Sleep-Deprived in Seattle

Day 7: Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Driving and sightseeing day: Kent, WA to Seattle, WA to Port Angeles, WA

Features of the Day: Seattle Space Needle, Pike Place Market, downtown Seattle

Night Accommodations: KOA in Port Angeles, WA

The morning began with all-you-can-eat pancakes, where it was determined that I can cram at least six pancakes doused with blackberry and strawberry syrups and whipped cream in my mouth before being stopped for the sake of others' appetites. Typical. Good morning!

This is the part where I admit that when I hear Seattle, I think “Grace” after it; I have been known to watch snippets of Grey's Anatomy. I think this makes me female. And let me say that the aerial shots from that show greatly exaggerate the height of the Space Needle. It's not that tall. That being said, going up to the top was absolutely worth it. People at the Needle were speaking all different languages, and had come from every place you can imagine, to see what Seattle had built in 1962 for the World Fair.

Matthew and I met fellow East Coasters at the top—well, one from Philly, the other possibly German, but still—both of whom I immediately frightened away with my sheer unbridled enthusiasm. Turns out the guy from Philly grew up in Western Mass., which just goes to show that us Bay Staters are everywhere.

Unrelated but amusing: The man who ran me through security was from Montana and practically shook with excitement when he found out I was from Boston and knew Montana was a state. And then I let slip I even knew his state capitol—oh boy! (I rag on Montana a lot, but I am actually really excited to see her.)

Before we headed out of the city, we made a pilgrimage to the Mother of all REIs and she was so worth it. The store has its own forest, its own gorge with a stream, a realistic mountain bike test trail outdoors, a giant rock-climbing wall encased in a glass tower, a mammoth roaring fire in the middle of July, a fabulous play area for kids under 7 (explicitly labeled as such—darn!) reminiscent of The Jungle, and entire trees as the beams holding up the stairs. It was magical.

Unfortunately, we miscalculated how long a drive it was from Seattle to Port Angeles—for future reference, we now know it is four hours, not two—and I drove late at night, along windy roads, in unfamiliar terrain, at a ridiculously slow speed. We're not doing that again. Even better was the fact that our GPS whom I have loving christened Ramona went berserk and kept telling me to literally drive in circles around one section of the freeway after midnight. Oh, Ramona.