Back in the USA!

Left Victoria after a wonderfilled 35 days in Canada, arrived to a dark, soggy Port Angeles. Ate 4 blueberry muffins and some peanut butter for dinner. Met 2 drunk kids who let me stay at the Vatican, on a couch in the garage where I fell into deep slumber after hearing crazy stories of the youth growing up in Port Angeles: dreams of skinny faced alien bear-men; getting drunk, peeing on someone else's parents' bed and laying in it; the legend of the kid who puked on everyone and everything; the quest of the young farmer to sell more salad mix by rubbing the nicotine from his fingers onto the lettuce to get the customers hooked.

Spent the next day pedaling 25 miles along the Olympic Discover trail, no cars, just me and the heaven scented woods slowly being consumed by autumn. On the way I received a message from Pete the Meat (a friend of a port Angeles friend) offering his place just out of Sequim for the night. I was planning on sleeping out but random acts of hospitality are more appreciated than you can imagine. I rolled up Chicken Coop Road to Pete's parents' humble abode on the hill, true Northwest style. We went for a drive up the mountain to catch the sunset and fire some fresh bullets out of Pete's new Glock. I had never fired a handgun but know I know why people love their guns so much. An explosion of fire-power right at your fingertips, leaves your ears ringing and a maniacal grin on your face..."more more MORE!" is what the little psychopath in me was saying. The stars appeared in the silent sky as a reminder that life is just as sweet without guns. We drove further up the mountain to the top at a vantage point where we could see the tungsten glow of Seattle and Victoria - - past, present, and future intertwined in one deep breath -- I slept like baby jesus on the night of his birth, with the entire cosmos resting softly on my eyelids, smiling.