The day was not hot which was best.
We hit the road around 11 and were making for our Northern Most and truly culmination destination, Bainbridge Island, Washington and Michelle’s heart and soul cousins.
The first surprise was that the GPS stubbornly wouldn’t direct me on to I5 towards Seattle due to “traffic conditions.” This seems like pure hubris on the part of the device and I tried to buck it once, and it just forcefully directed me back to the country roads that followed the freeway north.
Okay, thank you.
It was SOOOOOO much better! The highway was wide and walked right along with the freeway but stayed in Oregon, that part of Oregon that budges up as the Columbia works it’s uneasy way to the sea. We went on for a while and he got to indulge in serviced gas once more before crossing the big bridge into Washington.
“I love you in Oregon and I love you in Washington!” Whenever Michelle’s family crossed a state border, they would call this out. I continue the tradition.
It was a pretty peaceful drive about halfway there, but longer than I expected. We finally crossed under Interstate 5 and saw the reason that the GPS was wiser than I, it was packed in both directions. Whew! Country roads here we come.
There is no easy way to work your way into the islands and peninsulas that surround Puget Sound. You go from one road to another, all bursting with chaotic greenery on all sides, a body of water here and there, could be fresh, could be saline, and it isn’t until you get to the Bremerton area that you are sure because the tide lines are pronounced. Oh, and there are battleships, and you can sense you are being watched.
Later, Cousin Bruce will remind me, as we sit in the Eden-like splendor of Bainbridge, that as tensions rise with Russia, we can rest easy knowing that here we are Ground Zero. It will be over before it begins.
Somewhere in here the odometer crossed 50,000 miles. (150,000 actually. Though careful readers will recall that the cable disconnected for a bit so, technically, we crossed it a couple of hundred miles earlier, though careful statisticians will recall that the odometer is off and adds one tenth of a mile every two miles so… Okay, I’ll stop now.)
Finally, we twist, turn and bridge our way on to the island and allow GPS lady to take us to Kerry’s delightful condo. It is home as surely as home can be.