Dear fellow followers of The Adventure,
With Willie Nelson blasting from the stereo our Heros streaked across the eastern Washington plains, leaving Spokane behind in the first hour without a second thought. Head down and smelling the barn (surely Shirley, they had bathed and it was in fact, smelling the barn–rather than the less appealing alternative…)
Idaho and torrential rains had been swiftly left behind and crossing into Washington brought sun and dry pavement. Fortunately the Spot tracks don’t last long so the troopers can’t prove a thing. Dodging Eagles and other critters they summated Snoqualmie Pass and began the downhill run to the barn, er. Issaquah.
Arriving at B’s home in quaint Issaquah they began frantically unpacking Goldie; loading lots of stuff that supposedly will wind up somewhere in RED into B’s garage. Goldie rose an inch or so on his (yes, Goldie is a boy; he just has a colorful name) springs and Johnny Rocket nearly exploded off the roof in relief.
B’s pets: Mal (a bounding Golden Retriever), S (a diminutive 5.65 pound cat (B is after all precise in all things, although one would have expected a metric measure)), M (big black and white cat). Now they each had their own take on Bs return. When queried about B’s absence there was a division along party lines. The Dog slurped; yes, yes, yes, I missed you so much, on the other hand the cats unamously said “You were gone?”
After this reentry to the “real” world they decided that, once more, they would take dinner at a local restaurant haunt of B’s. It was delicious, and F didn’t even have to wonder about the pedigree of the fish on her plate (or the probability of salmonella).
Now, I’m assured by our Heros that this long trip, all of it in each other’s company, has strengthened their friendship. And for once I believe them, at least much more than I believed their predictions of what time they were getting up and leaving!
Campers, we’ve come to the successful end to The Adventure. Think back on it; the first few days were arduous and fraught with danger–severe winter conditions, sparse civilization and few fellow travellers. Turning south out of Fort Nelson things got progressively easier–roads were better, temperatures were warmer and civilization began to be in evidence. Once in the US they traded the solitude, challenge and thrilling beauty of the Canada arctic for the predictable (though still beautiful) well appointed and non-threatening US Northern Tier, with it’s Interstate highways, frequent places to get gas and bottom-off and, at least in Boseman, Montana, home and hearth. They have come a long way in a mere ten days, not a record pace to be sure but one to be proud of. Let’s give ’em an appropriate hand, they’ve earned it!
Your faithful scribe,