Farewell, Washington!

We have officially been on the road a week and we have already met some cool people and had some very cool experiences. We have started to upload our pictures to dropbox, so if you want to see them all (be patient as we add the backstock) then click here.

Cape Disappointment...

We left Long Beach and the rain behind and set off for North Bonneville. We first decided to stop at Cape
Disappointment, primarily due to the name, and it lived up to it. We had to pay $10 to park, so we turned around and found a spot by the side of the road to take pictures. Screw you Washington government!

Mount Hood

We went to the North Bonneville area in hopes of getting to Mount Hood, but it didn't transpire that way. Instead we found ourselves nestled along the Columbia River Gorge - an absolutely stunning area surrounded by rivers and rainforests. We found ourselves a cheap (and available as we left it a bit late to book for labor day) campsite just off the Lewis and Clark Trail. Since this was only our third ever campsite, we were rather confused when there was no front desk, no one in the office building and a sign telling us to help ourselves to a site. But I had made a reservation?! I had requested a back-in space?! We drove around and saw that they had kindly put up a reservation sign for our site, but we really had driven most of the way around the site and reversed into another spot before we saw this sign. But this spot felt much more like camping - surrounded by trees and not packed in so much like sardines. It was deathly quiet. We were afraid to talk too loud it was so quiet. The park also had a permanent trailer park attached to it, and even this was shrouded in cemetery silence. But that was to change the next day. We settled into our site on the first night and had a fire and a beer (or 2).

Beacon Rock

The next day we decided to take a hike up Beacon Rock. It was a couple miles down the main road, so we tucked ourselves over and huge lorries trundled past us. We got there and the view was amazing. The climb up was eased by little stops to appreciate the views over the Columbia River. We were lucky, we seemed to be in between two gluts of people,one going up

View from Beacon Rock

and one going down, so when we got to the top we got a whole 5 minutes of uninterrupted viewing time. We searched out some more little hikes and then continued on back to the campsite.

Since the park didn't have a shop or internet we decided to check out North Bonneville. This is an experience I shan't forget anytime soon. It turns out the town had been relocated just down the road, and whoever designed the new town layout thought they would try something new. It was most surreal. In the 'downtown' section, all the houses were set on a green with big concrete paths going between them. There were no driveways, just an area off to the side that looked like mall parking. Then we saw a sign - it was what we were looking for - cold beer. A menu was up and it was scrawled on a piece of poster paper. Another scrawled sign told us the place was called 'Sweet

Outside Sweet Ricky's

Ricky's'. We were a bit unsure as it was pointing to one of the apartments on the second floor. We went back to the campsite with the idea to build up courage for the next evening to check the place out. I got back and had a much needed shower, at the end of which I realised water was no longer going down the drain. I molt pretty badly, so I presumed my hair had blocked the drain. We tried a gentle plunged - nothing. So we went to look at the pipes underneath and noticed a joint was loose and decided to tighten it. Which of course loosened it . Water started to flood everywhere under the shower and we couldn't get the bloody pipe back on for love nor money. After a lot of panic we realised the grey tank was full, there was no blockage, and we were turning the joint the wrong way. We sopped up the water as best we could and left towels down. We had tested the grey tank by emptying water into a bin, which always sends out a little bit of the black water as well. But all of the water wasn't removed from the waste pipe, so I had to follow along behind to the dump site, carrying the waste pipe with either end up and our pooey water sloshing around in the middle of the pipe. To be fair, Dave got it all over his hands, so we were at an even score. One thing we did notice as we dumped - our shit stinks of garlic. Like, concentrated minced garlic in a jar kind of strong. Even the grey water smells that way. I'd hate to imagine the French sewage system!

That night the campsite was raucous. You know when all the hicks on South Park get drunk and start yelling 'YEAH!' and 'WOOOH!' and high fiving each other? I have now learned that this representation is just that - not an exaggeration but a merely accurate representation of a certain kind of folk. It was extremely funny to listen to, and we hoped to find the culprits passed out in the grass in the morning, clutching an empty beer can. Alas it was not to be so.

We awoke the next morning and decided to take a small walk to a nearby hot springs resort and see if there was anything to do there. On our way out we saw a few people stood around, one holding a stubby fishing pole. We went over and asked what they were doing, and, in short, they "cat fishing." I had seen some

"Cat Fishing"

kittens who had taken residence under the main building and had tried to coax them out with cheese, but these guys had a catnip mouse toy on the end of the fishing wire, trying to tease out these feral kittens. But they weren't just feral, they were smart, and managed to outwit them every time! So, on our way we went, and a small walk turned into a bit of a walk which turned into an epic walk trying to find our way back. The springs was elitist and nouveau riche tacky, so we just kept going, hoping the road would loop around. Luckily it did, but not after a few moments of self doubt. We then decided on another 'short' walk to find somewhere to

swim as it was hotter than we were used to. This took us on another hiking trail trying to find the Columbia River. We found it, after a time, and found water we could wade in after bruising our feet on rocks. All of this was done in good spirits. It was long and tiring and convoluted, but we had nowhere to be and nothing but time, and the thought of this made it all the more enjoyable. That and the incredible scenery everywhere we went.

By this point we definitely deserved a drink, so we prepped ourselves on the approach to the 'bar.' "Just look like we belong there, just look confident, and we'll be fine" "yeah, just don't be awkward." None of this prep was necessary. The bar tender, who was sat outside, greeted us in warm, slurring speech. He was about our age and had a great sense of humour about himself. He was from our trailer park, known to the locals as 'the LC.' There were tables, air hockey, some other arcade games and a karaoke set up that commenced pretty much the moment we stepped through the door at ear drum piercing volume and treble. We were offered BBQ chicken, just out on the bar on offer like chips and peanuts. And it was delicious chicken. We stayed for a couple and said we would be back for dinner and more drinks. Live

Inside Sweet Ricky's

music was just being set up and we wanted to check that out too. We came back and sat out on the porch listening to live music. We ordered a burger each, and they said it was on the house as they were left over from a do that afternoon and would only go to waste anyway. We were feeling all warm and fuzzy inside for this quirky little find. As we sat on the porch, locals came out one by one to talk to us and check us out. We must have been talk of the town, and were considered a very cute couple by all accounts. The night waxed on and we started talking to a group of lads. It was all going well until a joint was produced and passed around. Then the conversation turned to hunting. The guys got a little defensive (even though we were supporting hunting) and the conversation abruptly ended. Lesson: do not smoke a local's weed or discuss hunting. Overall, it was a very cool experience only slightly marred by the abrupt ending, and we all shook hands a wished a good farewell.

It was my turn to drive the next day, so we were out early as my stomach was churning with nervousness. Driving your home around is awesome, but also mentally taxing. If anything happens, it's not just your mode of transport, it's your home. But, I managed to navigate a small bridge, a toll booth, a town, winding roads
and the highway. Once you get used to it, it's great to drive. Better than the pontiac predecessor! So we are now in Oregon, in the high plains desert. More stuff has happened, more cool things to write about, but I'll do that another day. This is enough adventure for one entry!

Overall, still loving it. We find ourselves constantly saying to each other, "This is what it's all about!" to the point where it has become a bit of an in-joke. But in all seriousness, we are constantly reminded why what we are doing is so, well, absolutely awesome.