After touring around Seattle for a few days, we jumped on the ferry to Bainbridge Island - my home for the next six months (well, three now since I'm such a procrastinator and haven't uploaded all of this trip yet). I wanted to look around and get a feel for the town before I officially moved there.
So we drove through the city, trying to figure out where the ferry was. It was a little complicated because they were starting construction on the waterfront. When we finally found the entrance, we were guided to a line of cars where we would wait for the ferry to return.
We got out of our rental car, and what was the first thing my dad saw? A Michigan State license plate cover. Being the social man that he is, he approaches the vehicle and starts a conversation with the woman inside. Come to find out, there is a Michigan State community on the island (which I haven't actually found).
It didn't take long for the boat to arrive, so we got back in our car, drove on the ferry, and took the 30 minute ride to the island. When we made it to Bainbridge, my first impression was that it was cute little town with a homey vibe. There was a farmers market taking place and people flooded the wonderful little shops along the main street. We stopped for lunch at a little cafe, then wandered around until we found the house where I would be living.
Our day was far from over though. We planned to get to Port Angeles that day, so we headed North over the bridge. This was the first time we got to see Washington's wilderness. I have to admit that I dozed off a little bit, but let me assure you, I was fully awake when a certain incident involving my dad happened.
We were driving, watching the trees go by and seeing the mountains get bigger as we approached. We were getting really close to Port Angeles and were driving on a road that looked similar to a expressway in Michigan. As we are cruising, the SUV-type vehicle in front of us puts on their brakes, so my dad gets over and passes them. A few seconds later, I see red and blue lights reflecting and as I look behind, I see the lights of a cop car.
My dad pulls over, saying genuinely that they must've gotten a call and need to get by. He was wrong. They were pulling him over. Although the road looked like an expressway, the speed limit was not 70 mph. The police officer did his usual questioning of how fast he was going and my dad apologized. The cop let him off, but every 5 seconds, I saw my dad peeking in his rearview mirror and then back to the speedometer. It was kinda funny.
We made it to Port Angeles in the evening and took a ride up to Hurricane Ridge. It was beautiful. We saw two families of deer, and a bunny. When we are at national parks, we stop a gazillion times as we drive up the mountain so we can see all the gorgeous views of the mountains, rivers, and landscapes. At a certain point on the way up, we were above the clouds and fog hovered in the mountains below us. It was majestic and one of my favorite parts of the trip.
I actually had the honor of talking to a First Nations master carver for an article that should be coming out this week at yesmagazine.org, so look out for it on the website. It was such a great experience learning about him, his art, and just chatting about life in general.
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