This weekend I did a mini-excursion up to Seattle. We found a ride off craigslist and drove up through the cloudy greenery from the Oregon border of the Columbia River up through Washington State.
I’m getting to know this three-hour drive a little better each time I go through it. I know we pass through a suburban sprawl area around and north of Vancouver, WA, and then enter an area of vast greenery with lots of RV truck lots on the sides. There is also some redneck sign that’s always standing strong half of the ride through, with a giant cartoon of Uncle Sam dressed in red, white and blue, which always displays some right-wing banter like “Guns, Glory and God: You Keep the Change!” I’m always excited to see what they have to say next. Then down the freeway is the long journey through Tacoma, with the domes and big box stores and malls all glorifying their own development with huge, colorful signs.
Getting to Seattle was fun. Upon entrance in the automobile, I always see the vaguely distinguished skyline with the Space Needle off to the left in the distance, with the beautiful water and hills; also the vast industrial lot of cranes, warehouses and cargo to the immediate left of I-5. The traffic always slows down upon entrance to Seattle’s outskirts, with people changing lanes and getting off and on and around the cluster of connecting roads.
Unfortunately the rainy weather followed us, but despite the clouds and precipitation, it was fun. I enjoy the walk from the Capitol Hill district downhill to the downtown area, past the skyscrapers and to the convention center. I like the faster-paced urban experience and passing some landmarks that I vaguely remember from times before, be it a bleak Greyhound station or a funny pink elephant car wash, to the back and forth journeys of the monorails.
Folklife, the festival I went to, was interesting. Got to walk in and out and above and around examples from lots of different places, seeing little kids kicking off traditional Cossack dances to people playing strange Asian instruments I’ve never seen before but vaguely recognized in some background music I’ve certainly heard at some point in my life.
Folklife had lots of crust punk bands playing washboards and walking their dogs, and some older people strumming guitars and patting wooden boxes to bluegrass beats on benches.
We checked out the urban scene too of course, shopped around at bookstores and record stores, ate at the fine eateries that had pescatarian and ovo-lacto vegetarian versions of Pad Thai, and even a place that prided itself on its New York style pizza, full of illustrations and photographs of good ol’ New York. Rode the city buses and observed the different looks and accents and attitude of different people.
The ride back was nice and sunny. These three hippie girls picked us up in Seattle, who were doing some farm training workshop up at Orcas Island. Back we journeyed to Portland, and everything looked so much different with the golden touch from above. Back down south through the little bridges over the regional rivers to the large bridge over the Columbia River, back to Portland yet again.