I’ll admit, I’m a bit of a planner. Especially when it comes to summer in the PNW. Any smart NW travel adventure junkie knows that every hour of the pristine summer days around these parts are to be cherished. Every. Hour.
This summer, I decided to try a new route. Minimal plans, more spontaneity. Let the weekends ride and see where I end up. Adventurous, huh?
Last weekend? Doe Bay Fest, that’s where I ended up.
What I want to write is that Doe Bay Festival is a flop. That it’s a pain in the ass to wait in the ferry lines. That it’s a disaster of a festival with bad music, overcrowded camping, no showers and horrible food. That the combination of sweaty hippy white person dreadlocks and an associated umbrella of BO over the island was enough to make even the grungiest Seattleite consider a shower. That you’d never in a million, million years want to step foot on wretched Orcas Island surrounded by evergreens, whales and open roads. That it RAINED. The WHOLE TIME.
I selfishly want to write this.
I secretly want to keep you away from the reality that unfolds at a place like Doe Bay.
But, I can’t. So, here’s reality…
I didn’t want to write it, but I did. The secret is out.
Grab your friends. Grab your lovers. Grab your tickets. Go big or go home.