I wrote before about the weird thing of strangers asking me for directions. It seems to be my fate, because there I was, in Neah Bay way out in the far northwest corner of Washington for only the second time in my life, strolling along the road and looking for a restaurant, when a guy who sounded French or Québécois pulled up next to me, evidently quite lost.
“Do you know how to get to Clallum Bay and Ruby Beach? I think I made a wrong turn.”
He would have needed to go through Clallum Bay to get to Neah Bay, which is essentially the end of the road. I guess he didn’t have GPS helping him. Had someone told him he had to go to Callum Bay to get to Ruby Beach? If those were well intended instructions, then where the hell had he been coming from? Had he been smuggled by small boat from Vancouver Island, with a car awaiting him in Sekiu? Mystery.
“Callum Bay is back the way you came. I don’t know where Ruby Beach is.” I learned since then it’s about an hour south from Clallum Bay, on the Pacific coast. So if the next stranger needs to go there I’ll be able to help.
He drove off, resigned to a couple more hours of driving. And I continued my quest for lunch. And life’s answers.
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