Pragmatist
Pragmatist

Arrived in Portland on schedule at 6:50 Wednesday morning.  Had a layover approximately 40 minutes, then 15 minutes to Vancouver.  We crossed the Columbia River.  It's not as wide as the Mississippi, but it's grand anyway.  Beautiful river.

Megan got off work at 7:00, and figured she'd just make it from where she worked to the bus station.  She was waiting for me.  It took another hour to get to Yacolt, and tired as I was, my eyes were a-goggle at the beauty of the area.

Sacramento is sometimes called the City of Trees, but Portland is really the City of Trees.  And all the way to Vancouver, and all the way to Yacolt.  Megan commented that she counted eight different shades of green, and I took a picture of an area where I counted eight shades of green.  !!  If I can figure out how to get the pictures from my puter to DD, you'll see what I mean.

I wanted to stop and have breakfast somewhere, but Megan wanted to get home and have breakfast there.  So since she was driving.......

We went through several small towns, but the only one of note was Battle Ground.  There must be a reason for that name, but I haven't Googled it yet.  Trees and yet more trees.  Cinema, Fred Meyer store (like mega-WalMart, only nicer), several kinds of shops and fast food places.  Pretty homes and apartment buildings.  And roads in excellent repair.

And that brings me to Washington DOT.  When they resurface roads, they don't waste any time.  From Battle Ground to the turn-off to Yacolt, the roadway was being resurfaced.  I figured they did about 10 miles a day.  Another thing about Washington drivers.  They're polite.  The resurfaced roadways hadn't been marked for lanes and such, but drivers pulled over to let faster cars go by, regardless of whether or not there was striping.

We stopped at Fred Meyer's and got some groceries.  The roadway to Yacolt ran parallel with Lewis River (actually not much more than a creek), and the homes built on either side of the river seemed to melt into the scenery.  Except one mansion that was being built with towers and stuff.  Maybe by the time it's painted it will blend in, but architecturally it's out of place.  The owner had put a sign out inside the fenced construction area.

                                              POACHERS
                                                WILL BE 
                                                  SHOT

Fair warning, wouldn't you say?

When we got home Rowena was all yawny and sleepy-eyed, but glad to see me.  KK remembered me, and Psycho welcomed me.  Miss Moe (nee Oreo) was happy to make my acquaintance.  The rabbits were ho-hum.

I gotta tellya, the house is beautiful.  Almost new, and because of the former tenants, the carpeting is brand new.  The owners are putting up a fence, though fences aren't common in that area.  Yacolt is a typical small town.  Few sidewalks, hardly any fences, several mobile homes and recreational vehicles.  A grade school, a civic center and a mom & pop grocery pretty much finish up the town.

Megan's place is less than a mile from the foot of a mountain that is heavily forested.  I caught a glimpse of a home built up a little ways, but so many trees it was impossible to see the whole house.  The mountain is to the west of Megan's house, but it takes awhile for the sun to hit it in the morning.  There are equal mountains to the east, and it takes some time for the sun to tip the mountains.  The mornings are usually overcast, but when the skies clear before noon, the mountains show at least eight shades of green.

The air was so clean I couldn't even smell it.

The water is drinkable from the tap.

So. Time for some sleep.  Megan has been up all night on the job, and I've been up all night on the bus.  I did manage some cat naps, maybe for a couple hours total, so I'm wiped out.  Too tired even for a shower, although I'm longing for it.

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I hope the next installment won't take so long to get here.  But I've been sick.

Shalom