American Camp on San Juan Island

When I visited San Juan Island back in March to check out the bike shop job, the weather was cold and rainy on Wednesday and Friday, the days I was biking and riding the ferry to and from the island. I spent a few hours those days visiting the bike shop, and some local coffee shops, and walking and window-shopping the business area close to the ferry landing. Luckily Thursday turned sunny and pleasant enough to take off for an afternoon bike ride to explore a bit more of the island. Bundled up in UnderArmour, fleece and wind-resistant pants, I took off on Cattle Point Road out to American Camp, about a six mile ride from town. It's a fairly easy ride with pretty good bike lanes most of the way, though there is one steep hill about a mile out of town, not far past the small airport, and rolling hills the rest of the way. Along the way you pass some small farms and woodlands, and quick glimpses of the bay through the trees.

The tourist information center at American Camp closes for the winter between Labor Day and Memorial Day. I rode past it through the parking lot to a dirt trail beyond, which led to the historic buildings left by General Pickett's army outpost. If you stay on the island for long there is no way to avoid learning about the Pig War and General Pickett, who is presently being discredited for fighting in the Civil War on the Confederate side. I'll skip the history lesson, except to say that Gen. Pickett was stationed in Bellingham before being sent to defend San Juan Island from the British. Some of the buildings at American Camp were built with material from dismantled Fort Bellingham buildings.

Past the camp buildings the dirt road leads to a hill-top prairie with views of San Juan Strait to the left and Haro Strait to the right. By the roadside I noticed a cluster of blooming yellow daffodils at the foot of a straggly lilac bush just showing its first spring leaves in the bright sun and raw wind. I saw quail, foxes and rabbits in the grass, and bald eagles skimming above the hillsides. The fresh wind, beautiful views and solitude of the place told me that this was where I wanted to spend my summer.

Cattle Point Road also leads to some of the few public beach access points on the island, at South Beach and Fourth of July Beach. (In my commitment to customer service, I rode out this way many times over the summer to make sure I was giving tourists accurate information and a realistic idea of the difficulty of the ride.)

Jakle's Lagoon and San Juan Strait - to the east (more or less)

Haro Strait to the southwest

I believe this may be a sheep-dip.
Or some sort of military emplacement.

Later in the summer I discovered a turn-off from Cattle Point Road to False Bay Road, a shady, winding downhill run through the woods. The road flattens out at False Bay, a shallow and sometimes pungent-smelling but pretty tide-flat; then it twists around a bit past some small farms, and connects to Beiler Hill Road. I was told that there had been some alpaca-raising enterprises here, until about ten years ago when the real estate market crashed and the ranchers couldn't support the operations any more. False Bay is about two miles from the house where I was staying and this loop became a favorite evening ride (or walk) for me over the summer, one that I often recommended to customers at the bike shop looking for a shorter, not too strenuous scenic ride.

Once I began work my days off were Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday so I had plenty of time to explore and get to know my way around a little. During my first week I rode beyond American Camp on Cattle Point Road to the Cattle Point Lighthouse. This area is part of the San Juan Island National Historical Park, which was in danger of being de-listed as a scenic and historic preserve over the summer. Roadside views are stunning on the bluff above the lighthouse, but the climb back up is probably the steepest stretch of road on the island. I rode my bike down to the lighthouse that first time, but it was fenced off because of construction so on later rides I just stopped to admire the views (and count the foxes) from the hilltop.