
Memorial Beach is a remote beach at the very northern tip of the island, a good 4+ hour drive away from Thorne Bay. We’ve been wanting to go up there for a while, but we knew we wanted to spend the night and have some time to enjoy the place if we drove that kind of distance. The options of places to stay were 1) bring a tent, or 2) be lucky enough to be the first one to claim the one and only first-come, first-serve three-sided camping shelter. That’s it. In other words, it needed to be decent weather for tent camping, because there was no guarantee of securing the shelter.
When the forecast popped up with two days straight of sunshine with zero chance of rain (a bit of a rarity here in a rainforest!), we made some fast plans and went for it. I’m so glad we did. The weather was absolutely perfect, and we were fortunate enough to have the beach completely to ourselves for most of our stay—including the coveted camping shelter, complete with bunks and a tiny woodstove!
Prepare yourself to scroll through a lot of pictures!
It’s hard to accurately depict scale in photos sometimes, but the first shot below of Zach walking on the beach gives you some idea of the size of the old growth forest that surrounded us. These were BIG trees, and the forest floor beneath them was the loveliest place to walk.










There were some really beautiful and unique rocks at this beach, including marble. We also saw sea lions, sea otters and seals in the distance, and found the beautiful sea anemone pictured below. Our little camping shelter was situated perfectly to watch the sun set—what a treat to have nothing on our agenda but to sit there and watch it go down. We savored the beauty and silence of this place so much, and we only wished we had brought enough water and food to stay longer!













What I’ve been reading and thinking about this week:
“[The Lord] sent from on high, He took me; He drew me out of many waters.
He rescued me from my strong enemy, from those who hated me, for they were too mighty for me.
They confronted me in the day of my calamity, but the Lord was my support.
He brought me out into a broad place; He rescued me, because He delighted in me.” (2 Samuel 22:17-20)
So very, very thankful for this truth!
They are one of those last American frontiers of wilderness, these mysterious places that have triumphantly resisted many a pioneer effort to tame them. We drive north, and great stretches of land spiked with the craggy silhouettes of stunted spruce and feathery tamarack are all that meet the eye for miles. From the speed of the car window, it would seem that these trees are the only flora that manage to monotonously thrive amidst the swamp grasses. And inaccessible as they are, it can be a misconception difficult to prove otherwise.

If you’re fortunate enough to traverse a bog walk, however, you will find out that beneath the feathery tamarack branches there are wonderful, amazing plants that thrive in the water-logged, acidic soil, plants that you will see nowhere else but here. There are strangely beautiful carnivorous plants…
…


There are cranberries, bunchberries and labrador tea.





And who knows what else might lie beyond? The view a state park board walk lends is only a glimpse into this mysterious damp world of peat moss and uncertain footing. I like the intrigue of this, imagining the rare orchids hidden away in the vast reaches of the bogs, never to be discovered.
Farewell to watching the snow banks mount to the window sills and the thermometer drop out of sight,

Farewell to the
Farewell to rainbow sun dogs,
Farewell to conjuring up baking projects just for the sake of making the kitchen cozy,
Farewell to the best and longest ski season in years,
Farewell to the long dark of winter evenings,
Farewell to winter.