I leave Camp Granada feeling a bit traumatized. As if my week of campground chaos has not been enough, as I am trying to make a fast and clean getaway, a nice young couple in an 800-4-RENT rig pulls in behind me at the dump station, just as I am gloving up. The man approaches with some trepidation, and in a heavy British accent asks, “Mind if I watch? This is my first time at this, and I don’t know how. I am hoping you don’t mind if I look on?” Continue reading
My Seattle friends Deb and Amy treated me to a day trip to Roslyn, WA, also known as “Cicely, Alaska.” It is always such a treat when anyone offers to drive me ANYWHERE, as I am always behind the wheel, missing the scenery as I am too focused on the road… Continue reading
I gave some thought to cutting my losses at Camp Granada and moving on. After all, it wasn’t about the money. But to do so would have negated the very reason I had driven 125 miles, waited in line for 45 minutes for a $71 ferry, only to give up and drive all the way around via Tacoma to get to Bellevue. To give up would have meant departing sunny Sequim to spend time with my friends Deb and Amy in Seattle, only to leave before I even had the chance to see them. Continue reading