"and we wonder who we are"
Sep. 10th, 2009 04:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jazzfishThe only problem with going to see Ponyo on Tuesday night was that I'd planned on using Tuesday night to pack. So instead I knocked off work an hour early on Wednesday and frantically stuffed things into my suitcase, then drove up to BWI.
Digression: Driving to BWI has its advantages, mostly that it takes an hour less than public transit (except when it's pouring, like last time). It's also a lot more stressful and more expensive. I'm likely done with driving out there at this point.
Anyway. The TSA goons were moderately suspicious of my crepe maker (it is French, after all) but they eventually let me through. While trying to repack everything I snapped the shoulder strap on my laptop bag. Stupid TSA. Sat in the Very Back Seat on the plane, which meant I couldn't sleep (no way to lean the seat back) but had lots of sideways space (only two seats back there, for some reason). Arrived in SeaTac at 10:30ish to be met by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
nixve, and we rolled into B'ham around one or so and crashed.
Thursday morning I made birthday crepes, accompanied by homemade nutella (hazelnut butter and chocolate shavings; works surprisingly well) and whipped cream (ridiculously easy to make! I had no idea!), and we spent the day lazing around. I think there was sushi and ice cream and also The Last Unicorn in the evening. It had been way too long since I've seen it, and she never had. It's sad and beautiful and the Rankin/Bass people look almost out of place against the gorgeously painted backdrops. Also, I maintain that you have not lived until you've heard Alan Arkin say "I am Schmendrick the Magician, the last of the red-hot swamis."
The original plan called for us to spend Friday through Sunday backpacking in the Cascades. Speed-packing presented the first obstacle to this plan: I'd neglected to pack a warm overshirt or a rain jacket. A trip to a thrift store solved this problem, more or less (I look utterly ridiculous in the thick grey stretch turtleneck that seems to be the uniform of the Pac-NW hipster), and a second trip to REI had me outfitted with a pack and sleeping bag.
We got to the trail head at around five and headed out. Backpacking's an odd beast: it uses some different muscles than either running or normal walking. Probably just as well we only went three miles the first day. At one point I was in front, and turned a corner in the trail and stopped and said "Holy cow!"nixve was grumpy at me until I started moving again, and then she got around the corner and said "Holy cow!" Ten feet in front of us was a "stump", taller than me, absolutely covered with bright red/orange shelf mushrooms. (I'm guessing as to the ID; it looks about right. We did not eat any.) And also a handful of banana slugs, white and Olive Drab and grey, and lots of ferns, and a generally beautiful conifer-and-maple forest.
We reached the campsite just as the sprinkling started. Got the tent set up, gathered firewood (mostly green, rotted, or damp), had dinner, watched the sun set. . . and then the rain set in. We abandoned efforts to start the fire and spent most of the next eighteen hours in the tent. At least we had a good view of the rising creek the next morning (fifty feet below, but still impressive). The mist spiraling up from the water and wrapping itself around the trees made me happy, too.
So after a dismal breakfast and a lot of back-and-forth-ing, we decided to declare victory and go home. Naturally the rain let up by the time we were back on the trail, so we did a lot more second-guessing of the decision, but wound up sticking by it. We took our time wandering back, visiting huge trees and climbing around on rocks and such. A really good trip overall, if shorter and damper than I would have liked.
Satyrday evening we recovered from being Damp. Pho was involved.
Sunday was pancakes (and my reiterated dislike of unfamiliar stoves) and experimental blackberry crisp inspired by the recipe for strawberry-rhubarb crisp in Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. H came down from Marblemount for dinner, and turns out to be an extraordinarily easy person to talk to and with. Conversation could have gone on for hours, I think; sadly, she had a two-hour drive home, so had to call it an early night. (Also, she informed us that the rain had continued up in the mountains for pretty much the rest of Satyrday and on into Sunday. So that was alright.)
On Monday we went blackberrying (the shocking lateness of berry season up there has still not worn off) and then sat on top of a waterfall and Arted: I finished the Scene From Hell and knocked off another one that may or not belong, and she sketched a maple and a blackberry. I could have done with some better back support; other than that, it's a highly recommended experience. I like my Neo a lot. Then we tried to get dinner in a town where everything was closed for Labor Day (?!), ended up having different sushi, and watched Mirrormask again ("My pages taste excellent but are stickier than toffee and harder to chew"). The opening scene from that movie will always delight me, I think. As will the Rabbit Band.
Tuesday I crammed everything back into my suitcase (leaving behind the horrendous turtleneck pullover and the plastic raincoat) and we headed down to Seattle. Had lunch with D, and visited a game store and several of the many used bookstores that litter the landscape. I bought surprisingly little, being keenly aware of how difficult it was going to be to pack anything else, or carry things without a shoulder strap for the laptop bag. I think I walked away with a couple of paperbacks, a pair of books foruilos, and a collected edition of The Tick 1-6 in color to replace my very beat-up copy. (The first issue of The Tick contains some of the best, most original, most offbeat gags I've seen anywhere, from the first full-page panel on through. I forget sometimes just how funny it is.) And also games and swings in the park, and clambering around on a house being knocked over by a giant.
And then onto a plane, and onto another plane in Atlanta, and to BWI, and I stepped out the airport door and immediately gagged on the humidity.
It was a good trip. I suppose it could have been better but I'm hard pressed to say how. Not ending, I suppose. I miss that sense of freedom and connection and desire to be. And also the wondrously soft cool weather. It's getting on time to leave here.
Update: Now with pictures.
Digression: Driving to BWI has its advantages, mostly that it takes an hour less than public transit (except when it's pouring, like last time). It's also a lot more stressful and more expensive. I'm likely done with driving out there at this point.
Anyway. The TSA goons were moderately suspicious of my crepe maker (it is French, after all) but they eventually let me through. While trying to repack everything I snapped the shoulder strap on my laptop bag. Stupid TSA. Sat in the Very Back Seat on the plane, which meant I couldn't sleep (no way to lean the seat back) but had lots of sideways space (only two seats back there, for some reason). Arrived in SeaTac at 10:30ish to be met by
nixve, and we rolled into B'ham around one or so and crashed.Thursday morning I made birthday crepes, accompanied by homemade nutella (hazelnut butter and chocolate shavings; works surprisingly well) and whipped cream (ridiculously easy to make! I had no idea!), and we spent the day lazing around. I think there was sushi and ice cream and also The Last Unicorn in the evening. It had been way too long since I've seen it, and she never had. It's sad and beautiful and the Rankin/Bass people look almost out of place against the gorgeously painted backdrops. Also, I maintain that you have not lived until you've heard Alan Arkin say "I am Schmendrick the Magician, the last of the red-hot swamis."
The original plan called for us to spend Friday through Sunday backpacking in the Cascades. Speed-packing presented the first obstacle to this plan: I'd neglected to pack a warm overshirt or a rain jacket. A trip to a thrift store solved this problem, more or less (I look utterly ridiculous in the thick grey stretch turtleneck that seems to be the uniform of the Pac-NW hipster), and a second trip to REI had me outfitted with a pack and sleeping bag.
We got to the trail head at around five and headed out. Backpacking's an odd beast: it uses some different muscles than either running or normal walking. Probably just as well we only went three miles the first day. At one point I was in front, and turned a corner in the trail and stopped and said "Holy cow!"
nixve was grumpy at me until I started moving again, and then she got around the corner and said "Holy cow!" Ten feet in front of us was a "stump", taller than me, absolutely covered with bright red/orange shelf mushrooms. (I'm guessing as to the ID; it looks about right. We did not eat any.) And also a handful of banana slugs, white and Olive Drab and grey, and lots of ferns, and a generally beautiful conifer-and-maple forest.We reached the campsite just as the sprinkling started. Got the tent set up, gathered firewood (mostly green, rotted, or damp), had dinner, watched the sun set. . . and then the rain set in. We abandoned efforts to start the fire and spent most of the next eighteen hours in the tent. At least we had a good view of the rising creek the next morning (fifty feet below, but still impressive). The mist spiraling up from the water and wrapping itself around the trees made me happy, too.
So after a dismal breakfast and a lot of back-and-forth-ing, we decided to declare victory and go home. Naturally the rain let up by the time we were back on the trail, so we did a lot more second-guessing of the decision, but wound up sticking by it. We took our time wandering back, visiting huge trees and climbing around on rocks and such. A really good trip overall, if shorter and damper than I would have liked.
Satyrday evening we recovered from being Damp. Pho was involved.
Sunday was pancakes (and my reiterated dislike of unfamiliar stoves) and experimental blackberry crisp inspired by the recipe for strawberry-rhubarb crisp in Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. H came down from Marblemount for dinner, and turns out to be an extraordinarily easy person to talk to and with. Conversation could have gone on for hours, I think; sadly, she had a two-hour drive home, so had to call it an early night. (Also, she informed us that the rain had continued up in the mountains for pretty much the rest of Satyrday and on into Sunday. So that was alright.)
On Monday we went blackberrying (the shocking lateness of berry season up there has still not worn off) and then sat on top of a waterfall and Arted: I finished the Scene From Hell and knocked off another one that may or not belong, and she sketched a maple and a blackberry. I could have done with some better back support; other than that, it's a highly recommended experience. I like my Neo a lot. Then we tried to get dinner in a town where everything was closed for Labor Day (?!), ended up having different sushi, and watched Mirrormask again ("My pages taste excellent but are stickier than toffee and harder to chew"). The opening scene from that movie will always delight me, I think. As will the Rabbit Band.
Tuesday I crammed everything back into my suitcase (leaving behind the horrendous turtleneck pullover and the plastic raincoat) and we headed down to Seattle. Had lunch with D, and visited a game store and several of the many used bookstores that litter the landscape. I bought surprisingly little, being keenly aware of how difficult it was going to be to pack anything else, or carry things without a shoulder strap for the laptop bag. I think I walked away with a couple of paperbacks, a pair of books for
uilos, and a collected edition of The Tick 1-6 in color to replace my very beat-up copy. (The first issue of The Tick contains some of the best, most original, most offbeat gags I've seen anywhere, from the first full-page panel on through. I forget sometimes just how funny it is.) And also games and swings in the park, and clambering around on a house being knocked over by a giant.And then onto a plane, and onto another plane in Atlanta, and to BWI, and I stepped out the airport door and immediately gagged on the humidity.
It was a good trip. I suppose it could have been better but I'm hard pressed to say how. Not ending, I suppose. I miss that sense of freedom and connection and desire to be. And also the wondrously soft cool weather. It's getting on time to leave here.
Update: Now with pictures.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-10 08:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-11 05:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-11 01:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-10 09:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-11 12:31 am (UTC)It /is/ cheaper to fly out of, pretty consistently. I don't know whether Dulles or National is more expensive for the places I tend to go. I hate Dulles with a passion that most travelers reserve for O'Hare. I would dearly love to fly out of National instead, but, well, $100 difference in ticket prices.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-11 12:38 am (UTC)I'm okay with Dulles; I'll be far more okay when they fire up the trains and pull the dieselboxes.
no subject
Date: 2009-09-11 02:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-11 05:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-09-10 11:53 pm (UTC)I agree 110 percent.
It sounds like you had a really great time! I'm happy to hear it. ^^ I enjoyed reading about it, thanks for sharing!
no subject
Date: 2009-09-11 05:19 am (UTC)