Our world’s natural beauty is always there, but we only notice it when we get our asses off the couch and go somewhere else, anywhere else. It helps if that somewhere else is Olympic National Park.
My fiancée Sheree and I are sitting on a handmade driftwood bench, watching the daytrippers wrap up for the evening at Lake Crescent within the park. Just behind us is our lodging, the cozy, 1916-built Lake Crescent Lodge. Erected the same year Washington State passed its prohibition laws, this hotel (now on the National Register of Historic Places) also hosted FDR in 1937. He was apparently so inspired by this same view—minus the paddleboarder, floatie, and can of beer—that he gave the region national park status the following year.
Maybe he was also slinging back some suds that night. It’s no accident that Rainier Beer tastes particularly zen-inducing when drunk overlooking the lake. It could be the view, or it could be because it’s our first trip together post-engagement, or it could be any number of factors that elevate this classic Pacific Northwest Lager in my brain. Either way, the moment sears itself into my synapses. The right beer, at the right place, at the right time.
