Tuesday, May 20th, 2008
I’m so deep in the woods that it feels like I’m in the middle of nowhere with nothing but nothing around me. The truth is I’m just south of Seattle tucked under the trees in a State Park Campground in Des Moines. Could of fooled me. What with the absolute silence that the sounds of nature are playing in, and the ‘no one for miles feeling’ that comes from two dozen empty campsites surrounding one’s tiny little tent. Lonely? Nooooo. I actually feel as though I have stumbled on to a secret escape. And it’s not just the dense rain-forest oasis within the busy greater-Seattle area that has landed me in this hidden sanctuary, but it’s the time. I feel like I’ve discovered extra hours in the day. The day for me has been strongly tied to the sun. My trip has been seen through the windshield of the Dakota, and without the sun, I’m just wasting my drive. So when the sunsets my site-seeing comes to a close and my day wraps up as I crawl into the tent. However in reality, my full day has ended at 9 o’clock, leaving me this unique night time; my own quiet space to do whatever I want with. And of course I choose to spend it with you… It is truly peaceful though, to hide away from the world with you thoughts. This is of course only day two, and I can imagine that the ramblings only get worse to a point before I totally lose my mind and start making friends with trees.
Washington. They let me in. Hmmm. Crossing the boarder was fairly painless. As I pulled the truck towards the boarder officer I was thinking to myself how exciting it was to be moving through customs with nothing to hide. Oddly enough I did feel quite anxious when I got to the gate. I don’t know what it is about the place that makes you feel like you are trying to sneak in, but before I knew it, I was questioning my answers and hesitating when I was asked if they could check the back of the truck. It’s innocent people like me that make smuggling a real possibility; I’m not even bring fruit across the boarder and I look like I might have enough heroin in my possession to film the sequel to Scarface.
I out ran the rain as I headed south on 97. Washington seemed exactly like the Dr. Seuss scene I had just left in the Canadian Okanogan, except with more American flags, Washington license plates, MPHs, and Budweiser Billboards. I was ecstatic. The goofy hills widened and the road had to cling to the edge of the steep cliff that lined the deep river valley. At one point I was asked if I wanted to continue down ‘97 south’, or take ‘ATL 97 south’. No question. ATL is the goal of this trip. The alternate route was quiet and quite scenic. It took me high above the river, out of the valley where great vistas had been waiting for me.
My plan had been to head west on Highway 20, which was labeled the North Cascades Highway. Well, this is what I get for planning: it was closed. I drove further south and hooked up with highway 2, which took me across a dense National Park area where two lanes had been cut out of the forest. I had the feeling that if a single day went by without a steady flow of traffic the forest would reclaim the road as its own. At times I had the whole highway to myself. For upwards of ten minutes I would putts along not needing to share the scenery with anyone else. Lonely? Nooooo, it’s peaceful… okay it’s a little strange, but I would soon long for it again.
As I made it to the edge of my western route I ran into everything that isn’t the nothing I had found along the secondary highways from Calgary. The I-5 was a mess. A huge mess of everyday Seattle traffic, and I instantly found myself locked in. I followed the I-5 from Everett passed the Space Needle, through down town Seattle, literally (the highway burrows underneath the busy down town core in a series of tunnels, pretty cool) and eventually found Des Moines. I wanted to get right into the Seattle rush hour experience, so as I plugged along in the eight lane of bumper to bumper jungle I surfed the Seattle radio waves. Everything from ESPN sports, to top-40 radio host blabber, to some dude on his own talk-radio show tearing into a grade 7 kid for having questioned his on-line solution to a math problem she had asked him, kept me more then entertained. Okay, I wish I could complain about the traffic, but again I found it quite peaceful. I was stuck in rush hour, but for the first time I wasn’t in a rush, I really had no better place to be then surrounded by everyday downtown Seattle tomfoolery. With that said, I don’t know that I need any more of it. I have made a on-the-go decision that will take me away from the big city and back to the secondary highways and all that they offer. Because that’s what my trip is; those places you miss when you fly to the big cities. I’m looking for the towns with names that I can’t pronounce, or the little villages with their cute little themes that are so out of place you can’t help but stop to check it out. Everyday is on the fly and aside from ‘looking for the unknown’, I don’t want to plan for anything…
I’m so deep in the woods that it feels like I’m in the middle of nowhere with nothing but nothing around me. The truth is I’m just south of Seattle tucked under the trees in a State Park Campground in Des Moines. Could of fooled me. What with the absolute silence that the sounds of nature are playing in, and the ‘no one for miles feeling’ that comes from two dozen empty campsites surrounding one’s tiny little tent. Lonely? Nooooo. I actually feel as though I have stumbled on to a secret escape. And it’s not just the dense rain-forest oasis within the busy greater-Seattle area that has landed me in this hidden sanctuary, but it’s the time. I feel like I’ve discovered extra hours in the day. The day for me has been strongly tied to the sun. My trip has been seen through the windshield of the Dakota, and without the sun, I’m just wasting my drive. So when the sunsets my site-seeing comes to a close and my day wraps up as I crawl into the tent. However in reality, my full day has ended at 9 o’clock, leaving me this unique night time; my own quiet space to do whatever I want with. And of course I choose to spend it with you… It is truly peaceful though, to hide away from the world with you thoughts. This is of course only day two, and I can imagine that the ramblings only get worse to a point before I totally lose my mind and start making friends with trees.Washington. They let me in. Hmmm. Crossing the boarder was fairly painless. As I pulled the truck towards the boarder officer I was thinking to myself how exciting it was to be moving through customs with nothing to hide. Oddly enough I did feel quite anxious when I got to the gate. I don’t know what it is about the place that makes you feel like you are trying to sneak in, but before I knew it, I was questioning my answers and hesitating when I was asked if they could check the back of the truck. It’s innocent people like me that make smuggling a real possibility; I’m not even bring fruit across the boarder and I look like I might have enough heroin in my possession to film the sequel to Scarface.
I out ran the rain as I headed south on 97. Washington seemed exactly like the Dr. Seuss scene I had just left in the Canadian Okanogan, except with more American flags, Washington license plates, MPHs, and Budweiser Billboards. I was ecstatic. The goofy hills widened and the road had to cling to the edge of the steep cliff that lined the deep river valley. At one point I was asked if I wanted to continue down ‘97 south’, or take ‘ATL 97 south’. No question. ATL is the goal of this trip. The alternate route was quiet and quite scenic. It took me high above the river, out of the valley where great vistas had been waiting for me.
My plan had been to head west on Highway 20, which was labeled the North Cascades Highway. Well, this is what I get for planning: it was closed. I drove further south and hooked up with highway 2, which took me across a dense National Park area where two lanes had been cut out of the forest. I had the feeling that if a single day went by without a steady flow of traffic the forest would reclaim the road as its own. At times I had the whole highway to myself. For upwards of ten minutes I would putts along not needing to share the scenery with anyone else. Lonely? Nooooo, it’s peaceful… okay it’s a little strange, but I would soon long for it again.As I made it to the edge of my western route I ran into everything that isn’t the nothing I had found along the secondary highways from Calgary. The I-5 was a mess. A huge mess of everyday Seattle traffic, and I instantly found myself locked in. I followed the I-5 from Everett passed the Space Needle, through down town Seattle, literally (the highway burrows underneath the busy down town core in a series of tunnels, pretty cool) and eventually found Des Moines. I wanted to get right into the Seattle rush hour experience, so as I plugged along in the eight lane of bumper to bumper jungle I surfed the Seattle radio waves. Everything from ESPN sports, to top-40 radio host blabber, to some dude on his own talk-radio show tearing into a grade 7 kid for having questioned his on-line solution to a math problem she had asked him, kept me more then entertained. Okay, I wish I could complain about the traffic, but again I found it quite peaceful. I was stuck in rush hour, but for the first time I wasn’t in a rush, I really had no better place to be then surrounded by everyday downtown Seattle tomfoolery. With that said, I don’t know that I need any more of it. I have made a on-the-go decision that will take me away from the big city and back to the secondary highways and all that they offer. Because that’s what my trip is; those places you miss when you fly to the big cities. I’m looking for the towns with names that I can’t pronounce, or the little villages with their cute little themes that are so out of place you can’t help but stop to check it out. Everyday is on the fly and aside from ‘looking for the unknown’, I don’t want to plan for anything…
Day Two: The alternate route is always the best choice.
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