I'm rather conflicted about this. On one hand, this unusual bed & breakfast more than deserves a mention. On the other, I want to keep the awesome place to myself. Assuming that this site won't get too much traffic in the future (which it doesn't as of now), I'll share the information.

Due to a small number of inns and motels, it can be difficult to find a place to stay on Washington's verdant Olympic Peninsula. The Hoh Humm Ranch, the place that has won my profound affection, is just a wonderful option in such a case. Perhaps due to its low profile as a ranch house that rents out rooms and feeds you in the morning, the Hoh Humm tends to have an opening when other places are completely booked. (This was the case during our trip.) But the ease of reservation isn't really the charm of the Hoh Humm Ranch, which is located on 101 between the Ruby Beach and the Hoh Rain Forest.

The true charm is the fact that it's a real, working ranch house, run by an elderly couple of a former zoologist and former engineer. Before going to the ranch, Patrick warned me that it'd feel like we're invading someone's private place, like we're staying in a room that used to belong to one of the old couple's grown children (which probably is the case). And it did.

A ridge-backed black dog greeted us as we got out of our car. Upon opening the front door, I stumbled upon an old woman on a recliner in front of a TV (who turned out to be one of the two owners, Mary). There were animals everywhere in the large, open space that included the spacious kitchen, communal dining table with a dozen chairs, two sitting areas and a computer desk. Two cats slept on the couches, while a large, spotted dog raised its head to examine the new visitors (us). A wood stove emitted welcoming heat in the middle of the room. Mary's husband, Bob, in the traditional ranch outfit of a denim overall and a checkered shirt, took us up the stairs to our room.

The room was nothing to write home about, but it opened to a porch that stretched to the full length of the house. From the porch, the view was stunning. The ranch house stood on a cliff, and below, their 200-acre pasture extended to the west, surrounded by hills of various green hues. Cows strolled in a distant field. Barn swallows crisscrossed the sky and delved into their muddy nests on the wall of our room.

One possible drawback of the Hoh Humm is that it's not in a town, and thus lacks restaurants nearby. This wasn't a problem for us, for we swiftly fell asleep after taking a shower at around 6:30. It wouldn't, however, have been too big of a problem even if we hadn't: the Hoh Humm is about 20 miles from the town of Forks, which has a few decent places to eat.

The true fun of staying in a ranch house began the next morning. After a full twelve hours of sleep, we felt reinvigorated enough to explore the pasture, which the owners had welcome us to do so when we arrived. The grass was pretty dewy, so we put on our hiking boots. The ex-zoologist Mary was cooking our breakfast when we came down the stairs. We stole a cup of coffee from the coffee maker, chatted with her a little (while inhaling the stomach-squeezing aroma of sausages), and got out. The black ridge back from the previous day followed us.

The meadow was beautiful with the morning sun illuminating the wet grass from a low angle. And it was chock full of animals: a family of gray goose (with the father quacking proudly every once in a while, with his meaty tongue sticking out of his mouth in a slightly disturbing manner) marched by the fence, while a large herd of sheep intensely gazed at the suspicious intruders (us) from inside their pen nearby. A mallard duck couple took their downy goslings to a swim on a pond.

A little further afield, we could see the morning mist rising among the trees around the estate. Nearly black-and-white in silhouette, the trees looked as if they were in a Japanese sumie painting. The air was absolutely fresh after a midnight rain that had washed away what little contaminant in the air, and the slight chill was just delightful. Patrick kept an eye on his watch, lest we miss out on the communal, all-you-can-eat breakfast. We snapped a few shots of the cows in the farthest field, and made our way back.

The breakfast was on the table when we came back into the house. The twelve-seater table had literary no open space, cluttered with steaming-hot goodies like homemade hash browns, sausages, cornbread, homemade "freezer" jam and a large Dutch baby. (There was also a hot oat meal, but I ignored it.) We piled our plates with these, poured some orange juice in our glasses, sat down and ate. It was all very good in a very homey way, but the best thing was the fluffy Dutch baby with a spoonful of raspberry jam poured on top. The slight saltiness of the Dutch baby went great with the sweet-sour jam, which, the former zoologist wife told us, was made by freezing the fruits without ever cooking them. (I have to try this trick sometime--the jam had a freshness that's impossible to achieve with the traditional simmer-down method.) There was a large number of people, both guests and the owners' family, and the food quickly disappeared. Good thing we came back on time.

After breakfast, we went out again to see the Japanese "shika" deer that they keep in a pen. I have no idea where they got the idea of keeping a herd of exotic deer, but then again, Mary was a zoologist, so she should know. (She was the first female student of zoology in the university she attended--she had to fight her way for her dream job, for the then-male-dominated industry simply rejected female applicants.) Mary gave me two hot dog buns to feed the deer with. Bob said that the deer "will squeak at ya," which indeed they did. Remembering my school trip to deer-filled Nara Park fifteen years ago, I fed chunks of the bread to the two eager deer. Their warm, moist lips enveloping my fingers felt strangely relaxing. (And their gentle eyes! Oh, boy, they were very cute.)

A magnificently colorful chicken commanded a sweeping view of the meadow below, as we headed out for the third day of our trip. The Hoh Humm Ranch isn't an agriturismo inn, for they don't feed you with the produce and dairy grown on the premise, but it does have the wonderfully relaxing and refreshing feel of one. Everything is quite low-key, and you get to experience the fun side of the ranch life (animals, beautiful scenery, tasty home-cooked food) without the rough & tough part of it (cleaning the barn, stacking up the infinite 50-pound bundles of hay, having to tend the animals 365 days a year, etc.). For $45 a room, I think it's an awesome deal.

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Hoh Humm Ranch
171763 Highway 101, Forks, WA
360.374.5337