Spoiler alert!

So we haven’t written in awhile.

We did not change our names to Winnebago and Winston, nor become woodland elves frolicking in the mist with snail-driven carriages. We did not craft a raft and set sail on Pacific currents in search of El Nino. Become beat poets under a bridge in SF. Tarry south on dune buggies through New Mexico and learn a new language. Buy chaps and join the rodeo. Turn into gnomes on a front lawn in South Carolina.

No. We made it home after swooping all across this truly beautiful country. Fifty-five days. Thirty-some states. Without killing each other or loss of limbs. Maybe a bit of sanity flew out an open window on occasion. Experiencing some of the most amazing places and sights and people with memories for our lifetime.

And after a couple months at home, getting our land legs back, adapting and changing our lives to new directions, we are so excited to let you know that we’ve decided this will be a forever thing. We are engaged and very happy campers (now indoors)!

We hope to pick up our posts from where we left off as we still have so many pictures and stories to share. Gradually. We want to thank again everyone who shared his/her wonderful selves, space, and advice with us on this journey, making it an incredibly special experience… thank you! 

What else memorable in Portland?
The Japanese Gardens up on the hillside park were peaceful and complex and beautiful. So much to see in not that big a place, we took a great guided tour through the five gardens, the Strolling Pond probably being my favorite, all koi and iris-filled, with waterfalls and zigzagging pathways to keep the evil spirits from following me any further on my journey; closely followed by the mossy fairy dust Natural Garden as my second favorite.
We tried some of the food trucks, compelled because there were so many truck villages all around the city. Eh.
Briefly visited the Museum of Contemporary Craft; brief because it was pretty small and in the echoing rooms with several visitors my Mom’s artistic commentary had us crying with laughter, drawing confused looks from the security guard who seemed unable to decide whether or not he should ask us to leave. Giggling fits disturbing the peace of pottery and sculpture, all a bit too serious for our liking at the moment.
Our last night we had drinks at a dive bar and an Italian dinner send off with the family, where I inherited my Mother’s pesto dish, correctly guessing that the tubular pasta resembled worms in my mother’s creative mind. Mom and John stayed in a cute section of town with views of the many bridges over the Willamette River that, if we had more time, would have been fun to explore (along with Mt. Hood and local waterfalls).
Oh, Portland, cheer up! Sorry if we were hard on you. Maybe next time.
Zoom Info
What else memorable in Portland?
The Japanese Gardens up on the hillside park were peaceful and complex and beautiful. So much to see in not that big a place, we took a great guided tour through the five gardens, the Strolling Pond probably being my favorite, all koi and iris-filled, with waterfalls and zigzagging pathways to keep the evil spirits from following me any further on my journey; closely followed by the mossy fairy dust Natural Garden as my second favorite.
We tried some of the food trucks, compelled because there were so many truck villages all around the city. Eh.
Briefly visited the Museum of Contemporary Craft; brief because it was pretty small and in the echoing rooms with several visitors my Mom’s artistic commentary had us crying with laughter, drawing confused looks from the security guard who seemed unable to decide whether or not he should ask us to leave. Giggling fits disturbing the peace of pottery and sculpture, all a bit too serious for our liking at the moment.
Our last night we had drinks at a dive bar and an Italian dinner send off with the family, where I inherited my Mother’s pesto dish, correctly guessing that the tubular pasta resembled worms in my mother’s creative mind. Mom and John stayed in a cute section of town with views of the many bridges over the Willamette River that, if we had more time, would have been fun to explore (along with Mt. Hood and local waterfalls).
Oh, Portland, cheer up! Sorry if we were hard on you. Maybe next time.
Zoom Info
What else memorable in Portland?
The Japanese Gardens up on the hillside park were peaceful and complex and beautiful. So much to see in not that big a place, we took a great guided tour through the five gardens, the Strolling Pond probably being my favorite, all koi and iris-filled, with waterfalls and zigzagging pathways to keep the evil spirits from following me any further on my journey; closely followed by the mossy fairy dust Natural Garden as my second favorite.
We tried some of the food trucks, compelled because there were so many truck villages all around the city. Eh.
Briefly visited the Museum of Contemporary Craft; brief because it was pretty small and in the echoing rooms with several visitors my Mom’s artistic commentary had us crying with laughter, drawing confused looks from the security guard who seemed unable to decide whether or not he should ask us to leave. Giggling fits disturbing the peace of pottery and sculpture, all a bit too serious for our liking at the moment.
Our last night we had drinks at a dive bar and an Italian dinner send off with the family, where I inherited my Mother’s pesto dish, correctly guessing that the tubular pasta resembled worms in my mother’s creative mind. Mom and John stayed in a cute section of town with views of the many bridges over the Willamette River that, if we had more time, would have been fun to explore (along with Mt. Hood and local waterfalls).
Oh, Portland, cheer up! Sorry if we were hard on you. Maybe next time.
Zoom Info
What else memorable in Portland?
The Japanese Gardens up on the hillside park were peaceful and complex and beautiful. So much to see in not that big a place, we took a great guided tour through the five gardens, the Strolling Pond probably being my favorite, all koi and iris-filled, with waterfalls and zigzagging pathways to keep the evil spirits from following me any further on my journey; closely followed by the mossy fairy dust Natural Garden as my second favorite.
We tried some of the food trucks, compelled because there were so many truck villages all around the city. Eh.
Briefly visited the Museum of Contemporary Craft; brief because it was pretty small and in the echoing rooms with several visitors my Mom’s artistic commentary had us crying with laughter, drawing confused looks from the security guard who seemed unable to decide whether or not he should ask us to leave. Giggling fits disturbing the peace of pottery and sculpture, all a bit too serious for our liking at the moment.
Our last night we had drinks at a dive bar and an Italian dinner send off with the family, where I inherited my Mother’s pesto dish, correctly guessing that the tubular pasta resembled worms in my mother’s creative mind. Mom and John stayed in a cute section of town with views of the many bridges over the Willamette River that, if we had more time, would have been fun to explore (along with Mt. Hood and local waterfalls).
Oh, Portland, cheer up! Sorry if we were hard on you. Maybe next time.
Zoom Info
What else memorable in Portland?
The Japanese Gardens up on the hillside park were peaceful and complex and beautiful. So much to see in not that big a place, we took a great guided tour through the five gardens, the Strolling Pond probably being my favorite, all koi and iris-filled, with waterfalls and zigzagging pathways to keep the evil spirits from following me any further on my journey; closely followed by the mossy fairy dust Natural Garden as my second favorite.
We tried some of the food trucks, compelled because there were so many truck villages all around the city. Eh.
Briefly visited the Museum of Contemporary Craft; brief because it was pretty small and in the echoing rooms with several visitors my Mom’s artistic commentary had us crying with laughter, drawing confused looks from the security guard who seemed unable to decide whether or not he should ask us to leave. Giggling fits disturbing the peace of pottery and sculpture, all a bit too serious for our liking at the moment.
Our last night we had drinks at a dive bar and an Italian dinner send off with the family, where I inherited my Mother’s pesto dish, correctly guessing that the tubular pasta resembled worms in my mother’s creative mind. Mom and John stayed in a cute section of town with views of the many bridges over the Willamette River that, if we had more time, would have been fun to explore (along with Mt. Hood and local waterfalls).
Oh, Portland, cheer up! Sorry if we were hard on you. Maybe next time.
Zoom Info
What else memorable in Portland?
The Japanese Gardens up on the hillside park were peaceful and complex and beautiful. So much to see in not that big a place, we took a great guided tour through the five gardens, the Strolling Pond probably being my favorite, all koi and iris-filled, with waterfalls and zigzagging pathways to keep the evil spirits from following me any further on my journey; closely followed by the mossy fairy dust Natural Garden as my second favorite.
We tried some of the food trucks, compelled because there were so many truck villages all around the city. Eh.
Briefly visited the Museum of Contemporary Craft; brief because it was pretty small and in the echoing rooms with several visitors my Mom’s artistic commentary had us crying with laughter, drawing confused looks from the security guard who seemed unable to decide whether or not he should ask us to leave. Giggling fits disturbing the peace of pottery and sculpture, all a bit too serious for our liking at the moment.
Our last night we had drinks at a dive bar and an Italian dinner send off with the family, where I inherited my Mother’s pesto dish, correctly guessing that the tubular pasta resembled worms in my mother’s creative mind. Mom and John stayed in a cute section of town with views of the many bridges over the Willamette River that, if we had more time, would have been fun to explore (along with Mt. Hood and local waterfalls).
Oh, Portland, cheer up! Sorry if we were hard on you. Maybe next time.
Zoom Info
What else memorable in Portland?
The Japanese Gardens up on the hillside park were peaceful and complex and beautiful. So much to see in not that big a place, we took a great guided tour through the five gardens, the Strolling Pond probably being my favorite, all koi and iris-filled, with waterfalls and zigzagging pathways to keep the evil spirits from following me any further on my journey; closely followed by the mossy fairy dust Natural Garden as my second favorite.
We tried some of the food trucks, compelled because there were so many truck villages all around the city. Eh.
Briefly visited the Museum of Contemporary Craft; brief because it was pretty small and in the echoing rooms with several visitors my Mom’s artistic commentary had us crying with laughter, drawing confused looks from the security guard who seemed unable to decide whether or not he should ask us to leave. Giggling fits disturbing the peace of pottery and sculpture, all a bit too serious for our liking at the moment.
Our last night we had drinks at a dive bar and an Italian dinner send off with the family, where I inherited my Mother’s pesto dish, correctly guessing that the tubular pasta resembled worms in my mother’s creative mind. Mom and John stayed in a cute section of town with views of the many bridges over the Willamette River that, if we had more time, would have been fun to explore (along with Mt. Hood and local waterfalls).
Oh, Portland, cheer up! Sorry if we were hard on you. Maybe next time.
Zoom Info
What else memorable in Portland?
The Japanese Gardens up on the hillside park were peaceful and complex and beautiful. So much to see in not that big a place, we took a great guided tour through the five gardens, the Strolling Pond probably being my favorite, all koi and iris-filled, with waterfalls and zigzagging pathways to keep the evil spirits from following me any further on my journey; closely followed by the mossy fairy dust Natural Garden as my second favorite.
We tried some of the food trucks, compelled because there were so many truck villages all around the city. Eh.
Briefly visited the Museum of Contemporary Craft; brief because it was pretty small and in the echoing rooms with several visitors my Mom’s artistic commentary had us crying with laughter, drawing confused looks from the security guard who seemed unable to decide whether or not he should ask us to leave. Giggling fits disturbing the peace of pottery and sculpture, all a bit too serious for our liking at the moment.
Our last night we had drinks at a dive bar and an Italian dinner send off with the family, where I inherited my Mother’s pesto dish, correctly guessing that the tubular pasta resembled worms in my mother’s creative mind. Mom and John stayed in a cute section of town with views of the many bridges over the Willamette River that, if we had more time, would have been fun to explore (along with Mt. Hood and local waterfalls).
Oh, Portland, cheer up! Sorry if we were hard on you. Maybe next time.
Zoom Info

What else memorable in Portland?

The Japanese Gardens up on the hillside park were peaceful and complex and beautiful. So much to see in not that big a place, we took a great guided tour through the five gardens, the Strolling Pond probably being my favorite, all koi and iris-filled, with waterfalls and zigzagging pathways to keep the evil spirits from following me any further on my journey; closely followed by the mossy fairy dust Natural Garden as my second favorite.

We tried some of the food trucks, compelled because there were so many truck villages all around the city. Eh.

Briefly visited the Museum of Contemporary Craft; brief because it was pretty small and in the echoing rooms with several visitors my Mom’s artistic commentary had us crying with laughter, drawing confused looks from the security guard who seemed unable to decide whether or not he should ask us to leave. Giggling fits disturbing the peace of pottery and sculpture, all a bit too serious for our liking at the moment.

Our last night we had drinks at a dive bar and an Italian dinner send off with the family, where I inherited my Mother’s pesto dish, correctly guessing that the tubular pasta resembled worms in my mother’s creative mind. Mom and John stayed in a cute section of town with views of the many bridges over the Willamette River that, if we had more time, would have been fun to explore (along with Mt. Hood and local waterfalls).

Oh, Portland, cheer up! Sorry if we were hard on you. Maybe next time.

We visited two breweries: Rogue and Deschutes. At Rogue, I tried a sampling of darker beers, miffed that they were out of the interesting sounding Chipotle Ale, but the Hazelnut Brown Nectar was unexpectedly slurp-able.
On our way to Deschutes we encountered a nonchalant Star Wars gang casually walking down the street in full Princess Leia, Chewbacca, Storm Trooper, etc. regalia. The passing group caused a surreal time out from a sidewalk spat between Joe and I. Two can’t keep bickering about nonsense when this crew is coming your way; you have a responsibility to say, “Time out. Turn around” and stare quietly as they whistle by, leaving smiles in their wake.
Zoom Info
We visited two breweries: Rogue and Deschutes. At Rogue, I tried a sampling of darker beers, miffed that they were out of the interesting sounding Chipotle Ale, but the Hazelnut Brown Nectar was unexpectedly slurp-able.
On our way to Deschutes we encountered a nonchalant Star Wars gang casually walking down the street in full Princess Leia, Chewbacca, Storm Trooper, etc. regalia. The passing group caused a surreal time out from a sidewalk spat between Joe and I. Two can’t keep bickering about nonsense when this crew is coming your way; you have a responsibility to say, “Time out. Turn around” and stare quietly as they whistle by, leaving smiles in their wake.
Zoom Info
We visited two breweries: Rogue and Deschutes. At Rogue, I tried a sampling of darker beers, miffed that they were out of the interesting sounding Chipotle Ale, but the Hazelnut Brown Nectar was unexpectedly slurp-able.
On our way to Deschutes we encountered a nonchalant Star Wars gang casually walking down the street in full Princess Leia, Chewbacca, Storm Trooper, etc. regalia. The passing group caused a surreal time out from a sidewalk spat between Joe and I. Two can’t keep bickering about nonsense when this crew is coming your way; you have a responsibility to say, “Time out. Turn around” and stare quietly as they whistle by, leaving smiles in their wake.
Zoom Info
We visited two breweries: Rogue and Deschutes. At Rogue, I tried a sampling of darker beers, miffed that they were out of the interesting sounding Chipotle Ale, but the Hazelnut Brown Nectar was unexpectedly slurp-able.
On our way to Deschutes we encountered a nonchalant Star Wars gang casually walking down the street in full Princess Leia, Chewbacca, Storm Trooper, etc. regalia. The passing group caused a surreal time out from a sidewalk spat between Joe and I. Two can’t keep bickering about nonsense when this crew is coming your way; you have a responsibility to say, “Time out. Turn around” and stare quietly as they whistle by, leaving smiles in their wake.
Zoom Info
We visited two breweries: Rogue and Deschutes. At Rogue, I tried a sampling of darker beers, miffed that they were out of the interesting sounding Chipotle Ale, but the Hazelnut Brown Nectar was unexpectedly slurp-able.
On our way to Deschutes we encountered a nonchalant Star Wars gang casually walking down the street in full Princess Leia, Chewbacca, Storm Trooper, etc. regalia. The passing group caused a surreal time out from a sidewalk spat between Joe and I. Two can’t keep bickering about nonsense when this crew is coming your way; you have a responsibility to say, “Time out. Turn around” and stare quietly as they whistle by, leaving smiles in their wake.
Zoom Info
We visited two breweries: Rogue and Deschutes. At Rogue, I tried a sampling of darker beers, miffed that they were out of the interesting sounding Chipotle Ale, but the Hazelnut Brown Nectar was unexpectedly slurp-able.
On our way to Deschutes we encountered a nonchalant Star Wars gang casually walking down the street in full Princess Leia, Chewbacca, Storm Trooper, etc. regalia. The passing group caused a surreal time out from a sidewalk spat between Joe and I. Two can’t keep bickering about nonsense when this crew is coming your way; you have a responsibility to say, “Time out. Turn around” and stare quietly as they whistle by, leaving smiles in their wake.
Zoom Info
We visited two breweries: Rogue and Deschutes. At Rogue, I tried a sampling of darker beers, miffed that they were out of the interesting sounding Chipotle Ale, but the Hazelnut Brown Nectar was unexpectedly slurp-able.
On our way to Deschutes we encountered a nonchalant Star Wars gang casually walking down the street in full Princess Leia, Chewbacca, Storm Trooper, etc. regalia. The passing group caused a surreal time out from a sidewalk spat between Joe and I. Two can’t keep bickering about nonsense when this crew is coming your way; you have a responsibility to say, “Time out. Turn around” and stare quietly as they whistle by, leaving smiles in their wake.
Zoom Info
We visited two breweries: Rogue and Deschutes. At Rogue, I tried a sampling of darker beers, miffed that they were out of the interesting sounding Chipotle Ale, but the Hazelnut Brown Nectar was unexpectedly slurp-able.
On our way to Deschutes we encountered a nonchalant Star Wars gang casually walking down the street in full Princess Leia, Chewbacca, Storm Trooper, etc. regalia. The passing group caused a surreal time out from a sidewalk spat between Joe and I. Two can’t keep bickering about nonsense when this crew is coming your way; you have a responsibility to say, “Time out. Turn around” and stare quietly as they whistle by, leaving smiles in their wake.
Zoom Info

We visited two breweries: Rogue and Deschutes. At Rogue, I tried a sampling of darker beers, miffed that they were out of the interesting sounding Chipotle Ale, but the Hazelnut Brown Nectar was unexpectedly slurp-able.

On our way to Deschutes we encountered a nonchalant Star Wars gang casually walking down the street in full Princess Leia, Chewbacca, Storm Trooper, etc. regalia. The passing group caused a surreal time out from a sidewalk spat between Joe and I. Two can’t keep bickering about nonsense when this crew is coming your way; you have a responsibility to say, “Time out. Turn around” and stare quietly as they whistle by, leaving smiles in their wake.

Then it was a west coast reunion, meeting up with my mom, Jill, and her boyfriend, John, for the first part of their Oregon summer vacation! We rendezvoused at Fuller’s Coffee Shop for breakfast with super friendly waitresses, yummy food, and familiar faces of family feeling wonderful in the cool morning.
We spent hours exploring in Powell Books, which was our favorite spot downtown, rows and color-coded floors of books piled on tall shelved geometric labyrinths. It used to be such a common occurrence to spend time in bookstores, now too busy and maybe the mildew and dust mite allergies sneezing among the used books, but this spot was a completely relaxing haven of meditative exploring.  Joe stocked up on environmental science and Darwin books. I picked up a used copy of John Steinbeck’s cross-country tale, Travels with Charley; thank you, John Wylie, for this wonderful recommendation! It’s the perfect accompaniment to this trip.
Meandering through different areas of town; looked like adorable stores, lots of indie art and hipster stocking tendencies in the clothing spots. In general, the way Portland people dressed kind of reminded me of pictures of myself as a child playing dress up, putting on just about anything and continuing to pile it on without regard. Liberal use of neon. Something fun and anarchic about the layered clashing look, but sometimes the choices bordered on the deranged and it caused an off-kilter feeling as regular folks in wild outfits would dart out in the middle of the street to cross in front of our screeching-to-a-halt car (as it was, street crossing was also tinged with some anarchy).
Zoom Info
Then it was a west coast reunion, meeting up with my mom, Jill, and her boyfriend, John, for the first part of their Oregon summer vacation! We rendezvoused at Fuller’s Coffee Shop for breakfast with super friendly waitresses, yummy food, and familiar faces of family feeling wonderful in the cool morning.
We spent hours exploring in Powell Books, which was our favorite spot downtown, rows and color-coded floors of books piled on tall shelved geometric labyrinths. It used to be such a common occurrence to spend time in bookstores, now too busy and maybe the mildew and dust mite allergies sneezing among the used books, but this spot was a completely relaxing haven of meditative exploring.  Joe stocked up on environmental science and Darwin books. I picked up a used copy of John Steinbeck’s cross-country tale, Travels with Charley; thank you, John Wylie, for this wonderful recommendation! It’s the perfect accompaniment to this trip.
Meandering through different areas of town; looked like adorable stores, lots of indie art and hipster stocking tendencies in the clothing spots. In general, the way Portland people dressed kind of reminded me of pictures of myself as a child playing dress up, putting on just about anything and continuing to pile it on without regard. Liberal use of neon. Something fun and anarchic about the layered clashing look, but sometimes the choices bordered on the deranged and it caused an off-kilter feeling as regular folks in wild outfits would dart out in the middle of the street to cross in front of our screeching-to-a-halt car (as it was, street crossing was also tinged with some anarchy).
Zoom Info
Then it was a west coast reunion, meeting up with my mom, Jill, and her boyfriend, John, for the first part of their Oregon summer vacation! We rendezvoused at Fuller’s Coffee Shop for breakfast with super friendly waitresses, yummy food, and familiar faces of family feeling wonderful in the cool morning.
We spent hours exploring in Powell Books, which was our favorite spot downtown, rows and color-coded floors of books piled on tall shelved geometric labyrinths. It used to be such a common occurrence to spend time in bookstores, now too busy and maybe the mildew and dust mite allergies sneezing among the used books, but this spot was a completely relaxing haven of meditative exploring.  Joe stocked up on environmental science and Darwin books. I picked up a used copy of John Steinbeck’s cross-country tale, Travels with Charley; thank you, John Wylie, for this wonderful recommendation! It’s the perfect accompaniment to this trip.
Meandering through different areas of town; looked like adorable stores, lots of indie art and hipster stocking tendencies in the clothing spots. In general, the way Portland people dressed kind of reminded me of pictures of myself as a child playing dress up, putting on just about anything and continuing to pile it on without regard. Liberal use of neon. Something fun and anarchic about the layered clashing look, but sometimes the choices bordered on the deranged and it caused an off-kilter feeling as regular folks in wild outfits would dart out in the middle of the street to cross in front of our screeching-to-a-halt car (as it was, street crossing was also tinged with some anarchy).
Zoom Info
Then it was a west coast reunion, meeting up with my mom, Jill, and her boyfriend, John, for the first part of their Oregon summer vacation! We rendezvoused at Fuller’s Coffee Shop for breakfast with super friendly waitresses, yummy food, and familiar faces of family feeling wonderful in the cool morning.
We spent hours exploring in Powell Books, which was our favorite spot downtown, rows and color-coded floors of books piled on tall shelved geometric labyrinths. It used to be such a common occurrence to spend time in bookstores, now too busy and maybe the mildew and dust mite allergies sneezing among the used books, but this spot was a completely relaxing haven of meditative exploring.  Joe stocked up on environmental science and Darwin books. I picked up a used copy of John Steinbeck’s cross-country tale, Travels with Charley; thank you, John Wylie, for this wonderful recommendation! It’s the perfect accompaniment to this trip.
Meandering through different areas of town; looked like adorable stores, lots of indie art and hipster stocking tendencies in the clothing spots. In general, the way Portland people dressed kind of reminded me of pictures of myself as a child playing dress up, putting on just about anything and continuing to pile it on without regard. Liberal use of neon. Something fun and anarchic about the layered clashing look, but sometimes the choices bordered on the deranged and it caused an off-kilter feeling as regular folks in wild outfits would dart out in the middle of the street to cross in front of our screeching-to-a-halt car (as it was, street crossing was also tinged with some anarchy).
Zoom Info
Then it was a west coast reunion, meeting up with my mom, Jill, and her boyfriend, John, for the first part of their Oregon summer vacation! We rendezvoused at Fuller’s Coffee Shop for breakfast with super friendly waitresses, yummy food, and familiar faces of family feeling wonderful in the cool morning.
We spent hours exploring in Powell Books, which was our favorite spot downtown, rows and color-coded floors of books piled on tall shelved geometric labyrinths. It used to be such a common occurrence to spend time in bookstores, now too busy and maybe the mildew and dust mite allergies sneezing among the used books, but this spot was a completely relaxing haven of meditative exploring.  Joe stocked up on environmental science and Darwin books. I picked up a used copy of John Steinbeck’s cross-country tale, Travels with Charley; thank you, John Wylie, for this wonderful recommendation! It’s the perfect accompaniment to this trip.
Meandering through different areas of town; looked like adorable stores, lots of indie art and hipster stocking tendencies in the clothing spots. In general, the way Portland people dressed kind of reminded me of pictures of myself as a child playing dress up, putting on just about anything and continuing to pile it on without regard. Liberal use of neon. Something fun and anarchic about the layered clashing look, but sometimes the choices bordered on the deranged and it caused an off-kilter feeling as regular folks in wild outfits would dart out in the middle of the street to cross in front of our screeching-to-a-halt car (as it was, street crossing was also tinged with some anarchy).
Zoom Info
Then it was a west coast reunion, meeting up with my mom, Jill, and her boyfriend, John, for the first part of their Oregon summer vacation! We rendezvoused at Fuller’s Coffee Shop for breakfast with super friendly waitresses, yummy food, and familiar faces of family feeling wonderful in the cool morning.
We spent hours exploring in Powell Books, which was our favorite spot downtown, rows and color-coded floors of books piled on tall shelved geometric labyrinths. It used to be such a common occurrence to spend time in bookstores, now too busy and maybe the mildew and dust mite allergies sneezing among the used books, but this spot was a completely relaxing haven of meditative exploring.  Joe stocked up on environmental science and Darwin books. I picked up a used copy of John Steinbeck’s cross-country tale, Travels with Charley; thank you, John Wylie, for this wonderful recommendation! It’s the perfect accompaniment to this trip.
Meandering through different areas of town; looked like adorable stores, lots of indie art and hipster stocking tendencies in the clothing spots. In general, the way Portland people dressed kind of reminded me of pictures of myself as a child playing dress up, putting on just about anything and continuing to pile it on without regard. Liberal use of neon. Something fun and anarchic about the layered clashing look, but sometimes the choices bordered on the deranged and it caused an off-kilter feeling as regular folks in wild outfits would dart out in the middle of the street to cross in front of our screeching-to-a-halt car (as it was, street crossing was also tinged with some anarchy).
Zoom Info
Then it was a west coast reunion, meeting up with my mom, Jill, and her boyfriend, John, for the first part of their Oregon summer vacation! We rendezvoused at Fuller’s Coffee Shop for breakfast with super friendly waitresses, yummy food, and familiar faces of family feeling wonderful in the cool morning.
We spent hours exploring in Powell Books, which was our favorite spot downtown, rows and color-coded floors of books piled on tall shelved geometric labyrinths. It used to be such a common occurrence to spend time in bookstores, now too busy and maybe the mildew and dust mite allergies sneezing among the used books, but this spot was a completely relaxing haven of meditative exploring.  Joe stocked up on environmental science and Darwin books. I picked up a used copy of John Steinbeck’s cross-country tale, Travels with Charley; thank you, John Wylie, for this wonderful recommendation! It’s the perfect accompaniment to this trip.
Meandering through different areas of town; looked like adorable stores, lots of indie art and hipster stocking tendencies in the clothing spots. In general, the way Portland people dressed kind of reminded me of pictures of myself as a child playing dress up, putting on just about anything and continuing to pile it on without regard. Liberal use of neon. Something fun and anarchic about the layered clashing look, but sometimes the choices bordered on the deranged and it caused an off-kilter feeling as regular folks in wild outfits would dart out in the middle of the street to cross in front of our screeching-to-a-halt car (as it was, street crossing was also tinged with some anarchy).
Zoom Info
Then it was a west coast reunion, meeting up with my mom, Jill, and her boyfriend, John, for the first part of their Oregon summer vacation! We rendezvoused at Fuller’s Coffee Shop for breakfast with super friendly waitresses, yummy food, and familiar faces of family feeling wonderful in the cool morning.
We spent hours exploring in Powell Books, which was our favorite spot downtown, rows and color-coded floors of books piled on tall shelved geometric labyrinths. It used to be such a common occurrence to spend time in bookstores, now too busy and maybe the mildew and dust mite allergies sneezing among the used books, but this spot was a completely relaxing haven of meditative exploring.  Joe stocked up on environmental science and Darwin books. I picked up a used copy of John Steinbeck’s cross-country tale, Travels with Charley; thank you, John Wylie, for this wonderful recommendation! It’s the perfect accompaniment to this trip.
Meandering through different areas of town; looked like adorable stores, lots of indie art and hipster stocking tendencies in the clothing spots. In general, the way Portland people dressed kind of reminded me of pictures of myself as a child playing dress up, putting on just about anything and continuing to pile it on without regard. Liberal use of neon. Something fun and anarchic about the layered clashing look, but sometimes the choices bordered on the deranged and it caused an off-kilter feeling as regular folks in wild outfits would dart out in the middle of the street to cross in front of our screeching-to-a-halt car (as it was, street crossing was also tinged with some anarchy).
Zoom Info
Then it was a west coast reunion, meeting up with my mom, Jill, and her boyfriend, John, for the first part of their Oregon summer vacation! We rendezvoused at Fuller’s Coffee Shop for breakfast with super friendly waitresses, yummy food, and familiar faces of family feeling wonderful in the cool morning.
We spent hours exploring in Powell Books, which was our favorite spot downtown, rows and color-coded floors of books piled on tall shelved geometric labyrinths. It used to be such a common occurrence to spend time in bookstores, now too busy and maybe the mildew and dust mite allergies sneezing among the used books, but this spot was a completely relaxing haven of meditative exploring.  Joe stocked up on environmental science and Darwin books. I picked up a used copy of John Steinbeck’s cross-country tale, Travels with Charley; thank you, John Wylie, for this wonderful recommendation! It’s the perfect accompaniment to this trip.
Meandering through different areas of town; looked like adorable stores, lots of indie art and hipster stocking tendencies in the clothing spots. In general, the way Portland people dressed kind of reminded me of pictures of myself as a child playing dress up, putting on just about anything and continuing to pile it on without regard. Liberal use of neon. Something fun and anarchic about the layered clashing look, but sometimes the choices bordered on the deranged and it caused an off-kilter feeling as regular folks in wild outfits would dart out in the middle of the street to cross in front of our screeching-to-a-halt car (as it was, street crossing was also tinged with some anarchy).
Zoom Info

Then it was a west coast reunion, meeting up with my mom, Jill, and her boyfriend, John, for the first part of their Oregon summer vacation! We rendezvoused at Fuller’s Coffee Shop for breakfast with super friendly waitresses, yummy food, and familiar faces of family feeling wonderful in the cool morning.

We spent hours exploring in Powell Books, which was our favorite spot downtown, rows and color-coded floors of books piled on tall shelved geometric labyrinths. It used to be such a common occurrence to spend time in bookstores, now too busy and maybe the mildew and dust mite allergies sneezing among the used books, but this spot was a completely relaxing haven of meditative exploring.  Joe stocked up on environmental science and Darwin books. I picked up a used copy of John Steinbeck’s cross-country tale, Travels with Charley; thank you, John Wylie, for this wonderful recommendation! It’s the perfect accompaniment to this trip.

Meandering through different areas of town; looked like adorable stores, lots of indie art and hipster stocking tendencies in the clothing spots. In general, the way Portland people dressed kind of reminded me of pictures of myself as a child playing dress up, putting on just about anything and continuing to pile it on without regard. Liberal use of neon. Something fun and anarchic about the layered clashing look, but sometimes the choices bordered on the deranged and it caused an off-kilter feeling as regular folks in wild outfits would dart out in the middle of the street to cross in front of our screeching-to-a-halt car (as it was, street crossing was also tinged with some anarchy).

Portland, we were so excited to meet you! We had dreams about living in you and brewing beer with you and feeling grungy… in a good way!
But you kind of let us down. Boo.
This appears to be the one destination where our expectations were just too high and our promised land was not delivered.
Our days were primarily filled with a sense of confusion, as we couldn’t exactly define why we didn’t really love it there. Or even like it that much. We saw the crew of Portlandia preparing to film an episode at Prasad, the veggie natural foods/juice bar/yoga studio spot where we were eating lunch (which was quite delicious). We had heard mainly negative things about the show, but we thought it might help to explain the place a bit better, so we watched the first episode to shed some light on our situation, and it seemed it a bit right. Maybe the nineties were wonderful while also traumatic and just better to leave far, far behind… although I still like flannel.
But not all was gloomy drizzle!
We got to see my long lost friend, Wendy, who I met during San Diego AmeriCorps days and had not seen in years! We had happy hour Bourbon and Gingers at Victory Bar and (some of us) shared delicious Thai food and strange but hypnotically tangy drinking vinegar (grapefruit; celery; rhubarb) on a picnic table outdoors at Pok Pok, as we caught up on the feel of places lived and career variations and what land our feet will be planted on in the future.
Our airbnb spot was an adorable little bungalow in a residential area near Mt. Tabor in the southeast, sunny and smothered in overgrown wildflowers climbing in through the open windows, set behind a larger house. Our car could barely make it down the driveway, swatting tall stems of summer flora gone wild (including several wild raspberries still undiscovered by birds and promptly picked by us). With only a half bath, we hoped there might be a hose to rinse off in a hidden corner, but instead there was only an old claw foot tub to nowhere, nestled in some weeds, and we used the shower at my mom’s hotel instead. There wasn’t much furnishing the place, but there definitely was a disco ball and a lot of mirrors, which was set up on one occasion to get some seventies light show going on.
Zoom Info
Portland, we were so excited to meet you! We had dreams about living in you and brewing beer with you and feeling grungy… in a good way!
But you kind of let us down. Boo.
This appears to be the one destination where our expectations were just too high and our promised land was not delivered.
Our days were primarily filled with a sense of confusion, as we couldn’t exactly define why we didn’t really love it there. Or even like it that much. We saw the crew of Portlandia preparing to film an episode at Prasad, the veggie natural foods/juice bar/yoga studio spot where we were eating lunch (which was quite delicious). We had heard mainly negative things about the show, but we thought it might help to explain the place a bit better, so we watched the first episode to shed some light on our situation, and it seemed it a bit right. Maybe the nineties were wonderful while also traumatic and just better to leave far, far behind… although I still like flannel.
But not all was gloomy drizzle!
We got to see my long lost friend, Wendy, who I met during San Diego AmeriCorps days and had not seen in years! We had happy hour Bourbon and Gingers at Victory Bar and (some of us) shared delicious Thai food and strange but hypnotically tangy drinking vinegar (grapefruit; celery; rhubarb) on a picnic table outdoors at Pok Pok, as we caught up on the feel of places lived and career variations and what land our feet will be planted on in the future.
Our airbnb spot was an adorable little bungalow in a residential area near Mt. Tabor in the southeast, sunny and smothered in overgrown wildflowers climbing in through the open windows, set behind a larger house. Our car could barely make it down the driveway, swatting tall stems of summer flora gone wild (including several wild raspberries still undiscovered by birds and promptly picked by us). With only a half bath, we hoped there might be a hose to rinse off in a hidden corner, but instead there was only an old claw foot tub to nowhere, nestled in some weeds, and we used the shower at my mom’s hotel instead. There wasn’t much furnishing the place, but there definitely was a disco ball and a lot of mirrors, which was set up on one occasion to get some seventies light show going on.
Zoom Info
Portland, we were so excited to meet you! We had dreams about living in you and brewing beer with you and feeling grungy… in a good way!
But you kind of let us down. Boo.
This appears to be the one destination where our expectations were just too high and our promised land was not delivered.
Our days were primarily filled with a sense of confusion, as we couldn’t exactly define why we didn’t really love it there. Or even like it that much. We saw the crew of Portlandia preparing to film an episode at Prasad, the veggie natural foods/juice bar/yoga studio spot where we were eating lunch (which was quite delicious). We had heard mainly negative things about the show, but we thought it might help to explain the place a bit better, so we watched the first episode to shed some light on our situation, and it seemed it a bit right. Maybe the nineties were wonderful while also traumatic and just better to leave far, far behind… although I still like flannel.
But not all was gloomy drizzle!
We got to see my long lost friend, Wendy, who I met during San Diego AmeriCorps days and had not seen in years! We had happy hour Bourbon and Gingers at Victory Bar and (some of us) shared delicious Thai food and strange but hypnotically tangy drinking vinegar (grapefruit; celery; rhubarb) on a picnic table outdoors at Pok Pok, as we caught up on the feel of places lived and career variations and what land our feet will be planted on in the future.
Our airbnb spot was an adorable little bungalow in a residential area near Mt. Tabor in the southeast, sunny and smothered in overgrown wildflowers climbing in through the open windows, set behind a larger house. Our car could barely make it down the driveway, swatting tall stems of summer flora gone wild (including several wild raspberries still undiscovered by birds and promptly picked by us). With only a half bath, we hoped there might be a hose to rinse off in a hidden corner, but instead there was only an old claw foot tub to nowhere, nestled in some weeds, and we used the shower at my mom’s hotel instead. There wasn’t much furnishing the place, but there definitely was a disco ball and a lot of mirrors, which was set up on one occasion to get some seventies light show going on.
Zoom Info
Portland, we were so excited to meet you! We had dreams about living in you and brewing beer with you and feeling grungy… in a good way!
But you kind of let us down. Boo.
This appears to be the one destination where our expectations were just too high and our promised land was not delivered.
Our days were primarily filled with a sense of confusion, as we couldn’t exactly define why we didn’t really love it there. Or even like it that much. We saw the crew of Portlandia preparing to film an episode at Prasad, the veggie natural foods/juice bar/yoga studio spot where we were eating lunch (which was quite delicious). We had heard mainly negative things about the show, but we thought it might help to explain the place a bit better, so we watched the first episode to shed some light on our situation, and it seemed it a bit right. Maybe the nineties were wonderful while also traumatic and just better to leave far, far behind… although I still like flannel.
But not all was gloomy drizzle!
We got to see my long lost friend, Wendy, who I met during San Diego AmeriCorps days and had not seen in years! We had happy hour Bourbon and Gingers at Victory Bar and (some of us) shared delicious Thai food and strange but hypnotically tangy drinking vinegar (grapefruit; celery; rhubarb) on a picnic table outdoors at Pok Pok, as we caught up on the feel of places lived and career variations and what land our feet will be planted on in the future.
Our airbnb spot was an adorable little bungalow in a residential area near Mt. Tabor in the southeast, sunny and smothered in overgrown wildflowers climbing in through the open windows, set behind a larger house. Our car could barely make it down the driveway, swatting tall stems of summer flora gone wild (including several wild raspberries still undiscovered by birds and promptly picked by us). With only a half bath, we hoped there might be a hose to rinse off in a hidden corner, but instead there was only an old claw foot tub to nowhere, nestled in some weeds, and we used the shower at my mom’s hotel instead. There wasn’t much furnishing the place, but there definitely was a disco ball and a lot of mirrors, which was set up on one occasion to get some seventies light show going on.
Zoom Info
Portland, we were so excited to meet you! We had dreams about living in you and brewing beer with you and feeling grungy… in a good way!
But you kind of let us down. Boo.
This appears to be the one destination where our expectations were just too high and our promised land was not delivered.
Our days were primarily filled with a sense of confusion, as we couldn’t exactly define why we didn’t really love it there. Or even like it that much. We saw the crew of Portlandia preparing to film an episode at Prasad, the veggie natural foods/juice bar/yoga studio spot where we were eating lunch (which was quite delicious). We had heard mainly negative things about the show, but we thought it might help to explain the place a bit better, so we watched the first episode to shed some light on our situation, and it seemed it a bit right. Maybe the nineties were wonderful while also traumatic and just better to leave far, far behind… although I still like flannel.
But not all was gloomy drizzle!
We got to see my long lost friend, Wendy, who I met during San Diego AmeriCorps days and had not seen in years! We had happy hour Bourbon and Gingers at Victory Bar and (some of us) shared delicious Thai food and strange but hypnotically tangy drinking vinegar (grapefruit; celery; rhubarb) on a picnic table outdoors at Pok Pok, as we caught up on the feel of places lived and career variations and what land our feet will be planted on in the future.
Our airbnb spot was an adorable little bungalow in a residential area near Mt. Tabor in the southeast, sunny and smothered in overgrown wildflowers climbing in through the open windows, set behind a larger house. Our car could barely make it down the driveway, swatting tall stems of summer flora gone wild (including several wild raspberries still undiscovered by birds and promptly picked by us). With only a half bath, we hoped there might be a hose to rinse off in a hidden corner, but instead there was only an old claw foot tub to nowhere, nestled in some weeds, and we used the shower at my mom’s hotel instead. There wasn’t much furnishing the place, but there definitely was a disco ball and a lot of mirrors, which was set up on one occasion to get some seventies light show going on.
Zoom Info
Portland, we were so excited to meet you! We had dreams about living in you and brewing beer with you and feeling grungy… in a good way!
But you kind of let us down. Boo.
This appears to be the one destination where our expectations were just too high and our promised land was not delivered.
Our days were primarily filled with a sense of confusion, as we couldn’t exactly define why we didn’t really love it there. Or even like it that much. We saw the crew of Portlandia preparing to film an episode at Prasad, the veggie natural foods/juice bar/yoga studio spot where we were eating lunch (which was quite delicious). We had heard mainly negative things about the show, but we thought it might help to explain the place a bit better, so we watched the first episode to shed some light on our situation, and it seemed it a bit right. Maybe the nineties were wonderful while also traumatic and just better to leave far, far behind… although I still like flannel.
But not all was gloomy drizzle!
We got to see my long lost friend, Wendy, who I met during San Diego AmeriCorps days and had not seen in years! We had happy hour Bourbon and Gingers at Victory Bar and (some of us) shared delicious Thai food and strange but hypnotically tangy drinking vinegar (grapefruit; celery; rhubarb) on a picnic table outdoors at Pok Pok, as we caught up on the feel of places lived and career variations and what land our feet will be planted on in the future.
Our airbnb spot was an adorable little bungalow in a residential area near Mt. Tabor in the southeast, sunny and smothered in overgrown wildflowers climbing in through the open windows, set behind a larger house. Our car could barely make it down the driveway, swatting tall stems of summer flora gone wild (including several wild raspberries still undiscovered by birds and promptly picked by us). With only a half bath, we hoped there might be a hose to rinse off in a hidden corner, but instead there was only an old claw foot tub to nowhere, nestled in some weeds, and we used the shower at my mom’s hotel instead. There wasn’t much furnishing the place, but there definitely was a disco ball and a lot of mirrors, which was set up on one occasion to get some seventies light show going on.
Zoom Info
Portland, we were so excited to meet you! We had dreams about living in you and brewing beer with you and feeling grungy… in a good way!
But you kind of let us down. Boo.
This appears to be the one destination where our expectations were just too high and our promised land was not delivered.
Our days were primarily filled with a sense of confusion, as we couldn’t exactly define why we didn’t really love it there. Or even like it that much. We saw the crew of Portlandia preparing to film an episode at Prasad, the veggie natural foods/juice bar/yoga studio spot where we were eating lunch (which was quite delicious). We had heard mainly negative things about the show, but we thought it might help to explain the place a bit better, so we watched the first episode to shed some light on our situation, and it seemed it a bit right. Maybe the nineties were wonderful while also traumatic and just better to leave far, far behind… although I still like flannel.
But not all was gloomy drizzle!
We got to see my long lost friend, Wendy, who I met during San Diego AmeriCorps days and had not seen in years! We had happy hour Bourbon and Gingers at Victory Bar and (some of us) shared delicious Thai food and strange but hypnotically tangy drinking vinegar (grapefruit; celery; rhubarb) on a picnic table outdoors at Pok Pok, as we caught up on the feel of places lived and career variations and what land our feet will be planted on in the future.
Our airbnb spot was an adorable little bungalow in a residential area near Mt. Tabor in the southeast, sunny and smothered in overgrown wildflowers climbing in through the open windows, set behind a larger house. Our car could barely make it down the driveway, swatting tall stems of summer flora gone wild (including several wild raspberries still undiscovered by birds and promptly picked by us). With only a half bath, we hoped there might be a hose to rinse off in a hidden corner, but instead there was only an old claw foot tub to nowhere, nestled in some weeds, and we used the shower at my mom’s hotel instead. There wasn’t much furnishing the place, but there definitely was a disco ball and a lot of mirrors, which was set up on one occasion to get some seventies light show going on.
Zoom Info
Portland, we were so excited to meet you! We had dreams about living in you and brewing beer with you and feeling grungy… in a good way!
But you kind of let us down. Boo.
This appears to be the one destination where our expectations were just too high and our promised land was not delivered.
Our days were primarily filled with a sense of confusion, as we couldn’t exactly define why we didn’t really love it there. Or even like it that much. We saw the crew of Portlandia preparing to film an episode at Prasad, the veggie natural foods/juice bar/yoga studio spot where we were eating lunch (which was quite delicious). We had heard mainly negative things about the show, but we thought it might help to explain the place a bit better, so we watched the first episode to shed some light on our situation, and it seemed it a bit right. Maybe the nineties were wonderful while also traumatic and just better to leave far, far behind… although I still like flannel.
But not all was gloomy drizzle!
We got to see my long lost friend, Wendy, who I met during San Diego AmeriCorps days and had not seen in years! We had happy hour Bourbon and Gingers at Victory Bar and (some of us) shared delicious Thai food and strange but hypnotically tangy drinking vinegar (grapefruit; celery; rhubarb) on a picnic table outdoors at Pok Pok, as we caught up on the feel of places lived and career variations and what land our feet will be planted on in the future.
Our airbnb spot was an adorable little bungalow in a residential area near Mt. Tabor in the southeast, sunny and smothered in overgrown wildflowers climbing in through the open windows, set behind a larger house. Our car could barely make it down the driveway, swatting tall stems of summer flora gone wild (including several wild raspberries still undiscovered by birds and promptly picked by us). With only a half bath, we hoped there might be a hose to rinse off in a hidden corner, but instead there was only an old claw foot tub to nowhere, nestled in some weeds, and we used the shower at my mom’s hotel instead. There wasn’t much furnishing the place, but there definitely was a disco ball and a lot of mirrors, which was set up on one occasion to get some seventies light show going on.
Zoom Info
Portland, we were so excited to meet you! We had dreams about living in you and brewing beer with you and feeling grungy… in a good way!
But you kind of let us down. Boo.
This appears to be the one destination where our expectations were just too high and our promised land was not delivered.
Our days were primarily filled with a sense of confusion, as we couldn’t exactly define why we didn’t really love it there. Or even like it that much. We saw the crew of Portlandia preparing to film an episode at Prasad, the veggie natural foods/juice bar/yoga studio spot where we were eating lunch (which was quite delicious). We had heard mainly negative things about the show, but we thought it might help to explain the place a bit better, so we watched the first episode to shed some light on our situation, and it seemed it a bit right. Maybe the nineties were wonderful while also traumatic and just better to leave far, far behind… although I still like flannel.
But not all was gloomy drizzle!
We got to see my long lost friend, Wendy, who I met during San Diego AmeriCorps days and had not seen in years! We had happy hour Bourbon and Gingers at Victory Bar and (some of us) shared delicious Thai food and strange but hypnotically tangy drinking vinegar (grapefruit; celery; rhubarb) on a picnic table outdoors at Pok Pok, as we caught up on the feel of places lived and career variations and what land our feet will be planted on in the future.
Our airbnb spot was an adorable little bungalow in a residential area near Mt. Tabor in the southeast, sunny and smothered in overgrown wildflowers climbing in through the open windows, set behind a larger house. Our car could barely make it down the driveway, swatting tall stems of summer flora gone wild (including several wild raspberries still undiscovered by birds and promptly picked by us). With only a half bath, we hoped there might be a hose to rinse off in a hidden corner, but instead there was only an old claw foot tub to nowhere, nestled in some weeds, and we used the shower at my mom’s hotel instead. There wasn’t much furnishing the place, but there definitely was a disco ball and a lot of mirrors, which was set up on one occasion to get some seventies light show going on.
Zoom Info

Portland, we were so excited to meet you! We had dreams about living in you and brewing beer with you and feeling grungy… in a good way!

But you kind of let us down. Boo.

This appears to be the one destination where our expectations were just too high and our promised land was not delivered.

Our days were primarily filled with a sense of confusion, as we couldn’t exactly define why we didn’t really love it there. Or even like it that much. We saw the crew of Portlandia preparing to film an episode at Prasad, the veggie natural foods/juice bar/yoga studio spot where we were eating lunch (which was quite delicious). We had heard mainly negative things about the show, but we thought it might help to explain the place a bit better, so we watched the first episode to shed some light on our situation, and it seemed it a bit right. Maybe the nineties were wonderful while also traumatic and just better to leave far, far behind… although I still like flannel.

But not all was gloomy drizzle!

We got to see my long lost friend, Wendy, who I met during San Diego AmeriCorps days and had not seen in years! We had happy hour Bourbon and Gingers at Victory Bar and (some of us) shared delicious Thai food and strange but hypnotically tangy drinking vinegar (grapefruit; celery; rhubarb) on a picnic table outdoors at Pok Pok, as we caught up on the feel of places lived and career variations and what land our feet will be planted on in the future.

Our airbnb spot was an adorable little bungalow in a residential area near Mt. Tabor in the southeast, sunny and smothered in overgrown wildflowers climbing in through the open windows, set behind a larger house. Our car could barely make it down the driveway, swatting tall stems of summer flora gone wild (including several wild raspberries still undiscovered by birds and promptly picked by us). With only a half bath, we hoped there might be a hose to rinse off in a hidden corner, but instead there was only an old claw foot tub to nowhere, nestled in some weeds, and we used the shower at my mom’s hotel instead. There wasn’t much furnishing the place, but there definitely was a disco ball and a lot of mirrors, which was set up on one occasion to get some seventies light show going on.

Switching to our last time zone! Pacific Standard Time helps us shave an hour off our pretty long haul between Montana and our next destination: Seattle, Washington. Surprisingly, we are not all that phased by the eleven hours in the car… all our points of reference for a reasonable driving time got lost somewhere back on a Midwestern road. This capacity to sit within a couple feet of one another with so much land flying by for long periods of times feels liberating, realizing our flexibility to cross long distances with little planning and a whim. We start to talk about what we’ll do when we’re back in Philadelphia: where are the nearest national parks for our season pass, and what hiking might be easy, and how weekends in the autumn could be spent camping, and a couple hour drive is nothing at all at this point, so how much exploring could we do in our free time?
There are also some stretches of road during which we annoy each other to no end, the mile markers filled with memories of discontent, made all the more frustrating by the fact that we are on vacation and should be enjoying ourselves! Another byproduct of sitting within a couple of feet of one another for days on end in a vehicle filled with crap on your way to the unknown.
But mainly it’s just beautiful and in love.
Cut down to the west of Missoula, through the Lolo Forest, curve into Idaho, past the lake at Coeur d’Alene, to Spokane for lunch overlooking the falls, recommended by the Montana glassblowers. Into the desert of western Washington, slashed through by the Columbia River, the Wild Horses Monument forever stampeding to the edge of a hill, through the petrified gingkoes, to where it gets green again, the Cascades the last hurdle before we are finally over to the coast.
Idaho digression: rest stop ground squirrel chaos. We pull out to a forested spot where very many little squirrels are flitting all about the shrubs and garbage cans. Not just flitting; more like running amok. And not just on the ground, but on the people who are kneeling down and feeding them out of their hands and have them crawling all over their laps and are begging at their feet. As one father said of his twelve year old son covered in rodents: “he’s like the squirrel whisperer!” Bleck! You would need to be fully Lysol-ed before we let you back in our vehicle.
Zoom Info
Switching to our last time zone! Pacific Standard Time helps us shave an hour off our pretty long haul between Montana and our next destination: Seattle, Washington. Surprisingly, we are not all that phased by the eleven hours in the car… all our points of reference for a reasonable driving time got lost somewhere back on a Midwestern road. This capacity to sit within a couple feet of one another with so much land flying by for long periods of times feels liberating, realizing our flexibility to cross long distances with little planning and a whim. We start to talk about what we’ll do when we’re back in Philadelphia: where are the nearest national parks for our season pass, and what hiking might be easy, and how weekends in the autumn could be spent camping, and a couple hour drive is nothing at all at this point, so how much exploring could we do in our free time?
There are also some stretches of road during which we annoy each other to no end, the mile markers filled with memories of discontent, made all the more frustrating by the fact that we are on vacation and should be enjoying ourselves! Another byproduct of sitting within a couple of feet of one another for days on end in a vehicle filled with crap on your way to the unknown.
But mainly it’s just beautiful and in love.
Cut down to the west of Missoula, through the Lolo Forest, curve into Idaho, past the lake at Coeur d’Alene, to Spokane for lunch overlooking the falls, recommended by the Montana glassblowers. Into the desert of western Washington, slashed through by the Columbia River, the Wild Horses Monument forever stampeding to the edge of a hill, through the petrified gingkoes, to where it gets green again, the Cascades the last hurdle before we are finally over to the coast.
Idaho digression: rest stop ground squirrel chaos. We pull out to a forested spot where very many little squirrels are flitting all about the shrubs and garbage cans. Not just flitting; more like running amok. And not just on the ground, but on the people who are kneeling down and feeding them out of their hands and have them crawling all over their laps and are begging at their feet. As one father said of his twelve year old son covered in rodents: “he’s like the squirrel whisperer!” Bleck! You would need to be fully Lysol-ed before we let you back in our vehicle.
Zoom Info
Switching to our last time zone! Pacific Standard Time helps us shave an hour off our pretty long haul between Montana and our next destination: Seattle, Washington. Surprisingly, we are not all that phased by the eleven hours in the car… all our points of reference for a reasonable driving time got lost somewhere back on a Midwestern road. This capacity to sit within a couple feet of one another with so much land flying by for long periods of times feels liberating, realizing our flexibility to cross long distances with little planning and a whim. We start to talk about what we’ll do when we’re back in Philadelphia: where are the nearest national parks for our season pass, and what hiking might be easy, and how weekends in the autumn could be spent camping, and a couple hour drive is nothing at all at this point, so how much exploring could we do in our free time?
There are also some stretches of road during which we annoy each other to no end, the mile markers filled with memories of discontent, made all the more frustrating by the fact that we are on vacation and should be enjoying ourselves! Another byproduct of sitting within a couple of feet of one another for days on end in a vehicle filled with crap on your way to the unknown.
But mainly it’s just beautiful and in love.
Cut down to the west of Missoula, through the Lolo Forest, curve into Idaho, past the lake at Coeur d’Alene, to Spokane for lunch overlooking the falls, recommended by the Montana glassblowers. Into the desert of western Washington, slashed through by the Columbia River, the Wild Horses Monument forever stampeding to the edge of a hill, through the petrified gingkoes, to where it gets green again, the Cascades the last hurdle before we are finally over to the coast.
Idaho digression: rest stop ground squirrel chaos. We pull out to a forested spot where very many little squirrels are flitting all about the shrubs and garbage cans. Not just flitting; more like running amok. And not just on the ground, but on the people who are kneeling down and feeding them out of their hands and have them crawling all over their laps and are begging at their feet. As one father said of his twelve year old son covered in rodents: “he’s like the squirrel whisperer!” Bleck! You would need to be fully Lysol-ed before we let you back in our vehicle.
Zoom Info
Switching to our last time zone! Pacific Standard Time helps us shave an hour off our pretty long haul between Montana and our next destination: Seattle, Washington. Surprisingly, we are not all that phased by the eleven hours in the car… all our points of reference for a reasonable driving time got lost somewhere back on a Midwestern road. This capacity to sit within a couple feet of one another with so much land flying by for long periods of times feels liberating, realizing our flexibility to cross long distances with little planning and a whim. We start to talk about what we’ll do when we’re back in Philadelphia: where are the nearest national parks for our season pass, and what hiking might be easy, and how weekends in the autumn could be spent camping, and a couple hour drive is nothing at all at this point, so how much exploring could we do in our free time?
There are also some stretches of road during which we annoy each other to no end, the mile markers filled with memories of discontent, made all the more frustrating by the fact that we are on vacation and should be enjoying ourselves! Another byproduct of sitting within a couple of feet of one another for days on end in a vehicle filled with crap on your way to the unknown.
But mainly it’s just beautiful and in love.
Cut down to the west of Missoula, through the Lolo Forest, curve into Idaho, past the lake at Coeur d’Alene, to Spokane for lunch overlooking the falls, recommended by the Montana glassblowers. Into the desert of western Washington, slashed through by the Columbia River, the Wild Horses Monument forever stampeding to the edge of a hill, through the petrified gingkoes, to where it gets green again, the Cascades the last hurdle before we are finally over to the coast.
Idaho digression: rest stop ground squirrel chaos. We pull out to a forested spot where very many little squirrels are flitting all about the shrubs and garbage cans. Not just flitting; more like running amok. And not just on the ground, but on the people who are kneeling down and feeding them out of their hands and have them crawling all over their laps and are begging at their feet. As one father said of his twelve year old son covered in rodents: “he’s like the squirrel whisperer!” Bleck! You would need to be fully Lysol-ed before we let you back in our vehicle.
Zoom Info
Switching to our last time zone! Pacific Standard Time helps us shave an hour off our pretty long haul between Montana and our next destination: Seattle, Washington. Surprisingly, we are not all that phased by the eleven hours in the car… all our points of reference for a reasonable driving time got lost somewhere back on a Midwestern road. This capacity to sit within a couple feet of one another with so much land flying by for long periods of times feels liberating, realizing our flexibility to cross long distances with little planning and a whim. We start to talk about what we’ll do when we’re back in Philadelphia: where are the nearest national parks for our season pass, and what hiking might be easy, and how weekends in the autumn could be spent camping, and a couple hour drive is nothing at all at this point, so how much exploring could we do in our free time?
There are also some stretches of road during which we annoy each other to no end, the mile markers filled with memories of discontent, made all the more frustrating by the fact that we are on vacation and should be enjoying ourselves! Another byproduct of sitting within a couple of feet of one another for days on end in a vehicle filled with crap on your way to the unknown.
But mainly it’s just beautiful and in love.
Cut down to the west of Missoula, through the Lolo Forest, curve into Idaho, past the lake at Coeur d’Alene, to Spokane for lunch overlooking the falls, recommended by the Montana glassblowers. Into the desert of western Washington, slashed through by the Columbia River, the Wild Horses Monument forever stampeding to the edge of a hill, through the petrified gingkoes, to where it gets green again, the Cascades the last hurdle before we are finally over to the coast.
Idaho digression: rest stop ground squirrel chaos. We pull out to a forested spot where very many little squirrels are flitting all about the shrubs and garbage cans. Not just flitting; more like running amok. And not just on the ground, but on the people who are kneeling down and feeding them out of their hands and have them crawling all over their laps and are begging at their feet. As one father said of his twelve year old son covered in rodents: “he’s like the squirrel whisperer!” Bleck! You would need to be fully Lysol-ed before we let you back in our vehicle.
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Switching to our last time zone! Pacific Standard Time helps us shave an hour off our pretty long haul between Montana and our next destination: Seattle, Washington. Surprisingly, we are not all that phased by the eleven hours in the car… all our points of reference for a reasonable driving time got lost somewhere back on a Midwestern road. This capacity to sit within a couple feet of one another with so much land flying by for long periods of times feels liberating, realizing our flexibility to cross long distances with little planning and a whim. We start to talk about what we’ll do when we’re back in Philadelphia: where are the nearest national parks for our season pass, and what hiking might be easy, and how weekends in the autumn could be spent camping, and a couple hour drive is nothing at all at this point, so how much exploring could we do in our free time?

There are also some stretches of road during which we annoy each other to no end, the mile markers filled with memories of discontent, made all the more frustrating by the fact that we are on vacation and should be enjoying ourselves! Another byproduct of sitting within a couple of feet of one another for days on end in a vehicle filled with crap on your way to the unknown.

But mainly it’s just beautiful and in love.

Cut down to the west of Missoula, through the Lolo Forest, curve into Idaho, past the lake at Coeur d’Alene, to Spokane for lunch overlooking the falls, recommended by the Montana glassblowers. Into the desert of western Washington, slashed through by the Columbia River, the Wild Horses Monument forever stampeding to the edge of a hill, through the petrified gingkoes, to where it gets green again, the Cascades the last hurdle before we are finally over to the coast.

Idaho digression: rest stop ground squirrel chaos. We pull out to a forested spot where very many little squirrels are flitting all about the shrubs and garbage cans. Not just flitting; more like running amok. And not just on the ground, but on the people who are kneeling down and feeding them out of their hands and have them crawling all over their laps and are begging at their feet. As one father said of his twelve year old son covered in rodents: “he’s like the squirrel whisperer!” Bleck! You would need to be fully Lysol-ed before we let you back in our vehicle.

Seattle: conjuring thoughts of salmon and overcast cleansing rain and the first CDs I owned in the nineties (including the Singles soundtrack) and Canada. All this way to the Northwest corner of the country and it’s sunny and feels familiar in the late afternoon sun, like the west coast and coming home. It was a choice between San Diego and Seattle when I was relocating to one corner of the country or the other for AmeriCorps eleven years ago. San Diego and palm trees won over the rumored Seattle steady downpour, and this was the first visit to this alternate reality.  
And also the first meeting of my first cousin once removed on my mother’s side! Dave is the twin brother of Lenny, who we met in Indianapolis during the first week of our adventure (and who I thought was actually my second cousin, but we’ve gotten our genealogical terms sorted out). After passing through Idaho and eastern Washington we were welcomed to the city by Dave and Laurie, who put us up for three nights and showed us all over town. We had an amazing time and are very grateful and so glad to have met you both!
Our first night we wandered through a fish festival in Ballard, a section of Seattle in the northwest part of the city. We ate bacon-wrapped scallop tacos and beef brisket sliders and local ice cream with fresh strawberries and visited the beach, packed with frolicking folks celebrating the infrequent sun.
Much needed sleep and the next day off to the Seattle Center, where we hoped to ride right up to the top of the rotating Space Needle and sip on martinis overlooking the city like its space age promise would suggest we do. It all reminded us of James Bond and Epcot. Instead, greeted by long lines, exorbitant prices, and the reality that there was no bar up there, only really expensive brunch that was booked for the day and we could call for a cancellation tomorrow. Boo. Who needs spinning discs in the sky? Not us.
We heard Laurie perform at a pop up poetry reading with Willie Smith, an unpublicized event, whose audience of consisted of us plus Willie’s wife.  Pretty fun to have a personal reading while the authors themselves seemed to be desperate for the time to be over, reading in the heavy wind with squawking birds and airplanes almost drowning out their words. Still don’t know what happened at the end of that communist dog story… minds fill in the blanks.
Laurie was our guide for the rest of the day, taking us over to Pike Place Market, sampling mega-juicy peaches and gawking at gigantic shrimp and buying some scotch-ale washed cheese from Mt. Townsend Creamery, followed by a delicious seafood chowder smorgasbord at Pike Place Chowder.
Next to the Seattle Art Museum and a great exhibit on Aboriginal art that we spent much more time at than expected, loving the patterns and mapmaking, especially since we spend so much of our time now thinking in maps and weaving patterns of road.
That night, Dave made us his famous deep dish pizza, smothered in veggies, delicious.
Zoom Info
Seattle: conjuring thoughts of salmon and overcast cleansing rain and the first CDs I owned in the nineties (including the Singles soundtrack) and Canada. All this way to the Northwest corner of the country and it’s sunny and feels familiar in the late afternoon sun, like the west coast and coming home. It was a choice between San Diego and Seattle when I was relocating to one corner of the country or the other for AmeriCorps eleven years ago. San Diego and palm trees won over the rumored Seattle steady downpour, and this was the first visit to this alternate reality.  
And also the first meeting of my first cousin once removed on my mother’s side! Dave is the twin brother of Lenny, who we met in Indianapolis during the first week of our adventure (and who I thought was actually my second cousin, but we’ve gotten our genealogical terms sorted out). After passing through Idaho and eastern Washington we were welcomed to the city by Dave and Laurie, who put us up for three nights and showed us all over town. We had an amazing time and are very grateful and so glad to have met you both!
Our first night we wandered through a fish festival in Ballard, a section of Seattle in the northwest part of the city. We ate bacon-wrapped scallop tacos and beef brisket sliders and local ice cream with fresh strawberries and visited the beach, packed with frolicking folks celebrating the infrequent sun.
Much needed sleep and the next day off to the Seattle Center, where we hoped to ride right up to the top of the rotating Space Needle and sip on martinis overlooking the city like its space age promise would suggest we do. It all reminded us of James Bond and Epcot. Instead, greeted by long lines, exorbitant prices, and the reality that there was no bar up there, only really expensive brunch that was booked for the day and we could call for a cancellation tomorrow. Boo. Who needs spinning discs in the sky? Not us.
We heard Laurie perform at a pop up poetry reading with Willie Smith, an unpublicized event, whose audience of consisted of us plus Willie’s wife.  Pretty fun to have a personal reading while the authors themselves seemed to be desperate for the time to be over, reading in the heavy wind with squawking birds and airplanes almost drowning out their words. Still don’t know what happened at the end of that communist dog story… minds fill in the blanks.
Laurie was our guide for the rest of the day, taking us over to Pike Place Market, sampling mega-juicy peaches and gawking at gigantic shrimp and buying some scotch-ale washed cheese from Mt. Townsend Creamery, followed by a delicious seafood chowder smorgasbord at Pike Place Chowder.
Next to the Seattle Art Museum and a great exhibit on Aboriginal art that we spent much more time at than expected, loving the patterns and mapmaking, especially since we spend so much of our time now thinking in maps and weaving patterns of road.
That night, Dave made us his famous deep dish pizza, smothered in veggies, delicious.
Zoom Info
Seattle: conjuring thoughts of salmon and overcast cleansing rain and the first CDs I owned in the nineties (including the Singles soundtrack) and Canada. All this way to the Northwest corner of the country and it’s sunny and feels familiar in the late afternoon sun, like the west coast and coming home. It was a choice between San Diego and Seattle when I was relocating to one corner of the country or the other for AmeriCorps eleven years ago. San Diego and palm trees won over the rumored Seattle steady downpour, and this was the first visit to this alternate reality.  
And also the first meeting of my first cousin once removed on my mother’s side! Dave is the twin brother of Lenny, who we met in Indianapolis during the first week of our adventure (and who I thought was actually my second cousin, but we’ve gotten our genealogical terms sorted out). After passing through Idaho and eastern Washington we were welcomed to the city by Dave and Laurie, who put us up for three nights and showed us all over town. We had an amazing time and are very grateful and so glad to have met you both!
Our first night we wandered through a fish festival in Ballard, a section of Seattle in the northwest part of the city. We ate bacon-wrapped scallop tacos and beef brisket sliders and local ice cream with fresh strawberries and visited the beach, packed with frolicking folks celebrating the infrequent sun.
Much needed sleep and the next day off to the Seattle Center, where we hoped to ride right up to the top of the rotating Space Needle and sip on martinis overlooking the city like its space age promise would suggest we do. It all reminded us of James Bond and Epcot. Instead, greeted by long lines, exorbitant prices, and the reality that there was no bar up there, only really expensive brunch that was booked for the day and we could call for a cancellation tomorrow. Boo. Who needs spinning discs in the sky? Not us.
We heard Laurie perform at a pop up poetry reading with Willie Smith, an unpublicized event, whose audience of consisted of us plus Willie’s wife.  Pretty fun to have a personal reading while the authors themselves seemed to be desperate for the time to be over, reading in the heavy wind with squawking birds and airplanes almost drowning out their words. Still don’t know what happened at the end of that communist dog story… minds fill in the blanks.
Laurie was our guide for the rest of the day, taking us over to Pike Place Market, sampling mega-juicy peaches and gawking at gigantic shrimp and buying some scotch-ale washed cheese from Mt. Townsend Creamery, followed by a delicious seafood chowder smorgasbord at Pike Place Chowder.
Next to the Seattle Art Museum and a great exhibit on Aboriginal art that we spent much more time at than expected, loving the patterns and mapmaking, especially since we spend so much of our time now thinking in maps and weaving patterns of road.
That night, Dave made us his famous deep dish pizza, smothered in veggies, delicious.
Zoom Info
Seattle: conjuring thoughts of salmon and overcast cleansing rain and the first CDs I owned in the nineties (including the Singles soundtrack) and Canada. All this way to the Northwest corner of the country and it’s sunny and feels familiar in the late afternoon sun, like the west coast and coming home. It was a choice between San Diego and Seattle when I was relocating to one corner of the country or the other for AmeriCorps eleven years ago. San Diego and palm trees won over the rumored Seattle steady downpour, and this was the first visit to this alternate reality.  
And also the first meeting of my first cousin once removed on my mother’s side! Dave is the twin brother of Lenny, who we met in Indianapolis during the first week of our adventure (and who I thought was actually my second cousin, but we’ve gotten our genealogical terms sorted out). After passing through Idaho and eastern Washington we were welcomed to the city by Dave and Laurie, who put us up for three nights and showed us all over town. We had an amazing time and are very grateful and so glad to have met you both!
Our first night we wandered through a fish festival in Ballard, a section of Seattle in the northwest part of the city. We ate bacon-wrapped scallop tacos and beef brisket sliders and local ice cream with fresh strawberries and visited the beach, packed with frolicking folks celebrating the infrequent sun.
Much needed sleep and the next day off to the Seattle Center, where we hoped to ride right up to the top of the rotating Space Needle and sip on martinis overlooking the city like its space age promise would suggest we do. It all reminded us of James Bond and Epcot. Instead, greeted by long lines, exorbitant prices, and the reality that there was no bar up there, only really expensive brunch that was booked for the day and we could call for a cancellation tomorrow. Boo. Who needs spinning discs in the sky? Not us.
We heard Laurie perform at a pop up poetry reading with Willie Smith, an unpublicized event, whose audience of consisted of us plus Willie’s wife.  Pretty fun to have a personal reading while the authors themselves seemed to be desperate for the time to be over, reading in the heavy wind with squawking birds and airplanes almost drowning out their words. Still don’t know what happened at the end of that communist dog story… minds fill in the blanks.
Laurie was our guide for the rest of the day, taking us over to Pike Place Market, sampling mega-juicy peaches and gawking at gigantic shrimp and buying some scotch-ale washed cheese from Mt. Townsend Creamery, followed by a delicious seafood chowder smorgasbord at Pike Place Chowder.
Next to the Seattle Art Museum and a great exhibit on Aboriginal art that we spent much more time at than expected, loving the patterns and mapmaking, especially since we spend so much of our time now thinking in maps and weaving patterns of road.
That night, Dave made us his famous deep dish pizza, smothered in veggies, delicious.
Zoom Info
Seattle: conjuring thoughts of salmon and overcast cleansing rain and the first CDs I owned in the nineties (including the Singles soundtrack) and Canada. All this way to the Northwest corner of the country and it’s sunny and feels familiar in the late afternoon sun, like the west coast and coming home. It was a choice between San Diego and Seattle when I was relocating to one corner of the country or the other for AmeriCorps eleven years ago. San Diego and palm trees won over the rumored Seattle steady downpour, and this was the first visit to this alternate reality.  
And also the first meeting of my first cousin once removed on my mother’s side! Dave is the twin brother of Lenny, who we met in Indianapolis during the first week of our adventure (and who I thought was actually my second cousin, but we’ve gotten our genealogical terms sorted out). After passing through Idaho and eastern Washington we were welcomed to the city by Dave and Laurie, who put us up for three nights and showed us all over town. We had an amazing time and are very grateful and so glad to have met you both!
Our first night we wandered through a fish festival in Ballard, a section of Seattle in the northwest part of the city. We ate bacon-wrapped scallop tacos and beef brisket sliders and local ice cream with fresh strawberries and visited the beach, packed with frolicking folks celebrating the infrequent sun.
Much needed sleep and the next day off to the Seattle Center, where we hoped to ride right up to the top of the rotating Space Needle and sip on martinis overlooking the city like its space age promise would suggest we do. It all reminded us of James Bond and Epcot. Instead, greeted by long lines, exorbitant prices, and the reality that there was no bar up there, only really expensive brunch that was booked for the day and we could call for a cancellation tomorrow. Boo. Who needs spinning discs in the sky? Not us.
We heard Laurie perform at a pop up poetry reading with Willie Smith, an unpublicized event, whose audience of consisted of us plus Willie’s wife.  Pretty fun to have a personal reading while the authors themselves seemed to be desperate for the time to be over, reading in the heavy wind with squawking birds and airplanes almost drowning out their words. Still don’t know what happened at the end of that communist dog story… minds fill in the blanks.
Laurie was our guide for the rest of the day, taking us over to Pike Place Market, sampling mega-juicy peaches and gawking at gigantic shrimp and buying some scotch-ale washed cheese from Mt. Townsend Creamery, followed by a delicious seafood chowder smorgasbord at Pike Place Chowder.
Next to the Seattle Art Museum and a great exhibit on Aboriginal art that we spent much more time at than expected, loving the patterns and mapmaking, especially since we spend so much of our time now thinking in maps and weaving patterns of road.
That night, Dave made us his famous deep dish pizza, smothered in veggies, delicious.
Zoom Info
Seattle: conjuring thoughts of salmon and overcast cleansing rain and the first CDs I owned in the nineties (including the Singles soundtrack) and Canada. All this way to the Northwest corner of the country and it’s sunny and feels familiar in the late afternoon sun, like the west coast and coming home. It was a choice between San Diego and Seattle when I was relocating to one corner of the country or the other for AmeriCorps eleven years ago. San Diego and palm trees won over the rumored Seattle steady downpour, and this was the first visit to this alternate reality.  
And also the first meeting of my first cousin once removed on my mother’s side! Dave is the twin brother of Lenny, who we met in Indianapolis during the first week of our adventure (and who I thought was actually my second cousin, but we’ve gotten our genealogical terms sorted out). After passing through Idaho and eastern Washington we were welcomed to the city by Dave and Laurie, who put us up for three nights and showed us all over town. We had an amazing time and are very grateful and so glad to have met you both!
Our first night we wandered through a fish festival in Ballard, a section of Seattle in the northwest part of the city. We ate bacon-wrapped scallop tacos and beef brisket sliders and local ice cream with fresh strawberries and visited the beach, packed with frolicking folks celebrating the infrequent sun.
Much needed sleep and the next day off to the Seattle Center, where we hoped to ride right up to the top of the rotating Space Needle and sip on martinis overlooking the city like its space age promise would suggest we do. It all reminded us of James Bond and Epcot. Instead, greeted by long lines, exorbitant prices, and the reality that there was no bar up there, only really expensive brunch that was booked for the day and we could call for a cancellation tomorrow. Boo. Who needs spinning discs in the sky? Not us.
We heard Laurie perform at a pop up poetry reading with Willie Smith, an unpublicized event, whose audience of consisted of us plus Willie’s wife.  Pretty fun to have a personal reading while the authors themselves seemed to be desperate for the time to be over, reading in the heavy wind with squawking birds and airplanes almost drowning out their words. Still don’t know what happened at the end of that communist dog story… minds fill in the blanks.
Laurie was our guide for the rest of the day, taking us over to Pike Place Market, sampling mega-juicy peaches and gawking at gigantic shrimp and buying some scotch-ale washed cheese from Mt. Townsend Creamery, followed by a delicious seafood chowder smorgasbord at Pike Place Chowder.
Next to the Seattle Art Museum and a great exhibit on Aboriginal art that we spent much more time at than expected, loving the patterns and mapmaking, especially since we spend so much of our time now thinking in maps and weaving patterns of road.
That night, Dave made us his famous deep dish pizza, smothered in veggies, delicious.
Zoom Info
Seattle: conjuring thoughts of salmon and overcast cleansing rain and the first CDs I owned in the nineties (including the Singles soundtrack) and Canada. All this way to the Northwest corner of the country and it’s sunny and feels familiar in the late afternoon sun, like the west coast and coming home. It was a choice between San Diego and Seattle when I was relocating to one corner of the country or the other for AmeriCorps eleven years ago. San Diego and palm trees won over the rumored Seattle steady downpour, and this was the first visit to this alternate reality.  
And also the first meeting of my first cousin once removed on my mother’s side! Dave is the twin brother of Lenny, who we met in Indianapolis during the first week of our adventure (and who I thought was actually my second cousin, but we’ve gotten our genealogical terms sorted out). After passing through Idaho and eastern Washington we were welcomed to the city by Dave and Laurie, who put us up for three nights and showed us all over town. We had an amazing time and are very grateful and so glad to have met you both!
Our first night we wandered through a fish festival in Ballard, a section of Seattle in the northwest part of the city. We ate bacon-wrapped scallop tacos and beef brisket sliders and local ice cream with fresh strawberries and visited the beach, packed with frolicking folks celebrating the infrequent sun.
Much needed sleep and the next day off to the Seattle Center, where we hoped to ride right up to the top of the rotating Space Needle and sip on martinis overlooking the city like its space age promise would suggest we do. It all reminded us of James Bond and Epcot. Instead, greeted by long lines, exorbitant prices, and the reality that there was no bar up there, only really expensive brunch that was booked for the day and we could call for a cancellation tomorrow. Boo. Who needs spinning discs in the sky? Not us.
We heard Laurie perform at a pop up poetry reading with Willie Smith, an unpublicized event, whose audience of consisted of us plus Willie’s wife.  Pretty fun to have a personal reading while the authors themselves seemed to be desperate for the time to be over, reading in the heavy wind with squawking birds and airplanes almost drowning out their words. Still don’t know what happened at the end of that communist dog story… minds fill in the blanks.
Laurie was our guide for the rest of the day, taking us over to Pike Place Market, sampling mega-juicy peaches and gawking at gigantic shrimp and buying some scotch-ale washed cheese from Mt. Townsend Creamery, followed by a delicious seafood chowder smorgasbord at Pike Place Chowder.
Next to the Seattle Art Museum and a great exhibit on Aboriginal art that we spent much more time at than expected, loving the patterns and mapmaking, especially since we spend so much of our time now thinking in maps and weaving patterns of road.
That night, Dave made us his famous deep dish pizza, smothered in veggies, delicious.
Zoom Info
Seattle: conjuring thoughts of salmon and overcast cleansing rain and the first CDs I owned in the nineties (including the Singles soundtrack) and Canada. All this way to the Northwest corner of the country and it’s sunny and feels familiar in the late afternoon sun, like the west coast and coming home. It was a choice between San Diego and Seattle when I was relocating to one corner of the country or the other for AmeriCorps eleven years ago. San Diego and palm trees won over the rumored Seattle steady downpour, and this was the first visit to this alternate reality.  
And also the first meeting of my first cousin once removed on my mother’s side! Dave is the twin brother of Lenny, who we met in Indianapolis during the first week of our adventure (and who I thought was actually my second cousin, but we’ve gotten our genealogical terms sorted out). After passing through Idaho and eastern Washington we were welcomed to the city by Dave and Laurie, who put us up for three nights and showed us all over town. We had an amazing time and are very grateful and so glad to have met you both!
Our first night we wandered through a fish festival in Ballard, a section of Seattle in the northwest part of the city. We ate bacon-wrapped scallop tacos and beef brisket sliders and local ice cream with fresh strawberries and visited the beach, packed with frolicking folks celebrating the infrequent sun.
Much needed sleep and the next day off to the Seattle Center, where we hoped to ride right up to the top of the rotating Space Needle and sip on martinis overlooking the city like its space age promise would suggest we do. It all reminded us of James Bond and Epcot. Instead, greeted by long lines, exorbitant prices, and the reality that there was no bar up there, only really expensive brunch that was booked for the day and we could call for a cancellation tomorrow. Boo. Who needs spinning discs in the sky? Not us.
We heard Laurie perform at a pop up poetry reading with Willie Smith, an unpublicized event, whose audience of consisted of us plus Willie’s wife.  Pretty fun to have a personal reading while the authors themselves seemed to be desperate for the time to be over, reading in the heavy wind with squawking birds and airplanes almost drowning out their words. Still don’t know what happened at the end of that communist dog story… minds fill in the blanks.
Laurie was our guide for the rest of the day, taking us over to Pike Place Market, sampling mega-juicy peaches and gawking at gigantic shrimp and buying some scotch-ale washed cheese from Mt. Townsend Creamery, followed by a delicious seafood chowder smorgasbord at Pike Place Chowder.
Next to the Seattle Art Museum and a great exhibit on Aboriginal art that we spent much more time at than expected, loving the patterns and mapmaking, especially since we spend so much of our time now thinking in maps and weaving patterns of road.
That night, Dave made us his famous deep dish pizza, smothered in veggies, delicious.
Zoom Info
Seattle: conjuring thoughts of salmon and overcast cleansing rain and the first CDs I owned in the nineties (including the Singles soundtrack) and Canada. All this way to the Northwest corner of the country and it’s sunny and feels familiar in the late afternoon sun, like the west coast and coming home. It was a choice between San Diego and Seattle when I was relocating to one corner of the country or the other for AmeriCorps eleven years ago. San Diego and palm trees won over the rumored Seattle steady downpour, and this was the first visit to this alternate reality.  
And also the first meeting of my first cousin once removed on my mother’s side! Dave is the twin brother of Lenny, who we met in Indianapolis during the first week of our adventure (and who I thought was actually my second cousin, but we’ve gotten our genealogical terms sorted out). After passing through Idaho and eastern Washington we were welcomed to the city by Dave and Laurie, who put us up for three nights and showed us all over town. We had an amazing time and are very grateful and so glad to have met you both!
Our first night we wandered through a fish festival in Ballard, a section of Seattle in the northwest part of the city. We ate bacon-wrapped scallop tacos and beef brisket sliders and local ice cream with fresh strawberries and visited the beach, packed with frolicking folks celebrating the infrequent sun.
Much needed sleep and the next day off to the Seattle Center, where we hoped to ride right up to the top of the rotating Space Needle and sip on martinis overlooking the city like its space age promise would suggest we do. It all reminded us of James Bond and Epcot. Instead, greeted by long lines, exorbitant prices, and the reality that there was no bar up there, only really expensive brunch that was booked for the day and we could call for a cancellation tomorrow. Boo. Who needs spinning discs in the sky? Not us.
We heard Laurie perform at a pop up poetry reading with Willie Smith, an unpublicized event, whose audience of consisted of us plus Willie’s wife.  Pretty fun to have a personal reading while the authors themselves seemed to be desperate for the time to be over, reading in the heavy wind with squawking birds and airplanes almost drowning out their words. Still don’t know what happened at the end of that communist dog story… minds fill in the blanks.
Laurie was our guide for the rest of the day, taking us over to Pike Place Market, sampling mega-juicy peaches and gawking at gigantic shrimp and buying some scotch-ale washed cheese from Mt. Townsend Creamery, followed by a delicious seafood chowder smorgasbord at Pike Place Chowder.
Next to the Seattle Art Museum and a great exhibit on Aboriginal art that we spent much more time at than expected, loving the patterns and mapmaking, especially since we spend so much of our time now thinking in maps and weaving patterns of road.
That night, Dave made us his famous deep dish pizza, smothered in veggies, delicious.
Zoom Info
Seattle: conjuring thoughts of salmon and overcast cleansing rain and the first CDs I owned in the nineties (including the Singles soundtrack) and Canada. All this way to the Northwest corner of the country and it’s sunny and feels familiar in the late afternoon sun, like the west coast and coming home. It was a choice between San Diego and Seattle when I was relocating to one corner of the country or the other for AmeriCorps eleven years ago. San Diego and palm trees won over the rumored Seattle steady downpour, and this was the first visit to this alternate reality.  
And also the first meeting of my first cousin once removed on my mother’s side! Dave is the twin brother of Lenny, who we met in Indianapolis during the first week of our adventure (and who I thought was actually my second cousin, but we’ve gotten our genealogical terms sorted out). After passing through Idaho and eastern Washington we were welcomed to the city by Dave and Laurie, who put us up for three nights and showed us all over town. We had an amazing time and are very grateful and so glad to have met you both!
Our first night we wandered through a fish festival in Ballard, a section of Seattle in the northwest part of the city. We ate bacon-wrapped scallop tacos and beef brisket sliders and local ice cream with fresh strawberries and visited the beach, packed with frolicking folks celebrating the infrequent sun.
Much needed sleep and the next day off to the Seattle Center, where we hoped to ride right up to the top of the rotating Space Needle and sip on martinis overlooking the city like its space age promise would suggest we do. It all reminded us of James Bond and Epcot. Instead, greeted by long lines, exorbitant prices, and the reality that there was no bar up there, only really expensive brunch that was booked for the day and we could call for a cancellation tomorrow. Boo. Who needs spinning discs in the sky? Not us.
We heard Laurie perform at a pop up poetry reading with Willie Smith, an unpublicized event, whose audience of consisted of us plus Willie’s wife.  Pretty fun to have a personal reading while the authors themselves seemed to be desperate for the time to be over, reading in the heavy wind with squawking birds and airplanes almost drowning out their words. Still don’t know what happened at the end of that communist dog story… minds fill in the blanks.
Laurie was our guide for the rest of the day, taking us over to Pike Place Market, sampling mega-juicy peaches and gawking at gigantic shrimp and buying some scotch-ale washed cheese from Mt. Townsend Creamery, followed by a delicious seafood chowder smorgasbord at Pike Place Chowder.
Next to the Seattle Art Museum and a great exhibit on Aboriginal art that we spent much more time at than expected, loving the patterns and mapmaking, especially since we spend so much of our time now thinking in maps and weaving patterns of road.
That night, Dave made us his famous deep dish pizza, smothered in veggies, delicious.
Zoom Info

Seattle: conjuring thoughts of salmon and overcast cleansing rain and the first CDs I owned in the nineties (including the Singles soundtrack) and Canada. All this way to the Northwest corner of the country and it’s sunny and feels familiar in the late afternoon sun, like the west coast and coming home. It was a choice between San Diego and Seattle when I was relocating to one corner of the country or the other for AmeriCorps eleven years ago. San Diego and palm trees won over the rumored Seattle steady downpour, and this was the first visit to this alternate reality.  

And also the first meeting of my first cousin once removed on my mother’s side! Dave is the twin brother of Lenny, who we met in Indianapolis during the first week of our adventure (and who I thought was actually my second cousin, but we’ve gotten our genealogical terms sorted out). After passing through Idaho and eastern Washington we were welcomed to the city by Dave and Laurie, who put us up for three nights and showed us all over town. We had an amazing time and are very grateful and so glad to have met you both!

Our first night we wandered through a fish festival in Ballard, a section of Seattle in the northwest part of the city. We ate bacon-wrapped scallop tacos and beef brisket sliders and local ice cream with fresh strawberries and visited the beach, packed with frolicking folks celebrating the infrequent sun.

Much needed sleep and the next day off to the Seattle Center, where we hoped to ride right up to the top of the rotating Space Needle and sip on martinis overlooking the city like its space age promise would suggest we do. It all reminded us of James Bond and Epcot. Instead, greeted by long lines, exorbitant prices, and the reality that there was no bar up there, only really expensive brunch that was booked for the day and we could call for a cancellation tomorrow. Boo. Who needs spinning discs in the sky? Not us.

We heard Laurie perform at a pop up poetry reading with Willie Smith, an unpublicized event, whose audience of consisted of us plus Willie’s wife.  Pretty fun to have a personal reading while the authors themselves seemed to be desperate for the time to be over, reading in the heavy wind with squawking birds and airplanes almost drowning out their words. Still don’t know what happened at the end of that communist dog story… minds fill in the blanks.

Laurie was our guide for the rest of the day, taking us over to Pike Place Market, sampling mega-juicy peaches and gawking at gigantic shrimp and buying some scotch-ale washed cheese from Mt. Townsend Creamery, followed by a delicious seafood chowder smorgasbord at Pike Place Chowder.

Next to the Seattle Art Museum and a great exhibit on Aboriginal art that we spent much more time at than expected, loving the patterns and mapmaking, especially since we spend so much of our time now thinking in maps and weaving patterns of road.

That night, Dave made us his famous deep dish pizza, smothered in veggies, delicious.

The last operational Panel Final Frame in action!!!

Another sunny cool and warm day, perfect for tripping through the Olympic Sculpture Park (literally tripping, my clumsiness finally rearing its ugly head, or at least causing me to skin my knee) and seeing some art outside with the water and city frames (especially loved the Richard Serra Wake). We took the ferry passage to Bainbridge Island, with windy sun knotting our hair and picture postcards of the city piling itself up to the harbor edge as we leave our wake behind. Took a walk through the cute town up to an old time Madison Diner with absolutely delicious food and browsed through a thrift store before returning to the city during a nap. Finish with a stop for delicious donuts per Erin’s suggestion at Top Pot. Yum. Want these now thinking back on it.
Ballard Locks, watching seafaring vessels go up and down in drained then filled pools, everyone keeping on their way forward in the water. It’s where salt meets freshwater and where salmon and other fish jump up the bridge, fighting upstream, with pretty viewing spots for us to look at them all scramble.
On our way out Tuesday morning, we got the chance to visit Dave at the Museum of Communications, an ode to the telephone and circuits and ways to talk across the distance. A mess of wires and stuff, the equipment really works and Joe and I called each other on old timey phones through what is the last operational Panel Final Frame! Dave gave us a great tour where we learned a lot really quick, including how to use a switchboard like you see in the black and white movies, and all about party lines and ringer locations. Something to be said for a real landline phone. We’ll look into it.
Zoom Info
Another sunny cool and warm day, perfect for tripping through the Olympic Sculpture Park (literally tripping, my clumsiness finally rearing its ugly head, or at least causing me to skin my knee) and seeing some art outside with the water and city frames (especially loved the Richard Serra Wake). We took the ferry passage to Bainbridge Island, with windy sun knotting our hair and picture postcards of the city piling itself up to the harbor edge as we leave our wake behind. Took a walk through the cute town up to an old time Madison Diner with absolutely delicious food and browsed through a thrift store before returning to the city during a nap. Finish with a stop for delicious donuts per Erin’s suggestion at Top Pot. Yum. Want these now thinking back on it.
Ballard Locks, watching seafaring vessels go up and down in drained then filled pools, everyone keeping on their way forward in the water. It’s where salt meets freshwater and where salmon and other fish jump up the bridge, fighting upstream, with pretty viewing spots for us to look at them all scramble.
On our way out Tuesday morning, we got the chance to visit Dave at the Museum of Communications, an ode to the telephone and circuits and ways to talk across the distance. A mess of wires and stuff, the equipment really works and Joe and I called each other on old timey phones through what is the last operational Panel Final Frame! Dave gave us a great tour where we learned a lot really quick, including how to use a switchboard like you see in the black and white movies, and all about party lines and ringer locations. Something to be said for a real landline phone. We’ll look into it.
Zoom Info
Another sunny cool and warm day, perfect for tripping through the Olympic Sculpture Park (literally tripping, my clumsiness finally rearing its ugly head, or at least causing me to skin my knee) and seeing some art outside with the water and city frames (especially loved the Richard Serra Wake). We took the ferry passage to Bainbridge Island, with windy sun knotting our hair and picture postcards of the city piling itself up to the harbor edge as we leave our wake behind. Took a walk through the cute town up to an old time Madison Diner with absolutely delicious food and browsed through a thrift store before returning to the city during a nap. Finish with a stop for delicious donuts per Erin’s suggestion at Top Pot. Yum. Want these now thinking back on it.
Ballard Locks, watching seafaring vessels go up and down in drained then filled pools, everyone keeping on their way forward in the water. It’s where salt meets freshwater and where salmon and other fish jump up the bridge, fighting upstream, with pretty viewing spots for us to look at them all scramble.
On our way out Tuesday morning, we got the chance to visit Dave at the Museum of Communications, an ode to the telephone and circuits and ways to talk across the distance. A mess of wires and stuff, the equipment really works and Joe and I called each other on old timey phones through what is the last operational Panel Final Frame! Dave gave us a great tour where we learned a lot really quick, including how to use a switchboard like you see in the black and white movies, and all about party lines and ringer locations. Something to be said for a real landline phone. We’ll look into it.
Zoom Info
Another sunny cool and warm day, perfect for tripping through the Olympic Sculpture Park (literally tripping, my clumsiness finally rearing its ugly head, or at least causing me to skin my knee) and seeing some art outside with the water and city frames (especially loved the Richard Serra Wake). We took the ferry passage to Bainbridge Island, with windy sun knotting our hair and picture postcards of the city piling itself up to the harbor edge as we leave our wake behind. Took a walk through the cute town up to an old time Madison Diner with absolutely delicious food and browsed through a thrift store before returning to the city during a nap. Finish with a stop for delicious donuts per Erin’s suggestion at Top Pot. Yum. Want these now thinking back on it.
Ballard Locks, watching seafaring vessels go up and down in drained then filled pools, everyone keeping on their way forward in the water. It’s where salt meets freshwater and where salmon and other fish jump up the bridge, fighting upstream, with pretty viewing spots for us to look at them all scramble.
On our way out Tuesday morning, we got the chance to visit Dave at the Museum of Communications, an ode to the telephone and circuits and ways to talk across the distance. A mess of wires and stuff, the equipment really works and Joe and I called each other on old timey phones through what is the last operational Panel Final Frame! Dave gave us a great tour where we learned a lot really quick, including how to use a switchboard like you see in the black and white movies, and all about party lines and ringer locations. Something to be said for a real landline phone. We’ll look into it.
Zoom Info
Another sunny cool and warm day, perfect for tripping through the Olympic Sculpture Park (literally tripping, my clumsiness finally rearing its ugly head, or at least causing me to skin my knee) and seeing some art outside with the water and city frames (especially loved the Richard Serra Wake). We took the ferry passage to Bainbridge Island, with windy sun knotting our hair and picture postcards of the city piling itself up to the harbor edge as we leave our wake behind. Took a walk through the cute town up to an old time Madison Diner with absolutely delicious food and browsed through a thrift store before returning to the city during a nap. Finish with a stop for delicious donuts per Erin’s suggestion at Top Pot. Yum. Want these now thinking back on it.
Ballard Locks, watching seafaring vessels go up and down in drained then filled pools, everyone keeping on their way forward in the water. It’s where salt meets freshwater and where salmon and other fish jump up the bridge, fighting upstream, with pretty viewing spots for us to look at them all scramble.
On our way out Tuesday morning, we got the chance to visit Dave at the Museum of Communications, an ode to the telephone and circuits and ways to talk across the distance. A mess of wires and stuff, the equipment really works and Joe and I called each other on old timey phones through what is the last operational Panel Final Frame! Dave gave us a great tour where we learned a lot really quick, including how to use a switchboard like you see in the black and white movies, and all about party lines and ringer locations. Something to be said for a real landline phone. We’ll look into it.
Zoom Info
Another sunny cool and warm day, perfect for tripping through the Olympic Sculpture Park (literally tripping, my clumsiness finally rearing its ugly head, or at least causing me to skin my knee) and seeing some art outside with the water and city frames (especially loved the Richard Serra Wake). We took the ferry passage to Bainbridge Island, with windy sun knotting our hair and picture postcards of the city piling itself up to the harbor edge as we leave our wake behind. Took a walk through the cute town up to an old time Madison Diner with absolutely delicious food and browsed through a thrift store before returning to the city during a nap. Finish with a stop for delicious donuts per Erin’s suggestion at Top Pot. Yum. Want these now thinking back on it.
Ballard Locks, watching seafaring vessels go up and down in drained then filled pools, everyone keeping on their way forward in the water. It’s where salt meets freshwater and where salmon and other fish jump up the bridge, fighting upstream, with pretty viewing spots for us to look at them all scramble.
On our way out Tuesday morning, we got the chance to visit Dave at the Museum of Communications, an ode to the telephone and circuits and ways to talk across the distance. A mess of wires and stuff, the equipment really works and Joe and I called each other on old timey phones through what is the last operational Panel Final Frame! Dave gave us a great tour where we learned a lot really quick, including how to use a switchboard like you see in the black and white movies, and all about party lines and ringer locations. Something to be said for a real landline phone. We’ll look into it.
Zoom Info
Another sunny cool and warm day, perfect for tripping through the Olympic Sculpture Park (literally tripping, my clumsiness finally rearing its ugly head, or at least causing me to skin my knee) and seeing some art outside with the water and city frames (especially loved the Richard Serra Wake). We took the ferry passage to Bainbridge Island, with windy sun knotting our hair and picture postcards of the city piling itself up to the harbor edge as we leave our wake behind. Took a walk through the cute town up to an old time Madison Diner with absolutely delicious food and browsed through a thrift store before returning to the city during a nap. Finish with a stop for delicious donuts per Erin’s suggestion at Top Pot. Yum. Want these now thinking back on it.
Ballard Locks, watching seafaring vessels go up and down in drained then filled pools, everyone keeping on their way forward in the water. It’s where salt meets freshwater and where salmon and other fish jump up the bridge, fighting upstream, with pretty viewing spots for us to look at them all scramble.
On our way out Tuesday morning, we got the chance to visit Dave at the Museum of Communications, an ode to the telephone and circuits and ways to talk across the distance. A mess of wires and stuff, the equipment really works and Joe and I called each other on old timey phones through what is the last operational Panel Final Frame! Dave gave us a great tour where we learned a lot really quick, including how to use a switchboard like you see in the black and white movies, and all about party lines and ringer locations. Something to be said for a real landline phone. We’ll look into it.
Zoom Info
Another sunny cool and warm day, perfect for tripping through the Olympic Sculpture Park (literally tripping, my clumsiness finally rearing its ugly head, or at least causing me to skin my knee) and seeing some art outside with the water and city frames (especially loved the Richard Serra Wake). We took the ferry passage to Bainbridge Island, with windy sun knotting our hair and picture postcards of the city piling itself up to the harbor edge as we leave our wake behind. Took a walk through the cute town up to an old time Madison Diner with absolutely delicious food and browsed through a thrift store before returning to the city during a nap. Finish with a stop for delicious donuts per Erin’s suggestion at Top Pot. Yum. Want these now thinking back on it.
Ballard Locks, watching seafaring vessels go up and down in drained then filled pools, everyone keeping on their way forward in the water. It’s where salt meets freshwater and where salmon and other fish jump up the bridge, fighting upstream, with pretty viewing spots for us to look at them all scramble.
On our way out Tuesday morning, we got the chance to visit Dave at the Museum of Communications, an ode to the telephone and circuits and ways to talk across the distance. A mess of wires and stuff, the equipment really works and Joe and I called each other on old timey phones through what is the last operational Panel Final Frame! Dave gave us a great tour where we learned a lot really quick, including how to use a switchboard like you see in the black and white movies, and all about party lines and ringer locations. Something to be said for a real landline phone. We’ll look into it.
Zoom Info

Another sunny cool and warm day, perfect for tripping through the Olympic Sculpture Park (literally tripping, my clumsiness finally rearing its ugly head, or at least causing me to skin my knee) and seeing some art outside with the water and city frames (especially loved the Richard Serra Wake). We took the ferry passage to Bainbridge Island, with windy sun knotting our hair and picture postcards of the city piling itself up to the harbor edge as we leave our wake behind. Took a walk through the cute town up to an old time Madison Diner with absolutely delicious food and browsed through a thrift store before returning to the city during a nap. Finish with a stop for delicious donuts per Erin’s suggestion at Top Pot. Yum. Want these now thinking back on it.

Ballard Locks, watching seafaring vessels go up and down in drained then filled pools, everyone keeping on their way forward in the water. It’s where salt meets freshwater and where salmon and other fish jump up the bridge, fighting upstream, with pretty viewing spots for us to look at them all scramble.

On our way out Tuesday morning, we got the chance to visit Dave at the Museum of Communications, an ode to the telephone and circuits and ways to talk across the distance. A mess of wires and stuff, the equipment really works and Joe and I called each other on old timey phones through what is the last operational Panel Final Frame! Dave gave us a great tour where we learned a lot really quick, including how to use a switchboard like you see in the black and white movies, and all about party lines and ringer locations. Something to be said for a real landline phone. We’ll look into it.

Headed out to explore Western Montana and make our way north to Glacier National Park. Along the way: Wheat, MT makes some gosh darn good bread; and Jim and Terry are super friendly and make beautiful sculptures at Goose Bay Handblown Glass (thank you for the recommendations for the drive from Glacier to Seattle!); and a beautiful winding drive through rolling valleys and along huge lakes at the western edge of Flathead National Forest. We ate burgers out of a truck parked at the edge of Seeley Lake on some super green grass and soaked in the sun.
We were greeted at Glacier National Park with a whole lot of forest and mountains; also big scary bear warnings. One of the reasons we had avoided camping in Yellowstone was because we were a bit leery of bears about with all those campers and their smores’ graham cracker crumbs and who knows what enticing the wildlife to join the campfire. Now, here we sat in our car getting our campsite assignment at Fish Creek Campground with a warning to keep it clean because a black bear went through the camp the previous night. Being almost the only ones in tents in a land of RV enthusiasts, Joe felt we looked too much like pigs in a blanket waiting to be eaten, so no human food was going to be consumed on our little patch of rented earth for two nights.
Still, it was super pretty and amazing to be sleeping in a park that is 93% wild. Fish Creek Campground sits on the northwest portion of Lake McDonald and we took our first short hike there through some burned out areas that were growing back. Our hike was cut short by the realization that it was completely deserted and we ought not be messing around and maybe we needed to most definitely seek out this mythical bear spray we had been hearing about (which indeed does exist and is like pepper spray on steroids: a large canister meant to sit on the waist and be dispensed in the direction of hostile acting bear if it just won’t stop coming at you). Our path back was blocked by what we learned was a grouse that was not at all perturbed by our presence and cooled itself by burrowing into the dirt path and then relieving itself very loudly right in front of us. Nature!
Next, on to the Trail of the Cedars (any Harry Potter/Lords of the Ring/and/or fantasy game can be filled in here to explain that hushed and grand feeling of otherworldliness) with simple boardwalk path winding through ancient tree;, along water that diverts in its rush, lapping the trunks of trees and making islands; waterfall rushing with a bird swooping along its mini canyon currents over and over, making us jealous of the soaring game.
Dinner at the lodge for a meal and watch the sunset over the lake, drinking more local beer and debating whether or not to try the ever-advertised huckleberry pie (we never do).
Return to camp and our comfy tent for only a couple of hours before we are awoken and mentally plead with an approaching thunderstorm to just go away. And ever since we read that article on how to keep one’s self from being filled with lightning and potentially looking like this or being dead, we knew that staying in our little lightning rod hut was not a good idea, so into the car for the remainder of the night.
(continued below)
Zoom Info
Headed out to explore Western Montana and make our way north to Glacier National Park. Along the way: Wheat, MT makes some gosh darn good bread; and Jim and Terry are super friendly and make beautiful sculptures at Goose Bay Handblown Glass (thank you for the recommendations for the drive from Glacier to Seattle!); and a beautiful winding drive through rolling valleys and along huge lakes at the western edge of Flathead National Forest. We ate burgers out of a truck parked at the edge of Seeley Lake on some super green grass and soaked in the sun.
We were greeted at Glacier National Park with a whole lot of forest and mountains; also big scary bear warnings. One of the reasons we had avoided camping in Yellowstone was because we were a bit leery of bears about with all those campers and their smores’ graham cracker crumbs and who knows what enticing the wildlife to join the campfire. Now, here we sat in our car getting our campsite assignment at Fish Creek Campground with a warning to keep it clean because a black bear went through the camp the previous night. Being almost the only ones in tents in a land of RV enthusiasts, Joe felt we looked too much like pigs in a blanket waiting to be eaten, so no human food was going to be consumed on our little patch of rented earth for two nights.
Still, it was super pretty and amazing to be sleeping in a park that is 93% wild. Fish Creek Campground sits on the northwest portion of Lake McDonald and we took our first short hike there through some burned out areas that were growing back. Our hike was cut short by the realization that it was completely deserted and we ought not be messing around and maybe we needed to most definitely seek out this mythical bear spray we had been hearing about (which indeed does exist and is like pepper spray on steroids: a large canister meant to sit on the waist and be dispensed in the direction of hostile acting bear if it just won’t stop coming at you). Our path back was blocked by what we learned was a grouse that was not at all perturbed by our presence and cooled itself by burrowing into the dirt path and then relieving itself very loudly right in front of us. Nature!
Next, on to the Trail of the Cedars (any Harry Potter/Lords of the Ring/and/or fantasy game can be filled in here to explain that hushed and grand feeling of otherworldliness) with simple boardwalk path winding through ancient tree;, along water that diverts in its rush, lapping the trunks of trees and making islands; waterfall rushing with a bird swooping along its mini canyon currents over and over, making us jealous of the soaring game.
Dinner at the lodge for a meal and watch the sunset over the lake, drinking more local beer and debating whether or not to try the ever-advertised huckleberry pie (we never do).
Return to camp and our comfy tent for only a couple of hours before we are awoken and mentally plead with an approaching thunderstorm to just go away. And ever since we read that article on how to keep one’s self from being filled with lightning and potentially looking like this or being dead, we knew that staying in our little lightning rod hut was not a good idea, so into the car for the remainder of the night.
(continued below)
Zoom Info
Headed out to explore Western Montana and make our way north to Glacier National Park. Along the way: Wheat, MT makes some gosh darn good bread; and Jim and Terry are super friendly and make beautiful sculptures at Goose Bay Handblown Glass (thank you for the recommendations for the drive from Glacier to Seattle!); and a beautiful winding drive through rolling valleys and along huge lakes at the western edge of Flathead National Forest. We ate burgers out of a truck parked at the edge of Seeley Lake on some super green grass and soaked in the sun.
We were greeted at Glacier National Park with a whole lot of forest and mountains; also big scary bear warnings. One of the reasons we had avoided camping in Yellowstone was because we were a bit leery of bears about with all those campers and their smores’ graham cracker crumbs and who knows what enticing the wildlife to join the campfire. Now, here we sat in our car getting our campsite assignment at Fish Creek Campground with a warning to keep it clean because a black bear went through the camp the previous night. Being almost the only ones in tents in a land of RV enthusiasts, Joe felt we looked too much like pigs in a blanket waiting to be eaten, so no human food was going to be consumed on our little patch of rented earth for two nights.
Still, it was super pretty and amazing to be sleeping in a park that is 93% wild. Fish Creek Campground sits on the northwest portion of Lake McDonald and we took our first short hike there through some burned out areas that were growing back. Our hike was cut short by the realization that it was completely deserted and we ought not be messing around and maybe we needed to most definitely seek out this mythical bear spray we had been hearing about (which indeed does exist and is like pepper spray on steroids: a large canister meant to sit on the waist and be dispensed in the direction of hostile acting bear if it just won’t stop coming at you). Our path back was blocked by what we learned was a grouse that was not at all perturbed by our presence and cooled itself by burrowing into the dirt path and then relieving itself very loudly right in front of us. Nature!
Next, on to the Trail of the Cedars (any Harry Potter/Lords of the Ring/and/or fantasy game can be filled in here to explain that hushed and grand feeling of otherworldliness) with simple boardwalk path winding through ancient tree;, along water that diverts in its rush, lapping the trunks of trees and making islands; waterfall rushing with a bird swooping along its mini canyon currents over and over, making us jealous of the soaring game.
Dinner at the lodge for a meal and watch the sunset over the lake, drinking more local beer and debating whether or not to try the ever-advertised huckleberry pie (we never do).
Return to camp and our comfy tent for only a couple of hours before we are awoken and mentally plead with an approaching thunderstorm to just go away. And ever since we read that article on how to keep one’s self from being filled with lightning and potentially looking like this or being dead, we knew that staying in our little lightning rod hut was not a good idea, so into the car for the remainder of the night.
(continued below)
Zoom Info
Headed out to explore Western Montana and make our way north to Glacier National Park. Along the way: Wheat, MT makes some gosh darn good bread; and Jim and Terry are super friendly and make beautiful sculptures at Goose Bay Handblown Glass (thank you for the recommendations for the drive from Glacier to Seattle!); and a beautiful winding drive through rolling valleys and along huge lakes at the western edge of Flathead National Forest. We ate burgers out of a truck parked at the edge of Seeley Lake on some super green grass and soaked in the sun.
We were greeted at Glacier National Park with a whole lot of forest and mountains; also big scary bear warnings. One of the reasons we had avoided camping in Yellowstone was because we were a bit leery of bears about with all those campers and their smores’ graham cracker crumbs and who knows what enticing the wildlife to join the campfire. Now, here we sat in our car getting our campsite assignment at Fish Creek Campground with a warning to keep it clean because a black bear went through the camp the previous night. Being almost the only ones in tents in a land of RV enthusiasts, Joe felt we looked too much like pigs in a blanket waiting to be eaten, so no human food was going to be consumed on our little patch of rented earth for two nights.
Still, it was super pretty and amazing to be sleeping in a park that is 93% wild. Fish Creek Campground sits on the northwest portion of Lake McDonald and we took our first short hike there through some burned out areas that were growing back. Our hike was cut short by the realization that it was completely deserted and we ought not be messing around and maybe we needed to most definitely seek out this mythical bear spray we had been hearing about (which indeed does exist and is like pepper spray on steroids: a large canister meant to sit on the waist and be dispensed in the direction of hostile acting bear if it just won’t stop coming at you). Our path back was blocked by what we learned was a grouse that was not at all perturbed by our presence and cooled itself by burrowing into the dirt path and then relieving itself very loudly right in front of us. Nature!
Next, on to the Trail of the Cedars (any Harry Potter/Lords of the Ring/and/or fantasy game can be filled in here to explain that hushed and grand feeling of otherworldliness) with simple boardwalk path winding through ancient tree;, along water that diverts in its rush, lapping the trunks of trees and making islands; waterfall rushing with a bird swooping along its mini canyon currents over and over, making us jealous of the soaring game.
Dinner at the lodge for a meal and watch the sunset over the lake, drinking more local beer and debating whether or not to try the ever-advertised huckleberry pie (we never do).
Return to camp and our comfy tent for only a couple of hours before we are awoken and mentally plead with an approaching thunderstorm to just go away. And ever since we read that article on how to keep one’s self from being filled with lightning and potentially looking like this or being dead, we knew that staying in our little lightning rod hut was not a good idea, so into the car for the remainder of the night.
(continued below)
Zoom Info
Headed out to explore Western Montana and make our way north to Glacier National Park. Along the way: Wheat, MT makes some gosh darn good bread; and Jim and Terry are super friendly and make beautiful sculptures at Goose Bay Handblown Glass (thank you for the recommendations for the drive from Glacier to Seattle!); and a beautiful winding drive through rolling valleys and along huge lakes at the western edge of Flathead National Forest. We ate burgers out of a truck parked at the edge of Seeley Lake on some super green grass and soaked in the sun.
We were greeted at Glacier National Park with a whole lot of forest and mountains; also big scary bear warnings. One of the reasons we had avoided camping in Yellowstone was because we were a bit leery of bears about with all those campers and their smores’ graham cracker crumbs and who knows what enticing the wildlife to join the campfire. Now, here we sat in our car getting our campsite assignment at Fish Creek Campground with a warning to keep it clean because a black bear went through the camp the previous night. Being almost the only ones in tents in a land of RV enthusiasts, Joe felt we looked too much like pigs in a blanket waiting to be eaten, so no human food was going to be consumed on our little patch of rented earth for two nights.
Still, it was super pretty and amazing to be sleeping in a park that is 93% wild. Fish Creek Campground sits on the northwest portion of Lake McDonald and we took our first short hike there through some burned out areas that were growing back. Our hike was cut short by the realization that it was completely deserted and we ought not be messing around and maybe we needed to most definitely seek out this mythical bear spray we had been hearing about (which indeed does exist and is like pepper spray on steroids: a large canister meant to sit on the waist and be dispensed in the direction of hostile acting bear if it just won’t stop coming at you). Our path back was blocked by what we learned was a grouse that was not at all perturbed by our presence and cooled itself by burrowing into the dirt path and then relieving itself very loudly right in front of us. Nature!
Next, on to the Trail of the Cedars (any Harry Potter/Lords of the Ring/and/or fantasy game can be filled in here to explain that hushed and grand feeling of otherworldliness) with simple boardwalk path winding through ancient tree;, along water that diverts in its rush, lapping the trunks of trees and making islands; waterfall rushing with a bird swooping along its mini canyon currents over and over, making us jealous of the soaring game.
Dinner at the lodge for a meal and watch the sunset over the lake, drinking more local beer and debating whether or not to try the ever-advertised huckleberry pie (we never do).
Return to camp and our comfy tent for only a couple of hours before we are awoken and mentally plead with an approaching thunderstorm to just go away. And ever since we read that article on how to keep one’s self from being filled with lightning and potentially looking like this or being dead, we knew that staying in our little lightning rod hut was not a good idea, so into the car for the remainder of the night.
(continued below)
Zoom Info
Headed out to explore Western Montana and make our way north to Glacier National Park. Along the way: Wheat, MT makes some gosh darn good bread; and Jim and Terry are super friendly and make beautiful sculptures at Goose Bay Handblown Glass (thank you for the recommendations for the drive from Glacier to Seattle!); and a beautiful winding drive through rolling valleys and along huge lakes at the western edge of Flathead National Forest. We ate burgers out of a truck parked at the edge of Seeley Lake on some super green grass and soaked in the sun.
We were greeted at Glacier National Park with a whole lot of forest and mountains; also big scary bear warnings. One of the reasons we had avoided camping in Yellowstone was because we were a bit leery of bears about with all those campers and their smores’ graham cracker crumbs and who knows what enticing the wildlife to join the campfire. Now, here we sat in our car getting our campsite assignment at Fish Creek Campground with a warning to keep it clean because a black bear went through the camp the previous night. Being almost the only ones in tents in a land of RV enthusiasts, Joe felt we looked too much like pigs in a blanket waiting to be eaten, so no human food was going to be consumed on our little patch of rented earth for two nights.
Still, it was super pretty and amazing to be sleeping in a park that is 93% wild. Fish Creek Campground sits on the northwest portion of Lake McDonald and we took our first short hike there through some burned out areas that were growing back. Our hike was cut short by the realization that it was completely deserted and we ought not be messing around and maybe we needed to most definitely seek out this mythical bear spray we had been hearing about (which indeed does exist and is like pepper spray on steroids: a large canister meant to sit on the waist and be dispensed in the direction of hostile acting bear if it just won’t stop coming at you). Our path back was blocked by what we learned was a grouse that was not at all perturbed by our presence and cooled itself by burrowing into the dirt path and then relieving itself very loudly right in front of us. Nature!
Next, on to the Trail of the Cedars (any Harry Potter/Lords of the Ring/and/or fantasy game can be filled in here to explain that hushed and grand feeling of otherworldliness) with simple boardwalk path winding through ancient tree;, along water that diverts in its rush, lapping the trunks of trees and making islands; waterfall rushing with a bird swooping along its mini canyon currents over and over, making us jealous of the soaring game.
Dinner at the lodge for a meal and watch the sunset over the lake, drinking more local beer and debating whether or not to try the ever-advertised huckleberry pie (we never do).
Return to camp and our comfy tent for only a couple of hours before we are awoken and mentally plead with an approaching thunderstorm to just go away. And ever since we read that article on how to keep one’s self from being filled with lightning and potentially looking like this or being dead, we knew that staying in our little lightning rod hut was not a good idea, so into the car for the remainder of the night.
(continued below)
Zoom Info
Headed out to explore Western Montana and make our way north to Glacier National Park. Along the way: Wheat, MT makes some gosh darn good bread; and Jim and Terry are super friendly and make beautiful sculptures at Goose Bay Handblown Glass (thank you for the recommendations for the drive from Glacier to Seattle!); and a beautiful winding drive through rolling valleys and along huge lakes at the western edge of Flathead National Forest. We ate burgers out of a truck parked at the edge of Seeley Lake on some super green grass and soaked in the sun.
We were greeted at Glacier National Park with a whole lot of forest and mountains; also big scary bear warnings. One of the reasons we had avoided camping in Yellowstone was because we were a bit leery of bears about with all those campers and their smores’ graham cracker crumbs and who knows what enticing the wildlife to join the campfire. Now, here we sat in our car getting our campsite assignment at Fish Creek Campground with a warning to keep it clean because a black bear went through the camp the previous night. Being almost the only ones in tents in a land of RV enthusiasts, Joe felt we looked too much like pigs in a blanket waiting to be eaten, so no human food was going to be consumed on our little patch of rented earth for two nights.
Still, it was super pretty and amazing to be sleeping in a park that is 93% wild. Fish Creek Campground sits on the northwest portion of Lake McDonald and we took our first short hike there through some burned out areas that were growing back. Our hike was cut short by the realization that it was completely deserted and we ought not be messing around and maybe we needed to most definitely seek out this mythical bear spray we had been hearing about (which indeed does exist and is like pepper spray on steroids: a large canister meant to sit on the waist and be dispensed in the direction of hostile acting bear if it just won’t stop coming at you). Our path back was blocked by what we learned was a grouse that was not at all perturbed by our presence and cooled itself by burrowing into the dirt path and then relieving itself very loudly right in front of us. Nature!
Next, on to the Trail of the Cedars (any Harry Potter/Lords of the Ring/and/or fantasy game can be filled in here to explain that hushed and grand feeling of otherworldliness) with simple boardwalk path winding through ancient tree;, along water that diverts in its rush, lapping the trunks of trees and making islands; waterfall rushing with a bird swooping along its mini canyon currents over and over, making us jealous of the soaring game.
Dinner at the lodge for a meal and watch the sunset over the lake, drinking more local beer and debating whether or not to try the ever-advertised huckleberry pie (we never do).
Return to camp and our comfy tent for only a couple of hours before we are awoken and mentally plead with an approaching thunderstorm to just go away. And ever since we read that article on how to keep one’s self from being filled with lightning and potentially looking like this or being dead, we knew that staying in our little lightning rod hut was not a good idea, so into the car for the remainder of the night.
(continued below)
Zoom Info
Headed out to explore Western Montana and make our way north to Glacier National Park. Along the way: Wheat, MT makes some gosh darn good bread; and Jim and Terry are super friendly and make beautiful sculptures at Goose Bay Handblown Glass (thank you for the recommendations for the drive from Glacier to Seattle!); and a beautiful winding drive through rolling valleys and along huge lakes at the western edge of Flathead National Forest. We ate burgers out of a truck parked at the edge of Seeley Lake on some super green grass and soaked in the sun.
We were greeted at Glacier National Park with a whole lot of forest and mountains; also big scary bear warnings. One of the reasons we had avoided camping in Yellowstone was because we were a bit leery of bears about with all those campers and their smores’ graham cracker crumbs and who knows what enticing the wildlife to join the campfire. Now, here we sat in our car getting our campsite assignment at Fish Creek Campground with a warning to keep it clean because a black bear went through the camp the previous night. Being almost the only ones in tents in a land of RV enthusiasts, Joe felt we looked too much like pigs in a blanket waiting to be eaten, so no human food was going to be consumed on our little patch of rented earth for two nights.
Still, it was super pretty and amazing to be sleeping in a park that is 93% wild. Fish Creek Campground sits on the northwest portion of Lake McDonald and we took our first short hike there through some burned out areas that were growing back. Our hike was cut short by the realization that it was completely deserted and we ought not be messing around and maybe we needed to most definitely seek out this mythical bear spray we had been hearing about (which indeed does exist and is like pepper spray on steroids: a large canister meant to sit on the waist and be dispensed in the direction of hostile acting bear if it just won’t stop coming at you). Our path back was blocked by what we learned was a grouse that was not at all perturbed by our presence and cooled itself by burrowing into the dirt path and then relieving itself very loudly right in front of us. Nature!
Next, on to the Trail of the Cedars (any Harry Potter/Lords of the Ring/and/or fantasy game can be filled in here to explain that hushed and grand feeling of otherworldliness) with simple boardwalk path winding through ancient tree;, along water that diverts in its rush, lapping the trunks of trees and making islands; waterfall rushing with a bird swooping along its mini canyon currents over and over, making us jealous of the soaring game.
Dinner at the lodge for a meal and watch the sunset over the lake, drinking more local beer and debating whether or not to try the ever-advertised huckleberry pie (we never do).
Return to camp and our comfy tent for only a couple of hours before we are awoken and mentally plead with an approaching thunderstorm to just go away. And ever since we read that article on how to keep one’s self from being filled with lightning and potentially looking like this or being dead, we knew that staying in our little lightning rod hut was not a good idea, so into the car for the remainder of the night.
(continued below)
Zoom Info
Headed out to explore Western Montana and make our way north to Glacier National Park. Along the way: Wheat, MT makes some gosh darn good bread; and Jim and Terry are super friendly and make beautiful sculptures at Goose Bay Handblown Glass (thank you for the recommendations for the drive from Glacier to Seattle!); and a beautiful winding drive through rolling valleys and along huge lakes at the western edge of Flathead National Forest. We ate burgers out of a truck parked at the edge of Seeley Lake on some super green grass and soaked in the sun.
We were greeted at Glacier National Park with a whole lot of forest and mountains; also big scary bear warnings. One of the reasons we had avoided camping in Yellowstone was because we were a bit leery of bears about with all those campers and their smores’ graham cracker crumbs and who knows what enticing the wildlife to join the campfire. Now, here we sat in our car getting our campsite assignment at Fish Creek Campground with a warning to keep it clean because a black bear went through the camp the previous night. Being almost the only ones in tents in a land of RV enthusiasts, Joe felt we looked too much like pigs in a blanket waiting to be eaten, so no human food was going to be consumed on our little patch of rented earth for two nights.
Still, it was super pretty and amazing to be sleeping in a park that is 93% wild. Fish Creek Campground sits on the northwest portion of Lake McDonald and we took our first short hike there through some burned out areas that were growing back. Our hike was cut short by the realization that it was completely deserted and we ought not be messing around and maybe we needed to most definitely seek out this mythical bear spray we had been hearing about (which indeed does exist and is like pepper spray on steroids: a large canister meant to sit on the waist and be dispensed in the direction of hostile acting bear if it just won’t stop coming at you). Our path back was blocked by what we learned was a grouse that was not at all perturbed by our presence and cooled itself by burrowing into the dirt path and then relieving itself very loudly right in front of us. Nature!
Next, on to the Trail of the Cedars (any Harry Potter/Lords of the Ring/and/or fantasy game can be filled in here to explain that hushed and grand feeling of otherworldliness) with simple boardwalk path winding through ancient tree;, along water that diverts in its rush, lapping the trunks of trees and making islands; waterfall rushing with a bird swooping along its mini canyon currents over and over, making us jealous of the soaring game.
Dinner at the lodge for a meal and watch the sunset over the lake, drinking more local beer and debating whether or not to try the ever-advertised huckleberry pie (we never do).
Return to camp and our comfy tent for only a couple of hours before we are awoken and mentally plead with an approaching thunderstorm to just go away. And ever since we read that article on how to keep one’s self from being filled with lightning and potentially looking like this or being dead, we knew that staying in our little lightning rod hut was not a good idea, so into the car for the remainder of the night.
(continued below)
Zoom Info
Headed out to explore Western Montana and make our way north to Glacier National Park. Along the way: Wheat, MT makes some gosh darn good bread; and Jim and Terry are super friendly and make beautiful sculptures at Goose Bay Handblown Glass (thank you for the recommendations for the drive from Glacier to Seattle!); and a beautiful winding drive through rolling valleys and along huge lakes at the western edge of Flathead National Forest. We ate burgers out of a truck parked at the edge of Seeley Lake on some super green grass and soaked in the sun.
We were greeted at Glacier National Park with a whole lot of forest and mountains; also big scary bear warnings. One of the reasons we had avoided camping in Yellowstone was because we were a bit leery of bears about with all those campers and their smores’ graham cracker crumbs and who knows what enticing the wildlife to join the campfire. Now, here we sat in our car getting our campsite assignment at Fish Creek Campground with a warning to keep it clean because a black bear went through the camp the previous night. Being almost the only ones in tents in a land of RV enthusiasts, Joe felt we looked too much like pigs in a blanket waiting to be eaten, so no human food was going to be consumed on our little patch of rented earth for two nights.
Still, it was super pretty and amazing to be sleeping in a park that is 93% wild. Fish Creek Campground sits on the northwest portion of Lake McDonald and we took our first short hike there through some burned out areas that were growing back. Our hike was cut short by the realization that it was completely deserted and we ought not be messing around and maybe we needed to most definitely seek out this mythical bear spray we had been hearing about (which indeed does exist and is like pepper spray on steroids: a large canister meant to sit on the waist and be dispensed in the direction of hostile acting bear if it just won’t stop coming at you). Our path back was blocked by what we learned was a grouse that was not at all perturbed by our presence and cooled itself by burrowing into the dirt path and then relieving itself very loudly right in front of us. Nature!
Next, on to the Trail of the Cedars (any Harry Potter/Lords of the Ring/and/or fantasy game can be filled in here to explain that hushed and grand feeling of otherworldliness) with simple boardwalk path winding through ancient tree;, along water that diverts in its rush, lapping the trunks of trees and making islands; waterfall rushing with a bird swooping along its mini canyon currents over and over, making us jealous of the soaring game.
Dinner at the lodge for a meal and watch the sunset over the lake, drinking more local beer and debating whether or not to try the ever-advertised huckleberry pie (we never do).
Return to camp and our comfy tent for only a couple of hours before we are awoken and mentally plead with an approaching thunderstorm to just go away. And ever since we read that article on how to keep one’s self from being filled with lightning and potentially looking like this or being dead, we knew that staying in our little lightning rod hut was not a good idea, so into the car for the remainder of the night.
(continued below)
Zoom Info

Headed out to explore Western Montana and make our way north to Glacier National Park. Along the way: Wheat, MT makes some gosh darn good bread; and Jim and Terry are super friendly and make beautiful sculptures at Goose Bay Handblown Glass (thank you for the recommendations for the drive from Glacier to Seattle!); and a beautiful winding drive through rolling valleys and along huge lakes at the western edge of Flathead National Forest. We ate burgers out of a truck parked at the edge of Seeley Lake on some super green grass and soaked in the sun.

We were greeted at Glacier National Park with a whole lot of forest and mountains; also big scary bear warnings. One of the reasons we had avoided camping in Yellowstone was because we were a bit leery of bears about with all those campers and their smores’ graham cracker crumbs and who knows what enticing the wildlife to join the campfire. Now, here we sat in our car getting our campsite assignment at Fish Creek Campground with a warning to keep it clean because a black bear went through the camp the previous night. Being almost the only ones in tents in a land of RV enthusiasts, Joe felt we looked too much like pigs in a blanket waiting to be eaten, so no human food was going to be consumed on our little patch of rented earth for two nights.

Still, it was super pretty and amazing to be sleeping in a park that is 93% wild. Fish Creek Campground sits on the northwest portion of Lake McDonald and we took our first short hike there through some burned out areas that were growing back. Our hike was cut short by the realization that it was completely deserted and we ought not be messing around and maybe we needed to most definitely seek out this mythical bear spray we had been hearing about (which indeed does exist and is like pepper spray on steroids: a large canister meant to sit on the waist and be dispensed in the direction of hostile acting bear if it just won’t stop coming at you). Our path back was blocked by what we learned was a grouse that was not at all perturbed by our presence and cooled itself by burrowing into the dirt path and then relieving itself very loudly right in front of us. Nature!

Next, on to the Trail of the Cedars (any Harry Potter/Lords of the Ring/and/or fantasy game can be filled in here to explain that hushed and grand feeling of otherworldliness) with simple boardwalk path winding through ancient tree;, along water that diverts in its rush, lapping the trunks of trees and making islands; waterfall rushing with a bird swooping along its mini canyon currents over and over, making us jealous of the soaring game.

Dinner at the lodge for a meal and watch the sunset over the lake, drinking more local beer and debating whether or not to try the ever-advertised huckleberry pie (we never do).

Return to camp and our comfy tent for only a couple of hours before we are awoken and mentally plead with an approaching thunderstorm to just go away. And ever since we read that article on how to keep one’s self from being filled with lightning and potentially looking like this or being dead, we knew that staying in our little lightning rod hut was not a good idea, so into the car for the remainder of the night.

(continued below)

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