Monday, September 12, 2011

Camano Island Camping

In pursuit of one more dose of summer, we made our way up to Camano Island. It is stunningly beautiful, like most all the islands up here, but it has the added benefit of no ferry ride to contend with. Now don't get me wrong, I love to ride the ferries as much as any Pacific Norwesterner, but during tourist season they can be a bear. We've waited in ferry lines that were four hours long! Especially with a toddler, this is not a happy prospect. Thus we love the "drive on in" quality of Camano.


When you first see Stanwood, your heart sinks a little. At least mine did because it's such the classic depressed agricultural town. I grew up near one in Oregon, and I do not care to revisit that culture. Perhaps I'm being overly judgmental here, but there it is. However, once you pass through Stanwood things change fast. The "island" itself is beautiful, but when you get to one of those viewpoints where you can look out over the water, it beautiful becomes stunning.

The state park is pretty much what you'd expect as far as amenities. The sites are drive-in, they have easy access to water, toilets, and garbage, and they all boast reasonable fire pits. None of the sites are right on the water, but many of them have very impressive views. One downside is that many of the best view sites are also right along the road that leads down to the boat ramp. Still, the traffic is not too bad, and most people are moving very slowly.

The baby did pretty well on this trip. She really enjoyed the company and the novelty of it all. She sat in her own fox-themed camp chair, ate normally forbidden snacks, and went hiking and strollering with the group. One of our favorite parts was going down to the rocky beach and throwing stones in the water. Some of us (not me) are very good at skipping the flat pebbles. The baby was just concentrating on trying to throw them far enough to actually have them land in the water. Her first few dozen "throws" really consisted of her dropping them next to her own feet. The image of her standing next to her daddy, in her little blue fish dress, throwing stones is one I will not soon forget.

In short, Camano Island is glorious, the campground is decent (but not so good if you really want to "get away" from people, noise, and cars), and I would certainly go back. How else can we practice our skipping?

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