailside photo ops. My plan was to visit Olympic in mid-September for cooler temperatures and the utter quietude of forest bathing among ancient trees, while staying close enough to civilization to feel safe. Not only does the national park offer 15 official campgrounds scattered across its 922,651 acres, it’s also home to five historic lodging options (most parks have just one) for guests who’d prefer to not sleep solo inside a tent.

I’m very much your classic type-A traveler, meaning that I plan where I’m going to stay each night and 1-2 hiking options per day before I ever put my foot on the gas pedal. Then, I can be more flexible with food and drinks as needed. This strategy worked well in Olympic, because many of the park’s campsites and stunning vintage lodges should be booked in advance (I booked mine three months out in the less-traveled fall season), but last-minute travelers can breeze into the seven first-come, first-served campgrounds for a cozy tent spot.

One of the coolest things about national park lodges is that they’re designed to foster connection, and as such, there’s usually a massive fireplace surrounded by plush armchairs and sofas where guests can mingle at night, sipping a glass of wine or working on a 1,000-piece jigsaw puzzle. At Lake Quinault Lodge, I was able to chat with gray-bearded retirees about the best old-growth forest hikes and quiz hotel staff about the Roosevelt Dining Room (so named after FDR came to visit), right next door.

I saved by staying at a mix of dreamy waterfront spots like Lake Quinault Lodge and woodsy campgrounds, rather than splurging on fancy suites every night. I also ate hiking snacks for lunch every day (Bobo’s Oat Bars and Oloves are my must-haves), both cheap and convenient for on-the-go outdoorsy folks. Dinners are fun to spend more on after a full day of tide pool hopping and traipsing along mountain trails, so I chowed down in a big way after sunset—The Salmon House is rustic and delicious.

Though it’s remarkably close to Seattle, the Olympic Peninsula is surprisingly massive, and the towns and services travelers might need are often an hour or two’s drive away. Coming back from an early morning stroll along Rialto Beach, I blew out a tire and was grateful that I could roll slowly into the small town of Forks to get it patched nicely.

Even though taking the leap from my comfortable hotel room into the great outdoors was harrowing at first, I actually felt much safer and more at ease in the wilderness than I did in a big city, like nearby Seattle. Once I began strolling along the Hoh River Trail and slowing down to marvel at dappled sunlight and tiny mushrooms that looked like a pixie’s umbrella, I could feel my breath deepen and my nervous system begin to relax for the first time in a long time.