Far to the northwest, the peninsula ends at Cape Flattery on Makah land at Neah Bay — outside the park, so a park pass won't work; a Makah recreation permit runs about twenty dollars. Along the park's wild northwest coast lies Ozette, a Makah whaling village buried by a mudslide roughly five centuries ago and exposed again by a 1969 to 1970 storm, then excavated in a Makah-led dig. The collection is kept by the Makah at their museum in Neah Bay; the protected site itself is not a drive-up stop.
Look northwest, off past the timber, toward the far corner of the map. You're not driving out there today — that country runs another world away, to where the whole peninsula finally ends at Cape Flattery, the northwesternmost point of the lower forty-eight. But it's worth knowing about, because tucked along that wild, roadless coast inside the park is one place that carries a truly extraordinary story, and I don't want you to miss it just because the road doesn't go there. First, a practical word if the far northwest ever pulls you back this way. Cape Flattery and the town of Neah Bay sit on sovereign Makah land, and that's outside the national park — so your park pass won't get you in. Instead you buy a Makah recreation permit, about twenty dollars, sold right in town, and it's well worth it for the lighthouse view and the trail out to the cape. Keep that in your back pocket for another trip. What I do want you to hear right now is the story of a Makah village called Ozette — a place the sea itself buried, and then, centuries later, gave back. It's one of the most remarkable things on this entire coast, and it belongs to the Makah, who keep it alive to this day. Stay where you are, let the road roll easy, and Ranger Boone Merrick will tell you about the village the sea kept.
Photo: Konrad Roeder (Kgrr) · CC BY 3.0
