George Birthington's Washday
There was a
gap of some 6 years between when I first plotted out a major
Pacific Northwest train excursion and when I finally got to do
it, during late August and early September of 1997. While
11 days (six vacation, two weekends, one Official Designated
Holiday) was not quite long enough for a real useful Amtrek, who
knew if Amtrak would still be around the next year, let alone
when I have enough vacation time again? They used to have
two different routes betweem Chicago and Portland OR, and I would
have preferred to take one train out and the other back. Oh
well, at least the one remaining Chicago-Portland route covered
plenty of new territory, though I would merely be "doubling
back" on the return. At least I could relax, sit back
and watch the new counties go by.
Eating on the
train can be expensive, but I revived an old custom by bringing
along cereal, bowls and spoons, buying milk each morning (in
which I had breakfast anyway) along the way. The scenery
was nice up in the Rockies of course, except too much of each
direction would be under cover of darkness. The Columbia
Gorge was cool too, if a bit less canyon-like than
expected. My only confirmed views of a major volcano were
on the train near Mount Hood...could not even see that on my
other two trips through the gorge later!
The way out
started an hour late on the first Thursday, which for Amtrak
usually means they only get later as they move west...instead of
crack-of dawn arrival in Portland on Saturday, we would not reach
Oregon until noon. Worse yet, though Thrifty rent-a-heap
has a downtown office, my travel agent-of-torture was lazy and
set up my reservation with the airport location, meaning a long
#12 bus ride up to PDX, and then a long van ride from their to
Thrifty's off-site lot. Once there, I was first reminded of
an episode of TV's Seinfeld ("You take reservations
well, you just don't know how to HOLD reservations")...they
could not find my current reservation, but did find the old one
I'd cancelled when I added a day to the trip. Both were for
the weekly rate, but the newer one had a higher rate, so I can't
complain when the clerk gave up, managed to re-activate the old
rate but with the added day tacked on. The next part only
needed rain to be right out of the movie Get Shorty...instead
of the small, maneuverable, gas-sipping "economy car"
I'd requested, I was presented with a no-way-I'm-parallel-parking
minivan. Yep, the vehicle whose inventors will be amongst
the first up against the wall when the revolution comes, and
whose regular drivers seem to take advantage of the cheap
optional lobotomy. Mileage was OK (low 30s), but it's not
the kind of vehicle I expected to ever drive, let alone on foggy
mountain roads, on I-5 or in search of elusive downtown Portland
or Seattle parking spaces.
By the time I
found said Portland space, by way of quick stops at Fred Meyer's
for cassette tapes, Arctic Circle for lunch and an aborted
attempt at an angle space my Geo Metro would've easily fit at
Powell's Books' private lot, it was exactly 3pm. The good
part anyway, the space had a 3-hour meter, with restrictions
lifted at 6pm, and was a 550-foot homer from home plate at Civic
Stadium. From there, I walked back to Ozone Records for a
couple zines, then across the street back to the book-fan's
Mecca, Powell's City Of Books.
Powell's is
big. Really Big. Am told 2.5 million new and used
books. I somehow managed to find a few I wanted, the only
drawback being I whatever I bought had to be carried home, so I
left with but 1 book, a few more zines, and a vow to return on
some long fly-out weekend. The owners are related to the
Powell folks in Chicago, also fun bookstores but quite a bit
smaller. From there, I happened to walk down Oak St, where
I stumbled upon an all-zine store whose name eludes me right this
second. Several more zines later, I aimed for Powell's
separate travel store. Happened by a phone about half-way
there, so I tried (and at last succeeded) to reach the home of
the at-the-time central mailer of APA Centauri.
We would get to meet up after all, for coffee shakes at a local
establishment (one of the few downtown corners not ruled by
either Starbucks or Seattle's Best), and a quick walking
tour. One stop was at 2nd Avenue Records, loaded with used
vinyl ("What's with the flat black Frisbees?"), but did
have some CDs, including my first sighting of Negativland's new
release "SIDISPEP" (its true name garbled to protect
the guilty, ha).
From the
outside, Civic Stadium looks like a small, but normal, 1930s-era
ballpark. On the inside, it's a wacky J-shaped
multi-purpose stadium, with a crappy astroturf field at least 30
feet below streel level. It had hosted the Pacific Coast
League Portland Beavers for eons, until the AAA team got a better
offer from Salt Lake City. Now, Portland has the Rockies'
affiliate in the short-A Northwest League, where only another
former AAA city (Spokane) comes anywhere near it in market
size. This is the lowest level "Organized" league
I've ever seen, and the play looked it...pitching ruled for both
Portland and for the "Southern Oregon" (Medford)
Timberjacks, the A's entry in the Northwest. Portland
scratched out a couple early runs, but poor defense hurt them
late. However, one pitch from victory, the visitors pulled
a couple bonehead plays themselves and the Rockies won 4-3.
Leaving town
proved a challenge, as Burnside was a series of No Left Turn
signs even where I needed to get on I-405 north. East of
there, night-life traffic added to the mess, but lefts were
legal?!? Thought there might be the Hidden No-Left-Turn
sign trick (a favorite of cash-strapped Chicago suburbs), but a
cop passed me westbound without a thought. Another car
passed me, then the intersection would be clear.
"Bang!" No, the car was still partly in the
intersection...perhaps distracted by the flashing strobe lights
on the car he hit? I managed to squeeze around for the
turn, then beat it out of town as quickly as I-405 and I-5
legally allowed.
Overnight was
at a decent motel in Kelso, just within range of enough Portland
radio to catch some of what I missed during the day. A
quick flip through the TV channels revealed the first wave of the
Di-die media barrage which would follow me the rest of friggin'
trip.
First order
of business Sunday was a side drive down WA route 4 to pick up
little Wahkiakum county. The road was wedged in between the
Columbia River and the bluffs, but fortunately there was the
appropriate "County Line Park" for a convenient
turnaround.
Back to Kelso,
then up busy I-5 to Olympia. I'd been up and down the I-5
corridor from Seattle to Eugene several times from 1980 to 1986,
but had spent no time in any of the cities in between. I'd
at least been on the streets of Portland via Greydog and Green
Tortoise...Olympia I had seen only from I-5. All I got to
do this time was the state capitol grounds. There was some
sort of fair or flea-market downtown, but no parking was found
and I had many miles to go, so I picked up US101 north for my 3
missing counties on the Olympic peninsula. 101 hosts, alas,
a series of seasonal tourist towns, so the going was slow and
monotonous, with only foothills of the Olympic range visible from
sea level. Was all too happy to make a U-ie at an
intersection just inside Clallam county so I could head back to
saner places. Not that the roads to and through Tacoma, and
route 18 to I-90, were Big Fun either, but there were
moments. The Hood Canal floating bridge and the Tacoma
Narrows suspension span were cool...and were both at least the
second version on each site, as a former Hood Canal bridge sank
in a storm, and the original Tacoma Narrows was the infamous
"Galloping Gertie" which had demonstrated the power of
resonant frequencies so effectively back around 1940.
Passed Cheney Stadium near I-5, home of the Tacoma Rainiers, the
Mariners' AAA team. Four hours earlier, I would've gone,
sigh. I-5 and Route 18 had standard-issue urban-manic
traffic, the latter also loaded with construction zones.
Was a relief to reach I-90, just as it entered the Cascades.
With one
exception, I made no advance motel reservations, as these kind of
trips are "free-floating", by necessity. For
instance, it's hard to tell if conditions will keep me from
reaching a night's destination before 5am, or I reach it at 4pm
with no reason to stop in the town other than the motel
reservation. Not that I worried too much about being shut
out, as the minivan was roomier than any car I normally
get? Ideally, Sunday night would be at Ellensburg...I did
need to dip down to Yakima, but that was just an hour south on
I-82, so could drop down there, catch supper somewhere, then back
to Ellensburg for the night, an hour closer to Seattle.
However, while rooms were available, a big regional rodeo in town
artificially inflated the rates. A roadside dump for
$58? No thanks, I wound up at the Super 8 in the Yakima
burb of Union Gap (is Gary Puckett the mayor?).
[I finds out later, Puckett is
from Union Gap.]
Tried to get
an early start Monday, but sleep deprivation was already a
problem, and I already knew the next couple days would make it
worse. My only detour west was a stop in Roslyn, where one
of my favorite TV shows, Northern Exposure was
filmed. Many of the familiar storefronts are still in
place, and the Brick was in fact playing itself
("Washington's oldest tavern"). The town's
primary occupation appears to be sitting on benches or chairs in
front of most recognizable places, staring intently at anyone who
drives or walks by with a "Don't even THINK of whipping out
a camera" gaze. Just as well, in a couple
instances...the bare-bones Dr Joel storefront is now a souvenir
shop.
I HAD driven in
Seattle before, during my stay at the Radio Geek cult commune
during the summer of 1980. Enough to know to stick the van
in one place and leave it there until I needed to drive
again. For efficiency's sake, I aimed for the
long-term/economy lot at Sea-Tac...which they don't have, just a
massive, expensive near-terminal concrete deck. I was told
there are a number of commercial remote lots off-site, but trying
to find them, shop prices, then catch vans each way? I
swallowed hard and used the $15/day airport lot. Besides, I
could leave everything but the few essential items for the
Seattle day inside the van, then retrieve the bag I would need to
take with me that night.
Sea-Tac had the
nerve to post a sign "comparing prices" with still more
expensive airports, which somehow neglected to list the long-term
lots at O'Hare, Midway or Portland Int'l? I confirmed my
flights at the Alaska ticket counter, then dashed to the opposite
end of the terminal for the bus to town. While a holiday,
they had some daytime express service, and the weekend day pass
was in effect...am guessing I got about $7 use for my $3.20
investment. The express bus normally uses the transit
tunnel downtown, but it's used only Mon-Sat so I still haven't
seen it. Busses that take the tunnel are equipped with both
diesel and electric!
Ah, my memory
was not totally shot, as the low-70s numbered Metro routes were
still the direct buses from downtown to the U District. I
rode up to Ravenna Park, one of my favorite urban walks, to
briefly check out the old neighborhood. The familiar
apartments were still there, but the graveyard-shift 7-11 was no
more! It was one of the smaller 7-11s, but they managed to
squeeze 4 tiny businesses onto the site! Back over to the U
District to take some appropriate street-name photos for Fred Brooklyn!
Argoff, and a quick lunch at Jack-in-the-Box.
Regular MarkTime
readers may recall my past mentions of the Box, on St Louis,
Texas and California trips. The tacos are as mysteriously
tasty-but-deadly as ever, though in Seattle they add
lettuce? Had one of those and a teriyaki bowl, something I
enjoyed from the '93 southern Cal run but is not on the menu in
the Saint Louis area? There were a LOT of storefronts in
the area pushing teriyaki, bento (Japanese noodle soup, I gather)
or Pho (definitely Vietnamese noodle soup). Seattle has had
a substantial Asian population from the start, but I remember
seeing little business evidence of it in the past? Most,
however, were closed that day...could not tell it it was the
holiday, Monday in general, or was it a fad that had bottomed
out?
I next hopped
the trolley bus over to the Fremont area. My sister's last
Seattle residence was still there, but the co-op she worked at
was not found. In the same stretch of Fremont N, however, I
did encounter a misspelling of MarkTime prominently
displayed on a supermarket {they called it "Marketime"}.
Walked downhill to the "Interurban" statue...did they
move it, or did they widen the street? Either way, it's
impossible to photgraph properly without standing in the middle
of heavy traffic. Caught a bus loaded with Bumbershoot
attendees, which dropped me a measly block from Pike Place
Market. I just wanted to walk through, mostly down to catch
the waterfront streetcar, but the place was crawling with
tourists. I wanted to do Ivar's Acres of Clams for
dinner. Play Ball was fast approaching, but my name on the
list was not...was able to KEEP CLAM, however, as the adjacent
Ivar's Fish Bar was entertaining, and cheaper too. A
seagull convention was in town, and customers were encouraged to
toss them food. Some brave souls held up fries, for
dive-bombing gulls to grab on their way from the awning to the
water.
The streetcar
was crawling with turistas, too, but I had neglected to try it
before, so I wedged myself it for the brief ride down to the
Kingdome area. As it turns out, I did not HAVE to order my
ticket in advance, as they drew "only" 32k that
evening, but I had a great seat, 2nd row of the upper deck just 1
seat left of home plate. "Junior" had a great
night, two homers (took him up to 46 dingers for the season),
plus a double, single and a walk, definitely making up for being
a non-factor the several times I have seen Griffey in Chicago and
Milwaukee. The Mariners built up a 9-2 lead, showing off
their great offense and decent starting pitching. When Lou
Piniella felt he needed to use the bullpen, though, groans filled
the Kingdumb. One grand slam later, the Padres made a game
of it, but they managed to get Tony Gwynn for the final
out. I don't remember seeing Gwynn in person before, so was
looking forward to this. He does made great contact, rarely
looks bad on a missed swing, but just lacks the speed for legging
out enough grounders to catch .400...was a close out twice this
night. The 'dome was not as dark & stark as it was for
my soccer visit in 1980, and the fans obviously appreciated their
good team.
With time to
kill, I walked from the south end of downtown to the north, and
then some. Silly me forgot to avoid the area east of Pike
Place Market (such a cruddy area to be stuck between the market
and the tony Westlake shopping district!?), but survived,
blisters, sore legs and all. I had trained for all the
walking most Saturdays in August, to make sure the softball knee
could handle it. Well, the knee was fine, but the rest
of me remembered that the nearest thing to an achy walk I'd had
in August was when I had to climb a steep street on the way to
the Red Roof motel in east Madison WI.
I caught the
bus before the one I had to, just to be safe, so the rest of my
time-killing was reading magazines in the Alaska concourse at
Sea-Tac. It also gave me a chance to try out a remote
Internet access booth. Not sure if it's good to know, or
scary, to know I can access my AoHell account from a public
place? Time gets expensive on these things, so all I did
was scan the e-mail, noting at least 2 Seattle people tried to
contact me for possible meet-ups after I'd already skipped town.
A Good Thing
about the Internet...if one has patience, and some idea of what
flights and rental cars are supposed to cost, one can compare
prices and book flights & cars without having to call each
company, or try to visit a travel agent during their few business
hours. I've done best with Travelocity, certainly compared
to America on Hold's official travel site, but am still hoping to
run into a travel site with more versatility, closer to the Sabre
or Apollo travel agents and airlines use, or at least accesses
more of the cut-rate lines? In any event, this power can be
a dangerous thing, when one has a sudden whim, such as one late
night in July when the desire to check flights between Pacific
Northwest and Alaskan cities took hold of me. The obvious
first thought was Anchorage, being a good sized city and with
more than one airline, but then for the heck of it I tried
Juneau, too...hey, if I only get to Alaska once in my life, may
as well pick off the capital! Juneau was a bit cheaper, and
still has a batch of flights (in-season), though only on Alaska
Airlines. Only? The airline has a good reputation,
especially as it's a low-fare carrier (on its mainland network,
anyway). [Ironically, though, they had some trouble with a
plane somewhere in the northwest that afternoon, which even
affected my flight later.] The fare on one round-trip was
almost reasonable, so I booked it for a one-day adventure.
Alas, while it was enough in-season for a full slate of flights,
it was also too soon for off-season lodging rates, an especial
pisser when I wasn't getting in until about 2 am.
The Best
Western was nice, though hovering dangerously close to
"cutesy". What I wound up with was more a suite
than a room, with an oversized bed, separate roomlet with a
sleepable couch, and a kitchenette I would have no time to
use. Great place if you're there for a week on an expense
account. At least it was right on the Valley Express bus
route for downtown Juneau.
The populated
parts of the city use a string of small alluvial plains where
creeks run off the mountains that rise abruptly out of the
Gastineau Channel arm of the Pacific. The airport, and most
large stores, are in the suburban Mendenhall Valley. Named
for the glacier that carved the valley out of the montainside,
it's the widest, flatest zone in the city. I'll get back to
that later, as first order of business Tuesday was to take the
bus down Glacier Highway, the city's 4-lane road down to the
traditional city center. All the state government action is
found down there, and it is where the cruise ship docks are
located, of course meaning bunches of tourists and the stores
that cater to their questionable tastes. I hoped to pick up
the local paper, to read on the way down in case there were
activities the check out (or avoid) during the day, and to check
for movies in town for the evening. The Juneau Empire,
as it turned out, is an evening paper which comes out about
3pm. Also, they had had no Monday edition thanks to the
holiday.
Walking took me
on almost every level street in this part of town, and on a few
of the steep ones, huff puff. If there's high rents in
town, it doesn't feel like a similar-priced neighborhood in a
Lower 48 area. Prices on some things were not bad...the bus
was $1.25, no transfers (timed where, if you needed the other
route, they radio ahead for the bus to wait), postcards were 6
for $1, and so long as you avoided any fresh fruits, veggies or
meat, and could get by drinking water, food was not remarkably
higher than it the higher-cost cities of the I-5 corridor.
My big surprise was not finding salmon on menus away from the
tourist zone...do locals prefer to catch & cook their own, do
they get tired of it by season's end, or is it just too valuable
as an export commodity? I had haddock for lunch, and
assorted fried seafood for late dinner. In between, to set
a spell with a soda out of the rain, it was Taco Bell...again,
any menu item with only non-fresh or otherwise unidentifiable
ingredients was priced in line with many big-city downtowns, but
the fancier and "supreme" items provoked classic
"sticker shock".
Early weather
was merely cloudy, with the rain being only in the forecast, so I
took the Mount Roberts tram up. The mountain is about 6k,
the tram stopping at 1700 feet. I started up the slippery
packed-mud trail, making it about half way up, except then a wall
of rain could be watched sweeping across the channel. Took
longer getting down that to go up (would have been faster if I
did not care what shape I was in when I reached the trailhead,
ha), so everything exposed to the elements was soaked by the time
I reached the tram station. It did show that the full hour
I had spent checking and rechecking nearly every backpack in the
REI Oak Brook store was not wasted. I wanted as small a
pack as possible that could hold everything I needed for the
Juneau sub-trip (a day's change of clothes, maps, blank tapes,
etc), comfortable enough to drag around for 16 hours. About
the only important think I did not think to check was waterproof,
but then it was hot & sunny the afternoon of my research, and
the store had not yet installed a rain-simulation device.
The pack came through the rain just fine.
[As I discovered during a brutal
100º+ weekend in July of '99, however, contents of one section
can get wet from heavy sweating.]
I then trudged
back through the tourist-shop zone and up the hill towards where
the capitol was to be. Nothing was standing out as being a
major state building, so when I happened upon a bench under an
awning and next to an Juneau Empire box and a mailbox, I
used them all, sitting down to dig out the postcards, to glance
at the paper, and to find the downtown map. Turns out I was
just a block south of the capitol, but nothing stood out uphill
from my vantage point? Walked up, and yep there it was, a
yellow brick building that could pass for a school in most older
urban neighborhoods. Its main distinguishing feature is a
set of 4 thick granite pillars at the main entrance. Some
neat native art in the lobby, but otherwise the inside felt just
like the 1890s half of my first grade school. I found out
the tours were hourly, but I had JUST missed the start of one, so
I moved on.
[Not that I am complaining about
the architecture, just that this was a change from the usual
Show-Off-Your-State styles, such as the granite & marble
opulence towering over Olympia WA?]
When I finally
found the small ad on page 4 that was the Empire movie
section, two theaters were listed, with 7 movies between
them. The only film that came even close to appealing was Excess
Baggage, if only because it was the only obvious comedy (most
of the rest were too dark and/or violent), and I'd sorta liked
the trailer. Two problems, they only had one showing of
each film, at around 7pm, and neither theatre mentioned an
address...in a city of 30,000, why bother? I deduced that
one was downtown...it was, with a simple art deco-ish front but
no marquee (street too narrow for one, or perhaps the earthquake
risk?). The other, I then reasoned, must be up the
Mendenhall Valley. I walked down to the southernmost bus
stop, caught the next Valley local bus, and asked the
driver. She did know where it was, telling me which street
to ring for my stop.
The local route
circles around each little patch of housing away from Glacier
Highway. We crossed Salmon Creek, appropriately enough
clogged with the carcasses of post-spawn fish ("and the
live seagulls who love them, on the next Ricki Lake...").
Farther up, there was Lemon Creek, which I was unable to see well
enough to tell if there were floating lemon carcasses, or it was
just some sickly yellow color, or what? The stand-out
feature of this area, other than it being reminiscent of similar
all-white trailer trash communities south of I-70, was the razor
wire on the gate of a state prison hidden in the ravine.
The north end
of the Valley local route (with only 3 all-day buses, the routes
are not numbered...the other is Douglas, the populated area the
other side of the channel) is a wide loop around the Mendenhall
Valley's populated area. I was not sure where the famous
glacier was in relation to the bus route or the community, but I
did catch a glimpse of it through some trees. Drats, had I
known for sure where it was in relation to the bus line and the
theater, and I had remembered my watch was on still on Pacific
time (an hour ahead of the local Alaska time), I may have gotten
close enough for some clear photos. Anyway, the theater was
off the main road, on dead-end side street. The sign said
the lobby opened at 6, but it was not open yet...of course!
I began walking back up the road. Not far up was a
pedestrian bridge...and enough of a clearing in the trees to see
a massive wall of dirty snow looming 3 to 5 miles away! I
went up to the middle of the bridge and took a few shots through
the fencing, hoping maybe one will turn out (the only finished
roll I haven't taken in yet, it turns out).
[The Inevitable Doomsayer in me
comes out when seeing such things...the people in this
neighborhood probably deep-down have some idea about the forces
that created this piece of relatively flat ground in a mountain
zone, and that it would take only a few degrees' drop in normal
temperature to bring that wall of ice forward again, or else a
long hot spell away from it coming down in liquid form. I
thought it best to leave them in blissful ignorance, even knowing
that someday they will blame me for not sounding the alarm while
there was still time to evacuate the area, :)]
The sidewalks
along the main road doubled easily as paved biking/hiking paths,
set back some from the street, often at a different elevation,
and sometimes there are trees in between. Only spotted a
few local creatures...an orange-red squirrel, a pair of what
looked like oversized blue jays but with black Don King hair, and
perhaps the largest, goofiest slug I have even met (not counting
the former Executive Defective at EviLCA, ugh), chocolate brown
with the front end leathery-smooth, the back half the appearance
of evenly spaced small tufts of thick hair (a hair transplant
gone horribly wrong?) Not sure why I noticed it, except
perhaps the ingrained urban instinct to spot and avoid brown
blobs on the sidewalk? Had to look closely to notice any
signs of life (a slight wave in the antennae). I could not
remember if bright flashes of light were on the list of Things To
Do If Menaced By A Vampire-Snail ("Pound a stake made of
salt into its heart"), but in the tree-shadows it was my
only hope for the photo op...the slug was not obviously more (or
less) lethargic after the shot, so hopefully it survived the
ordeal.
Oh yeah, the
movie. Excess Baggage was good news/bad news.
Christopher Walken pretty much played his vicious,
McNugget-short-of-Happy-Meal self. Harry Connick Jr, wasted
in a smallish role as a slimy car saleman/thief. Sally
Kirkland, still gorgeous after all these years, also wasted in a
bit part as a waitress/self-published singer. The lead guy,
sorta looks and sounds like Dean Stockwell's half-Italian
love-child, did a great job with a lacklustre script.
Alicia Silverstone, believe it or not first movie I'd seen her
in, was cute until that chronic pout began to bug me, and was not
a strong enough actor to carry the weak material. Had some
laughs, though some of them were unintentional (they went to
great lengths claiming the film was set in Seattle, but the
actual Vancouver location peeked out often, when it wasn't
screaming "Go Canucks!"...some nice shots with the
"BC Transit" light-rail in the near background, for
instance). OK, but won't pay to see it again.
I got the
impression I was within an hour's walk of the airport at this
point. It was, even by my round-about, kill-time
route. I sought out a dinner place, and found a nice
late-night spot in one of the three long strips that pass for
malls. Ordered the biggest seafood item on the menu, $14
for what would probably be $8.25 at a similar-type Chicago
restaurant, like say the Skylight restaurant at Higgins &
Harlem, but I guessed (correctly) it would take time to
finish. Alas, business was just slow enough where the
waiter came around fast and often, but I found ways to drag
things out. The baked potato came with a condiments
tray...sour creme, chives and bacon bits. I used more
chives that usual, and I made the unusual move of also using the
bacon bits, which of course had to be mixed in with the potato,
but not fast enough to make a big mess, eh? And keep that
coffee coming...best savored with the sugar slowly stirred (not
shaken).
The round-about
walk from the restaurant to the airport was partly intentional,
partly accidental. My directional instints serve me well in
mystery areas, and while the path I was on was inviting, I began
to get the uneasy feeling I was not heading a direction that
would get me to the airport on time, or ever. I had two
great downtown maps, but how many tourists are in the Valley for
anything but the airport or the Alaska Marine Highway ferry
terminal? However, from the vague set of lines on the bus
schedule, I came to the conclusion I was right. The Road I
Should've Taken ended at Glacier Highway, just round the bend
from last night's hotel. The airport street is a half-block
from that, but I took the long way around, it still being only
11:20, and 56 to 60 degrees depending on the minute at the state
credit union.
[If it's that sensitive, they're
lucky I didn't find the thermometer intake and exhaled deeply a
few times..."98 degrees? Oh no, the glacier's gonna
thaw AAAAAAAK! Save yourselves!!"]
Another block
later, across from the enclosed Nugget Mall which would fit
inside a typical Sam's Club store, there was what from the back
and side appeared to be a large version of a standard-issue
convenience store. I came around from, looked inside and
saw nothing but wall-to-wall videotapes. Ah, the
6-hours-of-December-daylight entertainment headquarters!
Was about to return to the street when I caught a glimpse of the
rear wall's cooler doors. Indeed, a combination
video/convenience store! Oh yeah, soda in all forms is high
up there, typically $1.29 for a 32-ounce cup on tap, $2.29 for
bottled 2-liter, but figured a big cup would easily last until
flight time, and it wasn't going to be any cheaper at the
airport, if their concessions were even open (as they were
not). While hardly hungry after a big dinner, I had to
check out the baked-goods section on the way to the
register...can't remember the last time I saw such a selection of
fresh donuts, muffins and other goodies in one place, even at a
bakery or donut shop. Whittled my decision down to the
maple bar and the apple fritter, which won as I figured it would
get less mangled on the walk to the airport.
More than a few
folks had no where else to go before their flight...the terminal
was open and there were more seats scattered about the terminal
than one would encounter even in a large airport. O'Hare,
for one, detests loiterers, and discourages sitting anywhere but
near an active gate after midnight. I found an open seat on
an area where the radio reception was OK (do they deliberately
build airports to block out FM radio signals these days?) and
listened to KTOO's "Mule Train" program of neat old
country, and a goofy DJ (with a visiting girlfriend?) on rocker
KSUP until they opened the security checkpoint for the day.
Hmmm, I managed to avoid radio talk to this point. For one thing, while I don't deliberately avoid the subject these days, it's also not really worth the time to think about too much? Actually though, on most trips I have had good luck finding background, and even foreground, listening. WSJY west of Milwaukee was a good-odd soft AC (at the time anyway); Madison metro's WIBA still hangs on as a full-serve AC, local news even at 10:30 on a Saturday night, WORT is the nearest thing to a Pacifica station within 400 miles of Chicago (of course I forgot to check KDHX on the last Saint Louis run?), and WMMM-FM is a good soft album/modern/whatever, with the always amusing Radio Free Madison always worth catching when I'm not visiting an apartment a short fly ball from WNWC-FM's interference-spreading stick? (Them mothers get out...102.5 often heard here, even in winter!); Rochester MN's KNXR, well ez listening is rare enough anywhere, but this one has an eclectic mix of instrumental ez, jazz and big band atypical of what used to be a pervasive programming format, and fine-voiced announcers way out of line for the market size (must be all them high-priced Mayo Clinicians in the audience); Minneapolis-Saint Paul has as good a mix of stations as I hear in any market that has a shortage of blacks and Mexicans; A surprising number of competent, non-satellite stations were heard on the train ride through North Dakota and Montana; KAAQ in Spokane plays a good mix of standards and MoR between 6am and 6pm (otherwise, it's a so-so satellite feed), and while there it was nice to hear Tom Leykis again, via KJRB; Portland and Seattle have a wonderful mix of stations, though they suffer from the wobbly terrain and/or poor transmitter placement...the signals mess up in motion even on car radios! In Juneau, I had trouble deciding what to leave on when I had a chance to listen...KINY a decent full-serve AC, when not running blocks of talk (Art Bell I can take, but Rush...no, was WORSE, Michael Mudhead filling in for Rush!), KJNO automated oldies but fills time before the news with TV theme songs, and the above-mentioned KTOO and KSUP. As always, tapes of most of the above are available for trade!
As if I
needed proof I was tired...slept right through the beverage
service, and for all but about 30 minutes of the flight back to
SEA. We landed on time, but technical trouble with the
walkway kept us in the plane awhile longer. Even at
6am Wednesday, I-5 northbound traffic was nuts, so I was all too
happy to shift over to Route 99 through downtown and north to
Everett. My next totally new county was the all-island
Island, which is bridge-accessible from the east and north.
I opted for the Camano Island portion, via Rt. 532 through
Stanwood. After my U-ie back to the mainland, there was
supposed to be a state highway from Stanwood north to almost the
Anacotes Ferry free remote lot, but must have missed a turn from
poor/nonexistent signage, for it became a back-road following a
levee which turned the wrong direction, so had to get back on I-5
and pass through downtown Mount Vernon at what would be the AM
rush hour if there was work in that town.
The ferry
remote lot is a long ride east of Anacortes, but it beats $5
parking at the dock, or much more to carry the vehicle with you
on the ferry, never mind the traffic bottle-neck at loading and
unloading times. Plus, the shuttle is part of Skagit County
Transit, one of the rare long-sighted transit agencies aware of
how much it costs to collect and handle money. Yes, no
fares! The service looks infrequent from the schedules
posted on the shelter, but the system covers a lot of ground with
low population density. The Washington State ferries,
another cool mode for this here transit junkie, but this
particular ride was practical too...the most economical way to
reach San Juan County! I had wanted to ride all the way to
the main (San Juan) island, with the county seat Friday Harbor
with its eateries and "Pig War" historic sites, but I
was already running late and with a full day's hell drive still
to pack into just the afternoon. (I had been counting on a
second driver from Seattle to Spokane, but work and
transportation problems kept my pal down south.) So, opted
for the nearer Lopez Island, with a relatively short wait for the
return ferry, made shorter by fog hampering visability for some
miles out from Anacortes. In turn creating a few cool photo
ops on the back-side of the fog! To simplify matters,
passenger fares are collected only outbound from Anacortes...the
ride back from any San Juan County dock, and rides between each
island, are free except for vehicles. Radio reception
favored Vancouver, especially on AM, so made a point of listening
to CKLG, still hits I guess or maybe hot AC, and CBU...major
disappointment, no more "Morningside" in the late
morning, instead a lighter talk/entertainment program. The
Canadian Broadcasting Corp. had just reorganized its networks,
aargh! The former standard CBC Radio was calling itself
"Radio 1", and CBC Stereo I found out later morphing
into "CBC Radio 2".
Sometimes when
I'm driving, especially in cities, I get bad vibes from the
traffic patterns in the pack of cars I'm stuck with. Such
was the case with the bizarre lane-changing and leap-frogging
cult on route 20 heading east into Burlington.
[Leap-frogging, what I call it
when when the car ahead of you is at or below posted speed, you
pass it, then awhile later the goombah passes you real fast, gets
back your lane, then slows back down below your speed;
cycle repeats unceasingly until you aim for their rear bumper or
a bridge abutment in total, terminal frustration. A Stupid
Driving Stunt especially popular around Grand Rapids and Holland
in Michigan. See also "But I Want to Lead!", aka
"Speed Up Only When They Attempt To Pass You", not to
be confused with "Tailgate In A Fucking Hurry When There Are
Plenty Of Clear Passing Zones/Two Or More Lanes Each Way", a
sport second only to Packer Worship in Wisconsin.]
Anyways,
fortunately there was a Jack-in-the-Box in Burlington, at normal
lunch time though I really was not hungry (come to think of it,
did not even have dinner that night, not that there was anywhere
to stop on the roads I took east of Coulee Dam).
I'd been on
Route 20 across the Cascades before, so knew the fun I was in
for...heck, heading west in a wet treacherous pass in 1980, the
car ahead of us suddenly left the road, swerved, then flipped
over, eventually landing on its feet but pointing the wrong
direction? The driver got out and walked around, but
sounded disoriented as we chatted and stuck around until a patrol
car came by. Well, with the rain, fog, and yes being in a
minivan, can't say I was having fun. US 2, while well out
of my way, would have been OK if only for being an undriven
route. I wound up detouring south of Twisp, on routes 153,
17 and 174. This would bypass, barely, the Grand Coulee Dam
zone. I regretted this not long after, when small thoughts
of dinner came to mind, but since every place since Twisp was
under sunny skies in desert-like eastern Washington, the urge to
make time while I could was stronger. Besides, I knew I
wasn't going to like the next leg of the drive, Route 21 back to
20 to head for Kettle Falls or Colville.
Ferry County
alone is a prime reason I consider Washington up among the 10
Toughest States to complete. Ironically, to take Rt. 21
north requires a ferry, a free ride across the Columbia
River. The alternatives were either one of a pair of
unnumbered back roads between Rts 155 and 21, neither guaranteed
to be paved along their 25-30+ miles, or hook up with US 2 to
Route 25 for 91 miles of slow-going. All the above options
were going to be at night...the ferry dropped me off on just as
dusk was vanishing. Rt 21 might actually be good in the
daytime, but it winds a bit along the river then has open cattle
range and the occasional jaywalking deer to keep you awake and
below the limit for the long haul to the next town, Republic on
Rt. 20. Tuned around for ballgames, finding the Giants
having a bad night in Oakland on KNBR, the messy
back-of-the-pattern signal of KIRO with the Mariners hosting the
Padres, and bits of KJRB with the Spokane team winning at
Yakima. While I was eventually back on 20, again fighting
rain and/or fog, 90 frustrating minutes to cover 45 miles.
I've decided
that if I needed to rely on a travel book, I prefer the Moon
Publications, out of Chico, CA. AAA TourBooks are free, but
ignore perfectly good ma & pa motels anymore, especially in
cities where there is a high concentration of high-cost chains
that happen to advertise in the AAA books and club
magazines. The first Moon book I bought, Road Trip
USA, covers a number of cross-country non-Interstate US
highways (including US 2). They mention quite a number of
motels and eating establishments on the routes, though I noticed
they skipped over a few towns, and lacked detail for any sizable
city. I was much more impressed with their Washington state
reference book, digging very deep into cities and towns all over
the state, much like any travel book I would hope to produce
if/when time and resources ever permit. Limping into Kettle
Falls on fumes, I passed an odd motel/RV park combo, but thought
it best to get gas first, so I could start the thing again in the
morning. While the van was chugging down its 16 gallon
refill (the previous fill-up lasted it about 425 miles), I
consulted the Moon book, which deemed the motel worthy. And
it was, even with an overly-enthusiastic proprietor and all the
kitschy yard decorations in front (have we not all groaned at the
sight of the "Bent-Over Old Woman" lawn
thingee?). While it was not really late yet, I hit the
pillow snoring...rare anymore, even when dead tired, for me to
get to sleep so quickly, and stay asleep so soundly all night.
For amateur
astronomers, it might be finding new comets. For coin
collectors, perhaps finding a "P" mint mark for a year
when the Philadelphia mint was supposed to use no such
marking. One of my ultra-rare delights is discovering
unlicensed broadcasters. "Pirate" radio is illegal still in the US, though with
available micro-transmitters, or frustrated CBers with a stack of
CDs, and some folks deciding their local radio suck swamp-gas,
unlicensed transmissions are supposedly sweeping the
land...though their very nature (flea-power, oddball frequencies,
questionable technical knowledge, balancing desire to broadcast
vs FCC's manic insistence on monitoring the airwaves for
unauthorized transmissions, confiscating the transmitters used
and fining the users for the privilege) continue to make them
rare finds even where known to be common (Brooklyn, Berkeley,
central Illinois and such). All my years of radio fandom, I
can confirm having received less than 20 "pirates", on
AM or FM, locally and in my travels (check the above link for
some stories). I tuned around the AM and FM dials Wednesday
morning without a reference aid (left it in the van), finding
country on 1240, I forget what on 92.1, and standards-type
vocals, with a slightly shaky signal, on 102.5.
The folks
following along with atlases and radio reference books quickly
figured out I got the pair of stations from Colville, less than
10 miles east on Route 20, but they are scratching their heads
wondering what's this 102.5? I wondered too, while
listening during my morning bowl of Toasty-O's. Twenty
minutes of uninterrupted, unannounced music, abruptly into BBC
news at the hour, and more music before a local break...promotion
of a live noon talk show at a restaurant in downtown Kettle
Falls...on "102.5 Community Micro-Broadcast
Radio"! Well that explains the B- signal, except it
was no worse all the way to the far end of Colville! Did
they think these things suddenly become legal, or do they just no
know better, besides being a bit off the beaten track for the FCC
cat-detector vans, or perhaps it's the proximity to the tribal
lands of the Idaho Skinhead Nation? (Did not hear any
"Limbaugh and Helms are leftist pinko liberals"
spoutings, so the latter is just Mr. Doomsayer's guesswork again,
ha).
Welcome to
Thursday #2! For Pend Oreille county, it might have been
faster to stay on US 395 from Colville to Deer Park, cut over to
US 2 and do a 20-mile U-ie, but that would not have been
sporting. Besides, was actually a nice sunny day for once,
so Route 20 was almost pleasant and scenic up, down and around to
the Rt. 211 cutoff. And hey, the only FM received on half
that stretch was the CBU relay in Trail, BC, though again with
the semi-lame-o "Radio 1" replacement for
"Morningside". US 2 was a fast 4 lanes most of
the way to Spokane, so I made the N. Division AAA parking lot
just short of 1pm. The main information I needed was
directions to a post office, where I would grab a couple Priority
Mail boxes, stuff them with all the recorded tapes, plus any map,
book or souvenir I did not need again on the trip, all to be
mailed to myself at work. Worked great, as they came in my
first day back at Oakbrook Terror Tower. Also mailed off three
batches of tape-letters I was working on along the
road...sometimes (like that hell Wednesday from Seattle to Kettle
Falls) making tape-letters is a great way to stay awake on a long
drive.
There was a
Golden Corral steakhouse next to AAA, so I knew where lunch would
be. I was in desperate need of fresh vegetables, so their
food bar did the trick. Proud to say I ate nothing but real
food, leaving no room or desire for dessert. Finally got a
new location directory, for this chain that generally sticks to
smaller cities. Alas, 1997's stand-out stop, Cedar City UT,
was not listed? Where will that odd Mormon family go to eat
while the kids ask one parent to ask the other parent about
something? Across the street was another Hastings
CD/book/magazine store, another chain which seems to avoid big
cities and the eastern US in general. I always have good
luck finding things I have in mind, but hardly do well when I
have nothing in mind, so I did not stop in.
I've always
considered Spokane a strange breed of cat...a fairly large city
no where near any other city, with at least 3 major religious
stations on the commercial FM band. A nasty campaign ad on
KAAQ was blasting the mayor for spending money to keep a
Nordstrom's in town, while neglecting road repairs. This
was heard somewhere between giving up dodging road cones on N.
Division, having to do the construction barricade slalom on Maple
(eventually having to bale out on that when orange trucks blocked
further forward progress) and being relieved to find the flashing
arrow merge sign ahead did not affect my getting on eastbound
I-90. Too bad they aren't doing any working on their roads!
The next part
was reminiscent of the last part of my Oklahoma county quest a
couple Thanksgivings ago, when terrain and road layout meant that
the easiest way to get my last few Oklahoma counties was by
taking a road in Arkansas with an occasional side-trip
west back into OK. Actually, for this part of Washington US
195 was a fast direct route, but for just a little more time and
work I could take WA route 27, then take a short cut-off to US 95
in Idaho. As with the OK/AR strategy, this would wind up
giving me more new ones (3 to 2) in ID...was in that state only a
few more miles between Spokane and Lewiston/Clarkston, but
Idaho's counties are smaller.
The northern
approach to Lewiston and Clarkston is a steep slide down a canyon
wall into the Snake River valley. Great view of both cities
from the top, much more interesting than what I saw at ground
level, :). The run west on US 12 would be faster than it
looks on the map, certainly less nasty than Route 20, yet the
scenery is still nice, a desert/rangeland-foothills motif.
The main trouble was the sun in my face, as I rushed rushed west
to try making the Walla Walla County line in time to get the
photo in daylight. Not quite, but perhaps there was enough
twilight to counteract the trouble my flash has with reflective
signs? Behind and to the right at that point were a bright
crescent moon moon, and Venus peeking through what was left of
the twilight.
[Nope...the photo was too dark]
Washington
State completed, it was a coin flip whether my overnight was to
be at Pendleton or in the Tri-Cities. I picked
Pasco-Kennewick-Richland, figuring US 12 would be better than a
state highway in Oregon, I'd be picking up Umatilla Co. anyway
taking I-82 to meet I-84 for Portland, that there would be a
better selection of lodging (likely true), local radio
(definitely!), cheaper gas (I'll say!!) and more chow
(well...). Well, Pasco's Motel 6 is the first motel you see
coming into the Tri-Cities westbound on US 12 or southbound on US
395. I'd seen it from Amtrak just 2 minutes from Pasco
station, so it's close to downtown too, but the eats were meager
there! Pasco must be the poor brother of the 3, as
everything I've heard of (except Motel 6 and a Burger King), and
most of the local pizza places, were in the other 2 cities!
About 10 miles
before this, I'd spotted a gas station off on some side-road
posting $1.19 for gas. To this point, everything I used or
passed was far higher than what I pay in northwest and west
suburban Chicago ($1.24 or so). "Best" in
Portland was $1.41, probably a combination of make-up taxes (no
sales tax on store-bought items, so was a useful state for
stocking up on tapes and batteries) and it being one of the few
remaining "We-Pump" states (NJ, and who else?).
So, the only time I gassed up in Oregon was the "Bring it
back full" last stop before returning the rental. The
butthead insisted on topping it off, even as I was insisting that
she stop, aargh! High station was $1.52 at a 76 near Civic
Stadium. Washington state was high north of Portland (just
low enough for Portlanders to think they're getting a deal), and
in high-density parts of the city of Seattle, otherwise it was
tyically about $1.35-$1.39 at the majors, $1.29-$1.32 at
Arco. So, when I had enough cash it was usually Arco, but
when needing to use credit, it was the "cheapest" of
the rest on the same side of the street I was on at the
time. Arco is also one of those useful convenience stores,
including some edible sandwiches if I just want a small lunch
and/or artificial stomach-fillers.
Anyhoo, the
traffic and the smell of the Boise Cascade paper plant kept me
from changing lanes in time for the $1.19 station, but I did
better Friday morning anyhow, on my way out of the Tri-Cities,
$1.11 at the Arco just before I-82...even the majors here were
running $1.15, one of those anomolous "gas war" areas
perhaps?
By Friday
morning, a few of the radio talk-show hosts were getting as sick
of all the Princess Di death hype as I had gotten by the Sunday
morning already. At least one was heard to say, "Geez,
you'd think she was Mother Teresa or something". Not
hardly...Mother Teresa's death that day barely put a small nick
in the Diana coverage!
I-82 to I-84
took me through the Columbia Gorge on the Oregon side, for just a
few more new counties as I raced back to Portland.
Construction zones slowed the pace, as did a swarm of slow
traffic on the west side of The Dalles where I'd finally found a
Taco Time when I was actually hungry. So, my hoped-for last
bit of Portland exploration time was gone...after the gas
adventure and a reverse of the downtown-to-rental pickup
excursion, I made it back to Union Station with only 20 minutes
to spare.
So of course we
left late again, though this time for a good cause...the
northbound Coast Starlight was late, so they held for connecting
passengers. This was handled remarkably efficiently by
Amtrak standards, then at last on our way. This at least
gave me one last shot at recording the legal ID of a fun little
local talk station, to intrigue/confuse the Wisconsin
folks..."1010 in Milwaukee, with a K call?" Not
Milwaukee, Milwaukie! If I ever get back to Portland long
enough to explore some suburbs, that's a definite city-limits
photo op. The train ride back was anti-climatic, and the
train managed to make up the lost time, dropping me at the
Glenview station only 10 minutes late on Sunday.
Totally new counties:
MN 3 (for 50), ND 8 (24), MT 8 (24), ID 5 (17), WA 20 (for all 39!!), OR 6 (24), AK 1 (1).
New state:
Alaska (#49 of 50)
Completed State:
WA (#21)
Newly-driven counties:
OR 7 (7), WA 32 (33), ID 4 (4)
New capital:
Juneau AK (leaving only Honolulu HI and Helena MT)
New capitols:
Washington and Alaska
New Largest Cities Missed:
for ND (now Wahpeton), WA (now Puyallup), OR (now Beaverton)
New MLB ballpark {for baseball}, Kingdome, Seattle [since
closed]
Other new ballpark, Civic Stadium, Portland OR.
All states now visited since 6/93, except not yet to Hawaii.