Nomadic Nurse Diaries

Dear Jurassic Park Trees and Sailboat Dreams,

This weekend, Stella and I packed up the van and headed to the far reaches of the Olympic Peninsula, that glorious northwest corner of Washington State. It took the entire day to get there—because when you live in a van, you have all the time in the world, right?—but let me tell you, every minute was worth it.

When I finally arrived, I found a secluded spot in the middle of what I can only describe as Washington’s version of Jurassic Park. Towering trees, moss draped over everything, and those prehistoric-looking ferns (you know, the ones with the long leaves and slits). Let’s just call them “Jurassic Park ferns.” I’m no botanist, but you get the picture. It was gorgeous. And Stella? Oh, she was in heaven. I felt safe enough to let her off leash, and we took some incredible walks through the forest, with the sound of the waves crashing through the trees in the background. Pure bliss.

After soaking in the forest, we found one of those great pull-off spots where you can park your van, walk onto the beach, and just be. It was perfect for a beachside brunch (yes, I packed my own—van life perks). And, good news for my fellow dog lovers: dogs are allowed on the beach! I checked, and Stella made full use of her freedom, running along the shore and barking at the waves.

We stayed long enough for lunch, too, because once you find a perfect spot like that, why rush? If I could live there forever, I would. Maybe on a sailboat ⛵️—something more permanent than the van? It’s funny, because even though I love the freedom of the van, there are moments when the idea of something more rooted, more secure, sounds pretty appealing. Especially in a place like this.

After our dreamy beach day, we headed to Neah Bay, located on the Makah Reservation. If you go (and you absolutely should), be sure to pay the entrance fee. It’s $20 for a year, and it’s totally worth it. You get access to some of the most insane beaches and forests I’ve ever seen. It’s like entering another world.

I’ll admit, I didn’t know about the fee when I first entered (rookie move), but a friendly local pointed me in the right direction. With that pass, you can explore so much beauty—cliffs, trails, secret beaches—it’s an outdoor enthusiast’s dream. And honestly, I hope they keep it as pristine as it is because, let’s be real, humans have a bad habit of ruining beautiful places in the name of “progress.” But I digress.

Bigginz: A Culinary Surprise

Of course, no trip is complete without food. I stopped at Bigginz, this hidden gem of a food trailer parked on the edge of someone’s residential property. If you’re a fan of good burgers and fries, this is the place. It’s no exaggeration when I say their burger easily landed in my top 10 (and trust me, I’ve had my fair share of burgers on this road). The cod fish and chips? Phenomenal. It was busy, even at 3:00 PM, but that only proves how good it is. Definitely worth the stop if you’re ever passing through.

Here’s where things get a little sentimental. As I was sitting there, belly full of burger and staring out at the water, I couldn’t help but think about a job opportunity I had in this area. I was once offered a staff position at the Clallam Bay prison, and man, part of me wishes I’d taken it. I’ve been searching for a place to call home my whole life, never quite feeling settled anywhere. Always hoping the next place will be the place, but it never really is.

Kalispell was close, and Clallam Bay gives me that same feeling—the feeling that maybe, just maybe, this could be the home I’ve been searching for. It’s hard to describe, but there’s this deep longing I’ve always had to find a place where I belong. A place that feels right. And while I haven’t found that exact place yet, places like this? They come pretty damn close.

Who knows, maybe I’ll find my way back here one day. Or maybe the road will lead me somewhere else entirely. But for now, I’m grateful for the peace, the beauty, and the feeling that, at least for this weekend, I found a little slice of home.

Until next time,
Your Wanderlust-Driven Nomadic Nurse