This was a thrilling day. I once again outsmarted Google Maps with my superior intelligence and outstanding wit, but alas, my understanding is Google is not always smarter than a fifth grader therefore, neither am I. I did discover however that Google does not account for road closures, construction detours and road name changes. My eyes do.
Entering Blaine Washington from the Canadian border at 3 mph, I was amazed at how many awe inspiring things have been missed each time I have crossed the border at 60 mph. There were so many things to see, and being an amateur photographer, after taking 30+ pictures in the first hour, I thought perhaps I should limit myself or I would never get to Tijuana.
I also decided on the first day, to drive the next days route because the first walk had me going 4 miles out of the way unnecessarily. So far Google has misdirected me three times, and I missed my street once. Since I have always had this innate built in compass which has yet to fail me, (a trait which I do not believe any of my children have inherited) I have decided to follow my own instincts, even the dangerous ones. So my schedule listed on the website has been changed just a bit.
So far the days have been fun, for the most part beautiful; a bit dangerous at times, and absolutely unforgettable.
Having the Cascade Mountains to the east of me has been as breathtaking a view as my own Mt. Hood. The Hood is so striking that 19 years later I am still in awe each time I see it, but the Cascades are something that is heart stopping for miles up on miles, beginning with Mt. Baker, to Glacier Peak to the Crystal Mountains.
While walking along enjoying the view on Old Hwy 99 in Sylvania, WA I came across a most unusual sight. One which excited me almost as much, simply because it was so out of place against this spectacular backdrop. A row of carburetors sitting on posts. Silly I know, but it was just so unusual I had to take a picture. (See above)
In another part of the days walk, I came across a very narrow bridge. It was two way and the white line I was following only gave 6 inches between me and certain death. Well maybe not death but certainly broken bones. At one point, there were two over sized pick ups that were coming from opposite direction. I held my breath and turned sideways trying to squeeze my deluxe edition sized body into a six inch space. DREAM ON!!! I always wanted a smaller derriere, but this was not quite the way I wanted to get rid of it.
With baited breath, as I was waiting for my demise or the trucks to pass, whichever happened first, I glanced down and there sitting at my feet was a quivering bunny. He was just as scared as I was and I fancy did not want to die alone. The trucks passed, we both took a deep breath and continued on our way. I turned to look back, wishing in my moment of terror that I had remembered my camera. Oh well. As I looked, there in the middle of the bridge sat the bunny and I may have been hallucinating, but I do believe he waved an ear at me.
Several miles later, I came across a herd of cows. There must have been close to 500 of them scattered about on the 50+ acre ranch. There was a huddle of bovine, surrounding a pick up truck. Many that were in the back 40 were running at a full gallop towards the pick up. It was feeding time and no one wanted to miss out. I continued on this very rural road and came across a solitary cow. She stood there watching the others but did not budge. As I stood still watching her, I noticed beneath a nearby bush the tail end of a much smaller version of this dairy queen. She turned and saw that I was watching her. She came close to the fence and although I had nothing to offer her, she allowed me to pet her for a second, and after snapping a picture, Bessie went merrily back to her calf.
Now these two things may not seem so exciting to you, but to this city girl it was the most amazing thing. I pet a cow that wasn't in a petting zoo; I rescued a bunny; came close to great physical impairment and came a cross a cemetery of car parts, all within two hours time. Gee what will I do tomorrow I wonder?