Friedrich served as a valuable companion during the trip West, which took us through parts of the country I had never imagined existed in the location they were, uh, located. For example, Coeur d’Alene (which I imagine is French for something inappropriate, a la Grand Teton) is in the vast, lush area of…Idaho. No knocking the ‘Ho, but encountering a lovely little oasis was quite the spectacular find.
We strategically planned our route so as to make a stop at my parents’ home in South Dakota, so as to bypass the visually breathtaking Iowa landscape in the dark of night. But we also greatly anticipated the shores of Seattle, rapidly approaching as the trusty ‘Wu made its way West.
What I hadn’t expected, though, was the peculiar outcropping of mountains just an hour east of my new home, as my assumption was that the only really aggressive mountain out here was this thing, and the one random peak known as “The Mountain”. But lo and behold, just as the smell of sea air hit my nostrils, we traversed the Cascades, and unrequited nature love smacked me ’round a bit.
So, obviously, as an avid traveller, I’m in a bit of a bind as the aptly-named “Winter of Darkness” slowly creeps toward the Sound (note: as I type this we’re encountering a bit of an overcast day). With such landscape around me, and with so many activities during the rainy season to peruse here, where do I go when the rain starts to flow?
It’s a question many Seattleites ask, as I guess some have been a bit hardened by historically long periods of rainfall. And before I jump onto the rusty ole’ Bandwagon, I reminisce about those Indiana winters and ask myself: could it really be that bad?