The Sea and the Sand
So when I got home on Friday, My Crazy Roommate announced that she'd scored a train ticket back to Baltimore, and she'd be leaving on Thursday.
Well, that's a bit sudden. Never mind that it leaves me in the wind as far as half of April's rent, I think I can cover for that. Just seems less like a move and more like an evacuation. I'd known she wanted to move back east for some time now, cost of living is higher here than it is in Maryland, and when her Microsoft gig fell through in February, the money tightened quickly. The local economy being what it is, I could understand her wanting to get back to her family. She'd been out here a year and a half, and she never went back for a visit, and no one came out here to see her. That can be kind of isolating.
So I started talking about what she wanted to do with the time she had here, what would she like to see? I always mention Mt Rainier, since it's one cool piece of real estate. They don't have mountains on the east coast: biggest thing they got is Mt Washington in New Hampshire, and at 6,288 ft it's not even half the size of Rainier. But she didn't want that, she wanted to see the Pacific Ocean. So on Sunday, we set out for the coast.
I suggested we catch the ferry across the Sound, which is something I'd always said she'd like but she never went for. I'd never driven out to the ocean, though I'd made the trip in the company of others on a few occasions, so this was something of an adventure for me as well. Just the thing for a spring Sunday in Seattle.
I picked up a travel brochure for the Olympic peninsula, which had a full-page map of the highways and the major points of interest. When we landed in Bremerton, I stopped for gas and asked for directions to Highway 3, to get us south to 8, and from there out 12 to Aberdeen, home of Kurt Cobain and Nirvana! Long as we were roadtrippin' to satsify My Crazy Roommate, I wanted to get something out of it as well.
Hwy 3 took us through Belfair and Allyn, then Shelton and southward, til we picked up 8 at McCleary, which led to Montesano and Hwy 12, from there it was due west to Aberdeen, then Hoquiam, then the Pacific Ocean. The drive was very pleasant, the weather clement and the visibility wonderful. Very scenic, though nothing much to report. Too bad My Crazy Roommate slept through most of it: it was more of the state than she'd seen since she got here...and she couldn't stay awake for it.
I woke her up when we approached Aberdeen, since the sign gave me a good laugh: it reads "Welcome to Aberdeen -- Come As You Are". For those of you not in the know, Aberdeen was Cobain's hometown, and "Come As You Are" was one of Nirvana's biggest hits. I would love to have gotten a picture, but I was driving.
Anyway, I decided on continuing through Hoquiam on to Ocean Shores, rather than going south and out Hwy 105 to Westport. The day was waning, and I was hoping we'd get further up the coast to see the breakers up near Ruby Beach, whereas the view from Westport (where I spent a few summer weekends salmon fishing with my father when I was young) wasn't much.
At about five o'clock, we made it to the Pacific. Not a bad view, I guess. She insisted we get out and walk the beach, which was mostly deserted. I quickly found out why: the wind coming in off the ocean was COLD. She's the one who'll freeze to death at room temperature, so I was surprised she was up for it. Me, I had my jacket on tight, but I couldn't stand more than about five minutes of it. I have to confess that I've never been all that fond of ocean or beach, so I wasn't thrilled to begin with. But getting face-numbing cold on a clear spring day wasn't too appealing. It was dinner time, and we were both hungry. I thought the situation called out for clam chowder (though I'm not perfectly sure that any of the clams would be local--what do I know about seafood?).
Thing is, Ocean Shores didn't seem to have any restaurants. Everything along the shore was a hotel, set half a mile or more back from the water. With the sun sinking and daylight running out, we just opted for a hotel restaurant, where I got a big bowl of chowder and a Kemper black cherry soda, and she got a dinner salad. All in all, the fare wasn't that great, and the view was non-existent. Contrast that with Three Crabs up in Sequim--when Hammerhead and I trekked out 101 a few years ago, that was a great choice. He recently told me he liked it so much he was tempted to drive out there again just for dinner. I wasn't so taken with it, but it was a sight better than anything I saw in Ocean Shores or its environs.
We lit out of there headed north on 109, hoping to see some breakers before the sunset. Though the drive was pleasant (and she stayed awake this time), the good views of the water were few and far between. We ended up in Taholah, right at the mouth of the Quinault River. Very small township, we tried to drive to the ocean from the road, but didn't get very far. The houses all looked rundown, the lawns littered with household items, the whole place looking impoverished and trashed. My Crazy Roommate surmised that the economic downturn must have hit this small town very hard, and all the locals must have moved on. No, actually, I pointed out that she was having another life first: this was the first Indian reservation she'd ever seen. This place had always been this way. White people. (I'm a half-breed Chibcha, if that explains my exasperation any.)
There was a sign at the bridge over the Quinault that I thought was hilarious, at first. I drove across, wondering how bad it could be. Answer: bad. The road, for the most part, ended at the bridge; the other side wasn't paved, looked more like a cleared path than a road, with giant potholes that my Honda Civic couldn't navigate. So we turned back, as 109 led inland and it would be nearly an hour before we could get further up the coast to 101 and the ocean views up there. We decided to turn back for Ocean Shores, and try to get a good look at the sunset over the Pacific.
We made it, though just barely. It being past seven o'clock, and the drive back to Seattle being three to four hours, it was time to head back. We didn't make for Bremerton and the ferry, but rather for Olympia, there to take I-5 up to Seattle, that being the fastest way. We got in just before 11:00pm, not a bad little whirlwind tour.
Next day I had to drive to Tacoma, take my mother to a doctor's appointment. My Crazy Roommate came with me, and we had a farewell dinner at Moctezuma's, my favorite restaurant.
Seems like it was just yesterday that she arrived from Baltimore, never having seen the west coast before.
Well, OK, it doesn't seem that recent. Lot's happened in that time, but it was nice to have a roommate again. Never lived with a chick before. It's different. No regrets, on my part anyway. Other than to acknowledge that I'm not the easiest person to live with.
On Friday, April 3rd, I drove her to the Amtrak station just across the street from where I work, and put her on the train. Fare thee well, Kitty Lane.
Now back to bachelor living.
Well, that's a bit sudden. Never mind that it leaves me in the wind as far as half of April's rent, I think I can cover for that. Just seems less like a move and more like an evacuation. I'd known she wanted to move back east for some time now, cost of living is higher here than it is in Maryland, and when her Microsoft gig fell through in February, the money tightened quickly. The local economy being what it is, I could understand her wanting to get back to her family. She'd been out here a year and a half, and she never went back for a visit, and no one came out here to see her. That can be kind of isolating.
So I started talking about what she wanted to do with the time she had here, what would she like to see? I always mention Mt Rainier, since it's one cool piece of real estate. They don't have mountains on the east coast: biggest thing they got is Mt Washington in New Hampshire, and at 6,288 ft it's not even half the size of Rainier. But she didn't want that, she wanted to see the Pacific Ocean. So on Sunday, we set out for the coast.
I suggested we catch the ferry across the Sound, which is something I'd always said she'd like but she never went for. I'd never driven out to the ocean, though I'd made the trip in the company of others on a few occasions, so this was something of an adventure for me as well. Just the thing for a spring Sunday in Seattle.
Had my camera, took this shot of the waterfront as the ferry pulled away.
I picked up a travel brochure for the Olympic peninsula, which had a full-page map of the highways and the major points of interest. When we landed in Bremerton, I stopped for gas and asked for directions to Highway 3, to get us south to 8, and from there out 12 to Aberdeen, home of Kurt Cobain and Nirvana! Long as we were roadtrippin' to satsify My Crazy Roommate, I wanted to get something out of it as well.
Hwy 3 took us through Belfair and Allyn, then Shelton and southward, til we picked up 8 at McCleary, which led to Montesano and Hwy 12, from there it was due west to Aberdeen, then Hoquiam, then the Pacific Ocean. The drive was very pleasant, the weather clement and the visibility wonderful. Very scenic, though nothing much to report. Too bad My Crazy Roommate slept through most of it: it was more of the state than she'd seen since she got here...and she couldn't stay awake for it.
I woke her up when we approached Aberdeen, since the sign gave me a good laugh: it reads "Welcome to Aberdeen -- Come As You Are". For those of you not in the know, Aberdeen was Cobain's hometown, and "Come As You Are" was one of Nirvana's biggest hits. I would love to have gotten a picture, but I was driving.
Anyway, I decided on continuing through Hoquiam on to Ocean Shores, rather than going south and out Hwy 105 to Westport. The day was waning, and I was hoping we'd get further up the coast to see the breakers up near Ruby Beach, whereas the view from Westport (where I spent a few summer weekends salmon fishing with my father when I was young) wasn't much.
At about five o'clock, we made it to the Pacific. Not a bad view, I guess. She insisted we get out and walk the beach, which was mostly deserted. I quickly found out why: the wind coming in off the ocean was COLD. She's the one who'll freeze to death at room temperature, so I was surprised she was up for it. Me, I had my jacket on tight, but I couldn't stand more than about five minutes of it. I have to confess that I've never been all that fond of ocean or beach, so I wasn't thrilled to begin with. But getting face-numbing cold on a clear spring day wasn't too appealing. It was dinner time, and we were both hungry. I thought the situation called out for clam chowder (though I'm not perfectly sure that any of the clams would be local--what do I know about seafood?).
Thing is, Ocean Shores didn't seem to have any restaurants. Everything along the shore was a hotel, set half a mile or more back from the water. With the sun sinking and daylight running out, we just opted for a hotel restaurant, where I got a big bowl of chowder and a Kemper black cherry soda, and she got a dinner salad. All in all, the fare wasn't that great, and the view was non-existent. Contrast that with Three Crabs up in Sequim--when Hammerhead and I trekked out 101 a few years ago, that was a great choice. He recently told me he liked it so much he was tempted to drive out there again just for dinner. I wasn't so taken with it, but it was a sight better than anything I saw in Ocean Shores or its environs.
We lit out of there headed north on 109, hoping to see some breakers before the sunset. Though the drive was pleasant (and she stayed awake this time), the good views of the water were few and far between. We ended up in Taholah, right at the mouth of the Quinault River. Very small township, we tried to drive to the ocean from the road, but didn't get very far. The houses all looked rundown, the lawns littered with household items, the whole place looking impoverished and trashed. My Crazy Roommate surmised that the economic downturn must have hit this small town very hard, and all the locals must have moved on. No, actually, I pointed out that she was having another life first: this was the first Indian reservation she'd ever seen. This place had always been this way. White people. (I'm a half-breed Chibcha, if that explains my exasperation any.)
There was a sign at the bridge over the Quinault that I thought was hilarious, at first. I drove across, wondering how bad it could be. Answer: bad. The road, for the most part, ended at the bridge; the other side wasn't paved, looked more like a cleared path than a road, with giant potholes that my Honda Civic couldn't navigate. So we turned back, as 109 led inland and it would be nearly an hour before we could get further up the coast to 101 and the ocean views up there. We decided to turn back for Ocean Shores, and try to get a good look at the sunset over the Pacific.
We made it, though just barely. It being past seven o'clock, and the drive back to Seattle being three to four hours, it was time to head back. We didn't make for Bremerton and the ferry, but rather for Olympia, there to take I-5 up to Seattle, that being the fastest way. We got in just before 11:00pm, not a bad little whirlwind tour.
Next day I had to drive to Tacoma, take my mother to a doctor's appointment. My Crazy Roommate came with me, and we had a farewell dinner at Moctezuma's, my favorite restaurant.
Seems like it was just yesterday that she arrived from Baltimore, never having seen the west coast before.
Well, OK, it doesn't seem that recent. Lot's happened in that time, but it was nice to have a roommate again. Never lived with a chick before. It's different. No regrets, on my part anyway. Other than to acknowledge that I'm not the easiest person to live with.
On Friday, April 3rd, I drove her to the Amtrak station just across the street from where I work, and put her on the train. Fare thee well, Kitty Lane.
Now back to bachelor living.
posted by Russ the Librarian at 12:17 AM
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