This would be a day unlike any other; we'd be all over the map ... literally and figuratively. Different countries, different temperature zones, different terrain, different modes of transportation. We arrived in Port Angeles on a sunny morning, the focal point and launch pad for our widely and wildly fluctuating activities.

First up, we go up ... from sea level to Hurricane Ridge in the Olympic National Park. Heart o' the Hills Parkway winds 17 miles south and west into the Olympic Mountains. We had beautiful views of the north coast below us — Port Angeles, Sequim and across the Strait to Vancouver Island, as we made the climb. We saw several deer on the way, very unaffected by the attention. They took their time crossing the road, looking at us.

We were lucky to have relatively clear skies, and could see the snowcapped peaks all along the ridge. There were deep green valleys, and some open grassy fields along the sides of the mountains. Around every turn we had different vistas.

The higher we climbed, the wider the panorama became. The Olympic Mountains are anywhere from 6,000 to almost 8,000 feet. (Mt. Olympus being the king at 7,965 ft.) Here's what we saw near the top: Click on the picture for a larger view.

The temperature was dropping noticeably, according to our car thermometer and my bare legs. When we reached the lodge at the end of the road, one mile high, it was 45 degrees and windy. We went into the lodge, its gift shop and exhibit rooms. It was perched on the edge of a meadow of wildflowers, and overlooked the mountains. For more views of Hurricane Ridge, go here.

It would have been nice to do some hiking here, but our time was limited ... as was my clothing. We didn't do much more than scratch the surface of the Olympic National Park, as we skirted around its edges traveling north, then took this drive to the ridge. It also includes more than 60 miles of Pacific coastline — still a protected wilderness that included Kalaloch and La Push. So, from mountains, to rain forest, to ocean, it had it all.

As we headed back north to Port Angeles, I studied the ferry schedules. Yes, we could catch the 12:15 boat to Victoria, hooray. There were two lines running over to Vancouver Island, one took vehicles, the other just passengers. We raced into town, down to the waterfront, and got on the Victoria Express, a 105-foot passenger ferry that made the crossing in just an hour. And fortunately we only needed a driver's license to get into Canada and back ... let's go!

As we walked around perimeter of the harbor (a hub of activity — every kind of water vessel imaginable, including sea planes taking off and landing), the temperature was in the 80s; it was glorious. Now, I'll get to those flowers I mentioned earlier ... hanging on every cluster street lamp they were: gorgeous huge multi-specimen flower baskets. These are a Victoria trademark, and this is the flower capital of Canada. Flower boxes and baskets also lined sidewalks and rooftops, everywhere you looked.

We had lunch in a sunny atrium cafe near the train station, then got on board for our adventure — a ride up to Malahat Mountain. Where? you ask. I don't know, to this day. To sum up the trip most succinctly: we saw backyards and trees while trapped for 2+ hours in a dark train car. We couldn't hear any of the guide's commentary because the train noise was too loud. Yes, there were a few nice views (and Arbutus trees) ...but, in retrospect, we should have stayed in Victoria. Oh well, can't guess right all the time.

As we pulled out of the harbor, the captain warned the full boat load that those up on deck might want to find seats on the lower level. Hmmm, on this beautiful day? Well, in the few hours since our trip over, conditions on the Strait had changed. Though still sunny, it was extremely windy, and the waves high and choppy. It was a rough ride back, as we zigged and zagged to avoid hitting waves head on. Even more exhilarating than the ride over, we enjoyed the excitement and crashing surf. People who did remain up top staggered down to the covered area soaked but smiling. I ventured up once, but didn't stay long ... footing was not good, it was hard to maneuver about and protect my camera. We talked to some seat mates, nice people all, some from California via New York (very NY) and another couple from the Midwest. It was interesting comparing travel experiences, while we all hoped against seasickness.

We arrived intact though late, back in Port Angeles; it was good to see the pier and harbor after this long day. We found a motel just up the road from the waterfront, ordered a pizza and were happy to have a place to stay still for a while. What a day.