The Strait Shooter: Post-Election Round-Up
Results Are In, Bureaucrats Are Confused: Time to Find Someone to Blame
Election Officials Declare “Overwhelming Voter Confidence”
Discovers Half the Ballots Were Left Blank Out of Confusion
Sequim City Council Celebrates Voter Turnout
Schedules Emergency Meeting to Undo Election Results
County Declares Success After Rebranding Budget Shortfall
Now Known as “Community Character Growth Opportunity”
County Auditor Introduces New Slogan
“Clallam County — Where Every Vote Counts, Eventually. “
Clallam County’s Bold New Tourism Strategy: Bribery, Deer, and Desperation
By The Strait Shooter Staff
PORT ANGELES — Facing yet another year of dwindling visitor numbers and “meh” Yelp reviews, the Clallam County Tourism Board has unveiled a new, “innovative” campaign to recruit tourists — by any means necessary.
“People keep driving right through us on their way to somewhere better,” said Tourism Director Kyle Pruett, clutching a map of the peninsula like it owed him money. “So we’re done pretending to be classy. We’re going full circus.”
The new campaign, titled “Clallam County: Come See What’s Left,” promises visitors “an authentic, confusing, occasionally functioning experience of coastal Washington.”
A Bold Vision for Mediocrity
The plan includes a series of destination events designed to capitalize on the county’s unique blend of scenic beauty and mild dysfunction.
Among the highlights:
• The Port Angeles Bathroom Quest — a scavenger hunt where tourists attempt to find a public restroom before their will to live expires.
• Sequim Roundabout Olympics — competitive driving events to see who can navigate all seven roundabouts without crying, reversing, or fleeing to Carlsborg.
• The Deer Whisperer Retreat, where guests commune with Sequim’s semi-domesticated deer herd and learn how to file small claims for property damage.
• And the Self-Guided Pothole Safari, a daring off-road adventure that doubles as an infrastructure audit.
“We realized we can’t fix the roads,” said County Engineer Pat Rolands, “but we can sell tickets to them.”
Rebranding Through Chaos
Marketing materials promise “unforgettable authenticity” — which is code for “we gave up on consistency.”
Visitors will be greeted with new slogans printed on brochures, bumper stickers, and, possibly, bandages:
• “Clallam County: Where Nothing Happens Slowly.”
• “Come for the View, Stay Because the Bridge Is Out.”
• “You’ll Leave Refreshed… or Just Leave.”
Even Sequim got a rebrand: “The Palm Springs of the Pacific Northwest — If Palm Springs Had 58 Days of Sunshine and Lavender.”
Economic Revitalization, Sort Of
The new tourism plan aims to “diversify the county’s economy” by leaning into its quirks.
The Homeless Encampment Heritage Trail will offer interpretive plaques explaining local government inaction.
Meanwhile, the Tiny Home Time Share Program invites tourists to experience “authentic Clallam living” — a 98-square-foot shed behind a short-term rental with intermittent Wi-Fi and a realistic tax bill.
“It’s all about immersion,” said Councilmember Rob Timmons, who once described the tourism budget as “a wish and a prayer with lavender frosting.” “People want real experiences, and nothing’s more real than the sound of a heat pump failing at 2 a.m.”
A Community United (Sort Of)
Locals are divided on the campaign. Some see it as the perfect satire of county life; others worry it’s “too accurate.”
“This is either genius or the end,” said Forks resident Nancy Cole, staring at a flyer that read, ‘Tour de Crank: The Ultimate E-Bike Survival Challenge.’ “But at least it’s honest. God knows we’ve tried fake optimism.”
The Final Pitch
When asked what sets Clallam County apart from other coastal destinations, Director Pruett didn’t hesitate.
“Most counties have tourism departments,” he said. “We have a cry for help.”
Still, the board remains optimistic.
“If we can’t attract people with our beaches, trails, or hospitality,” Pruett said, “we’ll attract them with confusion. That’s our brand now — intentional bewilderment.”
As he spoke, a deer wandered across the intersection outside, causing a three-car pileup and a photo op.
“See?” he said, smiling faintly. “You can’t buy that kind of authenticity.”
Editor’s Note:
The Strait Shooter supports local tourism — we just wish it came with a map, a plan, and maybe one working bathroom.
Sequim Man Claims He “Voted with His Wallet”
County Treasurer Confirms They’re Keeping It
Clallam County Attempts to Boost Future Voter Turnout
Announces “Participation Trophies for Democracy”
Port Angeles Officials Celebrate Completion of New Roundabout
Immediately Plans for a Detour Around It
New Clallam County Tourism Campaign
“Come for the Mountains, Stay Because Your Car Broke Down”
Clallam County Announces “Olympic Game Farm–Style Housing Project” to Address Homelessness: “Visitors Can Drive Through Slowly and Observe”
By The Strait Shooter Staff
PORT ANGELES — In a move officials are calling “a bold blend of compassion and tourism,” Clallam County announced plans this week for a new housing initiative modeled after the Olympic Game Farm, where visitors will be able to drive through slowly and observe residents “in their natural environment.”
The proposal, titled the Olympic Community Habitat, aims to “provide secure, semi-wild accommodations for unhoused citizens while stimulating local tourism dollars,” according to county documents.
“People love feeding bread to bison,” said Deputy County Planner Shelly Drew, “so we thought, why not apply that same interactive experience to social outreach?”
Under the plan, the fenced 80-acre “community habitat” would feature tiny homes, tents, and converted RVs arranged along a scenic one-way gravel road. Visitors would pay a small entrance fee and be asked to keep windows rolled up “for everyone’s safety.”
Each section would represent a “different behavioral ecosystem,” including:
• The Morning Coffee Zone, where residents wake up and trade cigarettes for instant oatmeal;
• The Urban Survival Enclosure, featuring shopping carts, tarps, and Bluetooth speakers powered by portable solar panels;
• And the Rehabilitation Meadow, where social workers occasionally appear in golf carts to distribute pamphlets and optimism.
County Commissioner Rob Timmons defended the plan, calling it “a creative balance between human dignity and economic opportunity.”
“People always complain they don’t understand the homeless situation,” Timmons said. “Well, now they can drive right through it. Slowly. With narration.”
Officials confirmed that an optional “bread donation” add-on will allow visitors to toss sealed snack packs or hand sanitizer wipes out their windows — “as long as they don’t try to pet anyone.”
Critics, however, have expressed concern.
“This is insane,” said local advocate Mary Johansen. “They’re literally turning poverty into a safari.”
But county tourism officials remain enthusiastic. “This could put Clallam County on the map,” said Visit the Peninsula Director Kyle Pruett. “Imagine the billboards: ‘See the Olympic Peninsula — and its People — Up Close!’”
The proposal still needs to pass environmental review and public comment, though insiders say it’s already gaining momentum thanks to its “self-funding” model.
Each visitor ticket will include a printed disclaimer reading: “Do not honk, feed, or provoke the residents. They are part of a long-term re-socialization experiment. Also, please stay in your vehicle — the county assumes no responsibility for stolen catalytic converters.”
The project’s opening date is tentatively scheduled for next summer, pending installation of the automated gate and coin-operated donation feeder.
Editor’s Note:
The Strait Shooter attempted to contact the Olympic Game Farm for comment, but staff only replied, “Please don’t feed the humans.”
Port Angeles Residents Demand Recount
After Discovering New Tax Levy Passed by Three People and a Therapy Dog
County Leaders Assess Low Voter Turnout
Place the Blame on People Being Distracted by That One Sunny Day in November
Sequim Launches “Adopt-a-RV” Program
Leaders Want to Beautify Parking Lots and Strengthen Sense of Community
Public Works Celebrates Efficiency Milestone
18 Months Without a Single On-Time Project
The Olympic Discovery Trail: Where Courtesy Goes to Die
By The Strait Shooter Staff
CLALLAM COUNTY — Stretching from Port Townsend to La Push, the Olympic Discovery Trail was meant to be a crown jewel of recreation — a peaceful ribbon of asphalt uniting cyclists, walkers, joggers, and the occasional confused horse. Instead, it’s become a 130-mile proving ground for entitlement, impatience, and the slow erosion of public decency.
The Grumpy Brigade
Every morning, retirees from Sequim to Port Angeles descend upon the trail like clockwork, armed with trekking poles, orthopedic shoes, and an unspoken vendetta against joy. They walk four abreast, discussing HOA drama and the price of eggs, and respond to “on your left!” the same way most people react to a hornet.
“They fly by like we’re in their way,” complained lifelong Sequim resident and daily walker Sharon Price, age 76. “It’s our trail. We were here first — before helmets were even a thing.”
Her walking partner, Gerald, nodded solemnly. “Last week some spandex rocket almost clipped my knee. I told him to slow down and he said, ‘It’s a trail, not a mall, grandpa.’ So I hit him with my walking stick. Lightly.”
The Lycra Elite
Then there are the cyclists — sleek, shiny, and utterly convinced they’re in the Tour de France despite being between a retirement home and a lavender farm.
“Trail etiquette doesn’t apply to athletes,” said one local cyclist who asked to remain anonymous but was clearly named “Chad.” “If you’re not averaging 22 mph, you’re not training — you’re just in the way.”
Chad went on to complain about “trail clutter,” which he defined as “anyone walking, breathing, or not wearing $300 sunglasses.”
On weekends, groups of cyclists known as “pelotons” take over entire sections of the trail, shouting motivational phrases like “push through the pain” and “don’t hit the stroller.” Locals have started referring to them as “Lycra Locusts” for their ability to appear suddenly, swarm, and vanish — leaving behind nothing but a faint smell of electrolytes and superiority.
The Transient Problem
As if that weren’t enough, certain stretches of the trail have taken on a more… apocalyptic vibe. Overgrown areas near Port Angeles and Morse Creek have become unofficial encampments, complete with tents, shopping carts, and an occasional “trail guardian” who demands tolls in the form of cigarettes or loose change.
“I was walking my dog and someone tried to sell me a tire iron,” said one resident. “It might have even been my tire iron. Hard to say.”
Local authorities continue to promise “increased patrols,” but so far the only thing multiplying faster than encampments are the signs warning trail users to “be aware of surroundings.”
The Great Trail Divide
The Olympic Discovery Trail was supposed to bring people together. Instead, it’s created a Cold War of cardio. Walkers glare at cyclists. Cyclists sneer at walkers. Everyone avoids the sketchy parts after 3 p.m.
“It’s the only place I’ve ever seen someone in full spandex arguing with a man in pajama pants over right-of-way,” said one observer. “And the guy in pajama pants won.”
Solutions in Motion
Trail committees have proposed a variety of solutions — adding more signage, splitting lanes, or hosting “community trail days” to rebuild trust. Unfortunately, most of these meetings devolve into shouting matches about who’s more entitled to the trail: tax-paying seniors, self-righteous cyclists, or people who think “camping” means squatting indefinitely.
Until then, the Olympic Discovery Trail remains what it’s always been — a scenic, chaotic slice of Clallam County life.
A Path Through Madness
It’s beautiful, it’s frustrating, and it’s somehow both too crowded and too empty at once. The trail offers breathtaking views, occasional danger, and the rare opportunity to see a 78-year-old woman scold a man in carbon-fiber bike shorts for “thinking he’s Lance Armstrong.”
As one local summarized while dodging both a dog leash and a speeding Trek: “It’s not the Olympic Discovery Trail anymore. It’s the Olympic Dysfunction Trail.”
New Ballot Drop Box Installed Directly in Front of Pothole
A Symbol of Civic Engagement
Port Angeles Election Night Watch Party Causes Civic Disharmony
Ends in Argument Over Whose Wi-Fi is Slower
Clallam County Sheriff’s Office Unveils New Policy
“Catch, Release, and Compliment”
City Council Votes For a New Study
Plans to Study Why It Keeps Voting to Study Things
The Culinary Guessing Game: Dining Out on the Olympic Peninsula
By The Strait Shooter Staff
SEQUIM & PORT ANGELES — It’s 5:15 p.m. on a Thursday, and you’re hungry. You drive into town, stomach growling, hoping to enjoy a hot meal. But as you pull up to your favorite local restaurant — lights off, chairs on tables, door locked — a small handwritten sign informs you:
“Closed today. Or maybe not. Depends on Dave.”
Welcome to dining on the Olympic Peninsula, where every restaurant’s operating hours are a cosmic mystery, a Sudoku puzzle for your stomach, and a spiritual test of patience.
“We’re Open… Sometimes”
Locals have stopped asking “what’s good to eat around here” and started asking “what’s actually open.”
One Sequim resident summed it up bluntly: “I’ve been trying to eat at the same restaurant for three weeks. Every time I go, the sign says something new. ‘Closed for deep cleaning.’ ‘Staff retreat.’ ‘Out of halibut, out of hope.’”
Many restaurants appear to use a rotating schedule inspired by the lunar cycle. Mondays are closed. Tuesdays are “soft open.” Wednesdays are “chef’s day off.” Thursdays they serve lunch but not dinner. Fridays they’re open until 7 p.m., unless someone’s cousin is getting married.
Even Google Maps has given up trying to track them, with one listing showing: Hours: Maybe. Call first.
The Staff Shortage Excuse
Restaurant owners point to a labor shortage — and to be fair, it’s real. But many diners suspect the trend has evolved into something deeper — a philosophical stance.
“It’s not that they don’t have staff,” said Port Angeles local Greg Tate. “It’s that they’ve achieved enlightenment. They’ve realized that being open five days a week just isn’t spiritually sustainable.”
A Menu of Mystery
It’s not just hours — it’s menus, too. One Port Angeles café proudly advertises “Breakfast Served All Day” yet closes at 11:30 a.m. sharp. Another spot in Sequim offers “Dinner Specials” but opens at noon and shuts down at 3.
Then there’s the restaurant that closes for two hours mid-afternoon “to reset the vibe.”
Locals have adapted, forming Facebook groups to warn each other of “false openings.” Posts read like weather reports:
“Coyote Café appears open but staff looks stressed — proceed with caution.”
“Toga’s was open for lunch today! I repeat, Toga’s is OPEN!”
“Confirmed sighting: Black Bear Diner lights are on. Could be a decoy.”
The Great Restaurant Hunt
Trying to plan dinner in Clallam County has become a sport. Locals describe it like a safari — a thrilling pursuit of rare prey.
“Last Friday I managed to find a place that was open, had seating, and wasn’t out of food,” said Sequim resident Mary Jacobs. “I felt like I’d won the lottery.”
She paused, then added, “They closed early right after I paid.”
The Twilight Zone of Dining
Even tourists have noticed. “I thought the town was quaint,” said one visitor from Oregon. “Then I realized it’s just closed.”
The confusion has reached such levels that some residents now carry backup granola bars in their glove compartments — a local tradition known as “Plan Blyn.”
The Strait Shooter Awards: The Reliable Few
In fairness, there are a few reliable spots — the diners that open at 6 a.m. sharp, the taco truck that braves every storm, the chain restaurant that never wavers. They’ve become legends.
Locals speak of them with reverence: “They’re always open,” said one man, misty-eyed. “Even on Tuesdays.”
Final Thoughts
Whether it’s burnout, labor shortages, or just creative interpretation of “business hours,” the peninsula’s dining scene has become an unpredictable adventure. You don’t make dinner reservations anymore — you make bets.
So next time you’re hungry, remember the local motto: “If it’s open, eat. Don’t ask questions. Don’t wait for tomorrow.”
Because tomorrow, that “Open” sign will probably say “Closed for recalibration.”
Sequim Residents Demand Transparency
City Responds with 40-Page PowerPoint About “Vision Statements”
County Announces Innovative Housing Plan
Permit Applications Will be Stacked Into an Affordable Tower
Local Man Shocked to Discover the Truth Behind “Community Engagement”
It Just Means Filling Out Another Survey
Local Poll Worker Retires After 42 Years
Says She’ll Miss the Smell of Wet Ballots and Broken Promises
Letter to the Editor
Subject: Downtown Sequim’s Halloween Parade of Questionable Decisions
Dear Strait Shooter,
I just wanted to take a moment to applaud everyone who showed up for the downtown Sequim Halloween event this year. It’s not often you see that many adults in costume voluntarily wandering around in broad daylight—it was like Comic-Con meets Costco samples.
A few highlights deserve mention. First off, whoever came dressed in the orange Department of Corrections jumpsuit—was that a costume, or just an early release program? Either way, bold move. The realism was unsettling enough that a few kids clutched their parents’ hands tighter when you reached for candy.
Then there was “Scuba Steve,” the crossing guard who truly committed to public safety and aquatic adventure. I’m not sure if it was the goggles fogging up or the enthusiasm, but you made guiding traffic look like a deep-sea mission. Bravo.
Best adult costume, hands down, goes to the guy wearing the Westside Pizza boxes. That man didn’t just show up—he delivered. I hope the city gave him a slice of appreciation, or at least free garlic knots.
Finally, the Home Alone crew stole the show for best group theme. You could practically hear “Keep the change, ya filthy animal” echoing through the streets. If next year someone shows up as the burglars hanging from a ladder, it’ll officially be a Sequim classic.
In short, Sequim proved once again that our community spirit is alive, well, and occasionally wearing handcuffs for decorative purposes.
Sincerely,
A Concerned Spectator with Too Much Free Candy
Editor’s Note:
Scuba Steve, Westside Pizza Box Man, and Home Alone Crew, your No-Prizes for best Halloween costumes are available at that one building with the ‘For Lease’ sign in downtown Sequim, courtesy of the Strait Shooter Staff.
Port Angeles:
City Officials Celebrate Downtown Revitalization by Paving Over Remaining Parking Spots
The city says the move “encourages walkability,” though residents note they’ll be walking from Sequim. Officials assure drivers more parking will open up “as soon as the new paid lot study is funded.”
Sequim:
Lavender Farmers Protest Rising Costs by Threatening to Go Chamomile
Tensions are brewing in the valley as farmers claim they can’t compete with imported essential oils. The city has promised to “sniff out solutions” by next summer’s festival.
Forks:
Forks Declares Itself “Twilight-Free Zone” After 15th Vampire-Themed Gift Shop Closes
Mayor says the town is “ready to move on” and rebrand around its true identity — logging, drizzle, and a strong sense of mild disappointment.
Clallam Bay:
New County Tourism Campaign Invites Visitors to “Come for the Inmates, Stay for the Scenery”
Locals say it’s an honest slogan for once. Early reviews from tourists describe the new prison-overlook viewpoint as “both scenic and deeply unsettling.”
Joyce:
Residents Report Increased UFO Sightings, Later Realize It’s Just Flashlights from the Power Outage Again
The Joyce General Store briefly served as Mission Control until the extension cords ran out. PUD has since confirmed “alien interference unlikely, but not impossible.”
Neah Bay:
Tribal Leaders Propose Harpooning Bureaucracy After State Agencies Delay Fishing Permits Until 2027
Officials from Olympia say they “understand the frustration” and will form a committee to study it — by 2028.
Blyn:
7 Cedars Casino Introduces New Game: “Guess When the Road Construction Will End”
Winners receive a complimentary coffee and a sense of false hope. Highway 101 drivers remain optimistic that pavement may return “any fiscal year now.”
Carlsborg:
Carlsborg Declares Independence After Sequim Tries to Annex Its Single Stoplight
Locals voted unanimously to secede, promising to maintain their sovereignty and the world’s most confusing intersection. Sequim officials plan to counter by annexing the ampm.
Agnew:
Agnew Residents Announce Plan to Reopen Store — Once Someone Figures Out Who Actually Lives There
The community remains divided over whether Agnew is still a town, a concept, or a shared delusion maintained by a few road signs.
Beaver:
Beaver Launches New Town Motto: “We’re Not a Gas Station, But Thanks for Asking”
After years of confusion from lost tourists, residents decided it was time for honesty. The new slogan will be displayed on a handmade plywood sign, assuming the paint dries before the next rain.
Turn the homelss encampment into an Olympic Farm experience, brilliant. We can throw boof kits to the inhabitants.
CLALLAM COUNTY VOTERS CELEBRATE OVERWHELMING VICTORY FOR PORT COMMISSIONER
Now Known as the Gold Medal Of Executive Swan Dives
I had to add that. The timing could not have been better. Being exposed (full monty style) hours before the worlds longest ballot count (that poor guy must be exhausted) was a great morning to
toast the Commissioners with a big cup of shut the f up.
Absolutely love your articles. The satire is spot on (I really like where you fit in the potholes) I have to read them 2 times to catch it all. Thank you SS! ; )