I was exhausted after my hike yesterday, and i decided to drive down from the mountain but not too far. I went down the Nooksack river (hahhaa) and across then back up a forest road, but the road was closed after a while and i ended up going back to a small pull off. I couldn’t get to any of my three internet connections due to the steep valley and dense forest. Since the road was closed there were only a few cars and trucks past me and all of them left pretty early. I conked out at around 8pm but didn’t sleep well and woke a lot. My legs were sore.
I woke early and headed further downriver two towns away and found internet, so i worked and had breakfast. Later i went west out of the mountains, north to nearly the Canadian border, the west to Blaine Marine Park, where i spent the rest of the workday on the coast, and in view of Canada. I realized I could in fact go to Canada and realized that would be my sixth trip. I’m still at five though… Seventh grade French class trip to Montreal and Ottawa, winter in Saskatoon, summer drive from Saskatoon to Inuvik on the north coast-ish, where the sun didn’t set, a weekend in Montreal with my ex, and a work trip to Vancouver. I like Canada, but I’m going to need to go south soon and i hadn’t practiced saying soory.
I drove down Interstate 5 to a car wash that looked big enough, and indeed it was. I could stand on top of the rv, and did, washing parts that hadn’t ever been cleaned as long as I’ve owned it. I definitely need to do a bit more of that, as well as really scrub the dead bug collection, but it’s a billion times cleaner now. I unfortunately can no longer do the world’s most detailed DNA study of a six foot by nine foot by three thousand mile four dimensional tubular cross section of air, and the animals that formerly inhabited it.
I drove down to Coupeville (without the de) and through the very orderly construction of Fort Casey, clearly built during a very civilized time in the army’s history, aside from the killing part, to the ferry port. I had no reservation so despite making it just in time to see the six PM arrive, I had to wait for the next one at 7:30. I’m just happy i didn’t have to wait for the 9:10. As the 7:30 arrived a motorcyclist arrived on a muddy dirt bike with an oversized tank and camping gear stuffed in a milk crate strapped to the back. She hopped off hooting in happiness for having made it, and danced around from excitement and cold, pulling off her helmet to reveal the shaved sides of her head and butt length braid, and putting on her jacket to staunch the chill. I was, briefly, in love.
During the wait between ferries i video chatted with some friends regarding preparations for Burning Man, and watched the eagles and fellow ferry queuers.
The ride to Port Townsend was swift and i spent it all on the third deck bow of the big vessel, exposed to chilly winds in my T-shirt, shorts and sandals. The temperature had dropped from the heat of the day, but i didn’t don the sweater i threw in my backpack. I sympathized with the cute motorcyclist who was previously riding even faster than this shared journey. I also didn’t end up using the binoculars i brought, since i saw no signs of any whales. The safety cable at the bow whistled a drone through nearly all of the trip.
On leaving the ferry everyone else was turning left, but an arrow to the right said Historic Downtown, and Basho told me to turn right. I circled through what was indeed a lovely 1800s port town. It clearly had old shipping wealth and new wine bar, art gallery and coffee house wealth, and i spent a while taking pictures of it all in the light of the fading sun.
I then went to a parking spot suggested by my app, at a trailhead in a quiet neighborhood, and it seems a good choice. Quiet with a well maintained portapotty and with good cell service. I fired up the generator for a few minutes to heat a grocery store enchilada in the microwave and cracked a beer. Then i wrote stuff and now then is now, so i will say goodnight for now.
H
Hoyle talks about things