Seattle, Washington

Got up at 6:30 am in an effort to get an early start on the 9 hour drive to Seattle. Decided to watch the USA v. Algeria World Cup game instead. First 90 minutes = wish we left earlier; 91st minute = SO glad we stayed. Very, very exciting.

On the road about 10:30, and crossing in to Oregon about 11:20 or so. Pretty nondescript through western ID and the start of eastern OR. A short, windy drive (10 min max) through a steep valley is the only exception.

After about 125 miles on I-84 west, we made our first stop. Loved seeing the wooden sign announcing that we were following the Oregon Trail. I actually found myself a bit emotional at the thought of Lewis and Clark’s expedition. Bizarre to have that thought at this rest stop, you ask? Yes, but it happened. Also saw a sign that said early settlers called the Blue Mountains the “Boo” Mountains. Got a kick out of talking to the dairy farmer from Vale, OR, who said, “D.C. Wow! You guys are a long way from home.” We talked for ten minutes or so about his recent visit, his son the lawyer/star concern pianist, and my “permanent student” status.

Still on 84, moving NE. Stopped next at Deadman Pass, pretty low peak in the Blue Mountains. Gorgeous scenery of two visually distinct but equally massive valleys. Wild flowers in bloom: yellows, blues, purples, whites, oranges, reds, all in varying degrees of intensity and brightness. Lots of healthy pine-type trees, seemingly minus the same beetles that are continuing to ravage pine trees in both the Black Hills and the Rockies. The forest in this area is densely packed, healthy, and looks great.

Random non sequitur: We are now in the throes of Girl with the Dragon Tattoo on audio book. Totally sucked in.

The passenger (me, again) missed the picture of the Welcome to Washington sign.* Took a five minute detour over a big bridge twice and down a dirt road to see the sign – and then almost took the same detour again thanks to a Garmin screw up. We did get to see what must be one of the biggest stop signs in the state (if not the world) – twice!

About 250 miles in, we moved from I-84 to I-82. Shortly thereafter, we stopped again (can you sense a theme developing?), this time in Prosser, WA at a remote-ish gas station in the middle of Washington wine country (the Yakima Valley, to be precise). Interesting combination of wine industry (Mexican day laborers, wine for sale everywhere) and the standard trappings of a poor, rural town (cheap fishing gear, chewing tobacco signs).

The food was more interesting here than in most gas stations, however. Lots of Mexican food (fried burritos and other stuff) and other unexpected treats (e.g., fried chicken parts). For us: two jalapeno poppers and a B.L.U. sandwich. The poppers were very good (LVL: “these are le-GIT”); the sandwich was shit. A completely round, once-frozen, processed “chicken” patty together with one slice of some mystery deli meat and some congealed cheese in a dry hamburger bun. Inedible.

Tired drivers = lots of stops. This time we were wooed by a huge barn in some small town (the name of which we can’t remember) off of I-82 advertising FRESH, LOCAL FRUIT AND VEGETABLES (or something like that). About 100 miles from Seattle, we couldn’t resist. Though we were able to get some coffee, the place was a mild disappointment. The fruit looked neither “fresh” nor particularly “local,” and certainly not the type of stuff we expected to find at a farmer’s market. Anyway, after a short tour of the antiques (read: junk**) on the second floor, we picked out some pickled asparagus and four pieces of salt water taffy*** and got out of there.

From I-82 to I-90 west. Seattle in our sights, but not before we make our way through the Cascades. Mount Rainier, Mount St. Helens, etc. Lake Sammamish is one of the most scenic mountain lakes I’ve seen. Absolutely beautiful (and when the driver thinks so, probably pretty dangerous). We tried to pull over to check it out, but couldn’t find an appropriate exit/scenic view point. Weird.

90 coming in to Seattle. Pine trees, sail boats on the water, lots of cool bridges, skyline off in distance, in view for the last 10 miles or so. Very exciting, especially after such a long ass day in the car. Furthest west I’ve been in a long time and my first time back to the Pacific Northwest in probably 20 years. Mood tempered only slightly by the heavy traffic in to the city.

Checked in to the Hotel Vintage Park on Fifth and Spring. Smack in the middle of downtown Seattle, across the street from the most interesting public library I’ve ever seen, and three blocks from the water. Not a bad location, and great weather. Sunny, warm, beautiful.

Travelling so long we’re already reminiscing about funniest pic of the trip (four bald dudes from Chi is up there, as are the several self-taken “couples” pics in front of major monuments, etc); longest day (today second longest only to trip from Devils Tower to CO in the driving rain); and favorite spot (it changes day-to-day).

Dinner with Zoey at a place called Nijo Sushi. Another night, another patio table, great food/service. Lots of fun to see her, and to be able to check out her new hometown. Zoey’s laugh is loud, infectious, and super great. I love it. Ended the night waiting with her (and several homeless people) on the corner of Sixth and Pike for the number 10 bus to Capitol Hill. The walk home brought this to mind: Seattle is hillier than I would have guessed.

*In my defense, it was unexpected, smaller than most, and hidden by trees. [Ed. note: Yes. That's true-ish.]

**Speak for yourself, Chanin. Beauty is in the eye of the (packratty, "junk"-loving) beholder. If we had room in the car (or our DC apartment), I just might have purchased a vintage dress form, any of a zillion mid-20th century magazine ads to frame, or a crate of old milk bottles.

*** I don’t like Salt Water T and neither does LVL, but for some reason I felt compelled to buy some. Who knows why. Maybe at a subconscious level it was to annoy the VERY unfriendly coffee/check-out chick, who gave an overly dramatic, “I’ll have to WEIGH it, sir” when I asked her to add four pieces to our bill. In fact, those four pieces totaled $0.48. Good thing she weighed them. You’d think in her infinite wisdom and vast experience she had been able to discern that each piece costs between $0.11 and $0.13, no matter the color or flavor.

A semi-late start to the day. Both pretty tired from the drive, etc. The wedding work/stress might also still be weighing us down. Went to meet Zoey at her apt on 15th and Denny in Capitol Hill. After a quick tour, some pictures, and a bit of visiting, we took to the streets in search of coffee and some food.

Big Z’s neighborhood is pretty cool. A stretch of shops, restaurants/bars, interesting cityscape, and several residents, some with abundant civic/neighborhood pride (e.g., 1) the picketers out front of Walgreens, protesting the company’s drug-related policies; 2) the old cigarette smoker protecting the city’s arboretum from budget-based cuts).

We asked two hipsters for a lunch/brunch reco and they pointed us to Coastal Kitchen, on the corner of 15th and Republican, a popular place that changes the theme of its menu every season. Interesting concept, and if the hip dudes like it, I’m in, especially with the recent transition to Greek food for the summer. My asiago-spinach mac and cheese stole the show, but LVL’s goat cheese rumble and Zoey’s red pepper soupa (as it appeared on the menu) and Greek salad weren’t bad either.

From there, we took a quick walk to Volunteer Park and from there to Lakeview cemetery. Z thought Jimmy Hendrix was buried there, but (as far as we can tell) she was wrong. His grave was moved to Renton, WA a few years ago. We (and at least 10 other kung fu minded tourists) did take a moment to honor Bruce and Brandon Lee, however.

Through more of Volunteer Park to Broadway, home to at least three Pho restaurants, lots of gay pride flags (this weekend is pride weekend in Seattle), and tons of small, independent coffee shops. Capitol Hill makes for great walking: flowers, plants, grass, trees in abundance; great views of the water/mountains; world class people watching.* Very impressed with how many people are out and about, enjoying both the sun and the summer warmth. Apparently, people here are not bothered by the trappings of 9 to 5.

LVL and Z take a moment for some thrift store shopping. After getting kicked out for taking pictures (“Sir, Crossroads does not allow photography inside the store. Thank you.), I wandered up and down Broadway on my own. Maybe apart from the coffee trailers, this stretch of Broadway could be a cross between South Street in Philly, 8th Ave in NYC, and 18th St. in DC. Zoey and I settled for a beer (she preferred the park; we flipped a coin and I won) while LVL tried stuff on.

Split up for the trip from Capitol Hill back downtown, where we had designs on Pike’s Place Market. LVL and me by foot; Z by bus. 25 mins or so (and several interesting photo ops) later, we arrived at the Market. Pretty cool to see the big, famous “Public Market” sign walking as we walked down the hill toward the market itself. Lots of fun stuff to check out, including several flower vendors, cherry stands, tie dye shirt places, jewelry, etc.

Also lots of great food stalls. Vegetables, beans, pastas, teas, sausages, meats, and (of course) fish and other seafood places. Probably, you’ve seen/heard about the place where they throw the fish. Not much in the way of commerce (actually, I bought a t-shirt), but lots of pics and fun to finally check it out.**

One melancholy moment at Pike’s: near Pike’s Place Fish Market, an older woman was trying but couldn’t hold up her companion, who was drunk/sick/inrealtrouble and bracing himself with a big plastic trash bin (the kind on wheels, used by grounds keepers to take out a building’s trash). His face was super pale (like not at all healthy, white/green), his shirt was dotted with wet spots (presumably spit), and his breath smelled somewhat of alcohol. Just after I helped him up, one of the fishmongers called security and soon he was surrounded. Hope he’s ok.

Anyway, back to my description of our over-indulgent road trip.

After the market, we walked down to the water. Hung out on pier 62/63 and took pics while admiring the view of Puget Sound, the Space Needle, and so on. All great. I agree completely with Zoey when she says how much she loves the smell of salt water.

A quick walk to Anthony’s Bell Street Diner. A spot outside with a view of the water (mostly boats, actually) hit the spot. So too did the food (Zoey: grilled shrimp; LVL: a very pretty ahi salad, with mango, avo, and other good stuff; me: clam chowder and muscles in a lemon sauce and melted butter for dipping).

Quality meal, maybe in spite of our neophyte-with-false-confidence waitress. Her thing: heavy on the upsell (Can I offer you a strawberry lemonade? How about some clam chowder? What about a salad to go with that?), dark sunglasses, awkward dish placement/pickup (rookie ass move: with two finished plates in her left hand, she used her right to ask LVL to hand her the finished ahi salad.), and unsolicited bravado (I’m a double major and a double minor at Queens College in NYC!). Mocking her was arguably the best part of the meal.

After dinner we walked up to our hotel, dropping Zoey off at the bus. While making plans for tomorrow, we were subjected to a full blown fist fight, which ended in one tall guy landing several face punches and knocking a shorter dude down, in a weird (and worrisome) collapse. Our best guess:

1) all Cubs fans;
2) tall guy jealous of short guy’s friendship with tall guy’s wife, who insists on keeping her ample bosom mostly (almost entirely) in plain sight;
3) short guy, very drunk, half-heartedly punches tall guy;
4) tall guy, also very drunk, doesn’t like to be hit (or cuckolded), punches back, several times
5) after being hit in the face two or three times, short guy takes one final blow and does a very strange two-step wobble and then collapses, face first on the sidewalk

Blood spills; tall guy storms off; wife screams/cries/wails, all with boobs perilously close to popping out; short guy/punchee, and a friend (who, unconcerned with the fight, manages to take his undermost t-shirt off and put what was the outer t-shirt back on, bearing his man-boobs in the process) all get in a cab. People on all four corners gawk, as do passers-by. The one cop in the vicinity doesn’t even look.

After the fight, stomachs turning and a bit upset about what we just witnessed, we said goodbye to Zoey and walked the three or so blocks back to the hotel. On way, we decided to hang out (and blog!) in the hotel bar.

Seated outside on the patio with a perfect view of the library and all passing traffic. Enjoyed a few “barley pops” (not sure our waiter could physically say the word beer), while blogging the night away.*** Dueling computers, not much conversation, and lots of keystroke click-clicking. Totally enjoyable, and just what we needed.****

* Hipstero Seattleus (HS) a common sighting. Tight jeans (both short and long), mustaches (worn both ironic- and un-ironically), flowery dresses, faux-hawks and other (un)enviable hair choices, and – perhaps most conspicuously – tattoos. From cupcakes and Japanese koi to umbrellas and cheesy phrases, HS prefers to adorn itself in unnatural inks. Placement is both abundant and varied.

** LOTS of Cubs fans in Seattle right now, on account of inter league play. Today, we hear, the Cubs beat the Mariners.

*** He can. After several references to “barley pops,” he just said, “I’ll be right back with that beer.”

**** Just as we were paying and packing up, some nerdy college aged dude walk by wearing a jersey. Kobe Bryant’s high school jersey (#33, Lower Merion HS). Really?

LVL up early for a run; I stayed back in order to pack our gear up. Moving day, after all. By 10 am or so, we were mostly packed and ready to start taking stuff down to the car, which continued to be kept in the hotel’s $30/day valet parking arrangement (we checked, and there weren’t any other reasonable options).

Together, the hotel concierge (an arrogant, disingenuous, Asian dude; aka The Smug, or The Unapologetic) and the valet guy (a tall, brain dead, goon of a Caucasian fellow; aka The Dolt, or The Big Douche) refused to let me bring a luggage rack up to our room. The refrain: “Hotel policy, sir.” Despite articulating a strong preference to do it ourselves (“we’re on a long trip, have a lot of stuff, and have been packing and unpacking it in a very specific way for almost 6 weeks”), they refused to let us load our luggage into our car. “Hotel policy.”

You would think that for the price of these rooms and the $30 valet fee, we could have complete, unfettered access to the car, whenever/for whatever. You’d also think that such a fancy, expensive hotel, would let its guests handle their own luggage needs (we have luggage needs!), whatever they may be. In each case, we were both surprised and very disappointed/dissatisfied/disgruntled (or any number of others words, whether prefixed with dis- or un-, family friendly or otherwise).

After bitching a little more, I relented, agreeing to let The Dolt meet me upstairs fifteen minutes later with the luggage cart. He would load the cart, store it somewhere while we’re out sightseeing, and then pack the car when we’re ready to go. Not convenient or rational. At all.

Also not super pleasant to listen to The Dolt try pathetically to make small talk (“How do you like Seattle? What did you do yesterday?”) while loading the cart. Grating under most circumstances, but especially so after he blithely enforced a ridiculous hotel “policy” (seemingly) in the name of getting a tip from us. Mr. Dolt, sir, tip = not fucking likely. Awkward interchange made even worse because it took place as LVL was getting dressed, Zoey was on the computer searching for a restaurant, etc. and we were all anxious to get our last few hours of touristy work in. Not very cool: three angry people and one jumbo asshole in a room the size of a paper bag.

The packing/exit debacle was too bad. The hotel was heretofore really nice, convenient, and a fun place to stay. It did, however, get us all talking about the people in Seattle. In her 2 months or so as a resident, Zoey has found Seattleites to be hipper-than-thou, smug, and generally unfriendly. Over the last two days or so, we have found some evidence in support of that and certainly enough to annoy us along the way. From hotel jerks, to waiters, hostesses, baristas, and barmaids, people on the streets and (especially) in service jobs, have not been all that friendly/nice. Too bad, bec I really like the city.

Enough with the downer stuff. Today’s primary task: Space Needle. On our walk there, we stop to eat at Fare Start, a non-profit restaurant who’s mission is to give homeless/last chance people some food-related job training and some career skills. Great cause, good food. Tofu nuggets were especially memorable.*

From there to the KEXP studios, where Zoey’s roommate works. The station is a touchstone of Seattle’s hipster scene.** Also an early adopter to the Internet and a leader in terms of podcasts, etc. Lots of great live shows, new stuff from “indie” bands, and so on.

From KEXP a few blocks to the Space Needle. Very cool to see in person. Obvious comment of the day: It’s huge. It’s also (seemingly, hopefully) very well built. Not sure how many times it’s been refurbished since 1962 [Ed. note: And, no, the editor doesn’t have time to look that up right now.], when construction was completed, but it looks to be in great shape. I loved the interesting angles, exposed beams, and odd rays of light that come through the structure. Views from the top were great, despite the clouds and cold/windy weather.

Cabbed back to the hotel, already late to exit for Portland. Quick goodbye’s to the hotel staff***, the city, and Zoey, and we were on the road. Wish we had more time with Z. She was such a great host and great travel companion. Even mundane activities were more fun with her (and her incredible, mood-lifting laugh) along for the ride.

Perhaps in our haste to get on the road to Portland, I lost track of the Nikon. Not sure how/why it happened, but after a minute or two in the car, I asked LVL if she had seen it. She hadn’t. We pulled over, she ran back to the hotel, and found it sitting in the lobby on a bench by the window, right where I left it. Close-ass call.

Adrenaline pumping, emotions a wild mix, we left Seattle for I-5 and Portland.

* Also memorable (to LVL at least; I didn’t notice): The loud-talker at the table next to us who was so concerned with her stories to notice that her button down had opened completely, exposing bra, etc. to the entire pacific NW.

** Zoey: “Everyone in Seattle likes to say they listen to KEXP. Most probably don't.”

*** In the end, we tipped the cleaning lady ($5), The Dolt ($2), and another valet guy ($3). No reason to be petty, right?