posted by dave on Sunday, November 22, 2009 at 9:34 PM in category travel

...and sixty-nine to go.

Seems like such a long time. An eternity. An eternal time and an infinite distance separate us. I wish with all my heart that those were the only things standing between us. Because the time will lessen and, in sixty-nine days, so will the distance. Both will eventually dwindle to zero, but we'll still be apart.


I don't think I did anything Wednesday or Thursday or Friday. Nothing except work and sleep and go to this one place called Boston's right up the road from my hotel. They have good beer, and great food. I could almost see myself hanging out there all the time, except it's a little too bright, and the people are just a little too focused on the sports constantly playing on the televisions. I could never completely fit in there, but it'll do in a pinch.

Wait, maybe it was Friday night that I went to this Slo Pitch bar. It was kind of a dive, but the weirdoes there were more like my kind of weirdoes.

And Saturday morning it was nice outside so I drove to Mt. Baker. At least I attempted to. It was cloudy, and I never did see that mountain. Still haven't, actually. And I wasn't going to climb to the top anyway, being dressed as I was and old as I am. But I did drive up a few thousand feet, well above the snowline. It was very pretty up there.

When I got back to Bellingham Saturday afternoon, it was raining again. So I just dicked around and checked out a couple of bars and a brewpub. Nothing special.

Then Sunday morning I drove to the water. The Northern end of Puget Sound. Once again, everything was all very pretty. It was very tempting, both Saturday and Sunday, to stop my car every few feet and take a picture. But I didn't do that. I just took a few pictures. Nothing obsessive.

Then Sunday afternoon I went to this Archer's Ale House place. They had a pretty good beer selection, and I talked to a fellow beer snob for an hour or so. He recommended about a dozen more places for me to visit while I'm in Western Washington.

And nobody cares. And I barely care myself.

Sixty-nine days to go...

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