I woke up bright and early 7 am the day of the trip. The night before I had prepared my duffle bag, sleeping bag, and sleeping mat by the front door. Unfortunately, I made the poor life decision of staying up till 2 am the night before so I was quite groggy. Luckily, a hot cup of green tea quickly remedied my fatigue.
After picking up Reeve, Angelo came over to my apartment to give me a lift. I remember my initial reaction upon opening the trunk.
“Are we going to have enough space for Louie?”
The three of us looked at each other and shrugged. We were just going to have to see; there was not much we could do at that point. After pulling up to Louie’s house, we waited for around 15 minutes for him to finish packing up. The poor guy had just finished a night shift at the hospital, so he was starting this trip fully fatigued.
From there it was a long drive to Seattle. To pass the time, we used a Mad-libs-esque method to discover new songs. As an example, someone would say, “Hey Angelo, pick the first bird species that comes to mind. Then pick a number between 1 and 10.” This might sound stupid, but a lot of bangers were discovered during the trip using this method.
As we approached Seattle via the Interstate-5 North highway, the amount of graffiti on the side walls of the highway started to dramatically increase. I wonder when these artists would come out and tag the highway? There were even some tags on the top of concrete pillars not connected to any structures. The only way I can picture people doing this without getting caught, is to have repelling gear and set up at 3 am on a Tuesday morning. Then they would have to hang off the side of the pillar, and sit there for potentially a few hours just to finish the graffiti.
The streets of Seattle were arguably worse than in Vancouver. The city was jaywalker haven as almost every green light turned into a stop sign to avoid running over the pedestrians ignoring the traffic laws. That or we ran into a lot of colorblind individuals.
The closer we got to Pike Place market, the worse the traffic got. At one point, we were stuck waiting in one of the side streets. There was a firetruck blocking traffic and it was slowly trying to turn out of the way. Beside us was another firetruck, trying to cut into the line of traffic that was already blocked. After waiting for 10 to 15 minutes, we finally squeezed by out of the road.
Parking was an incredible hassle to find. Wanting to avoid the unfair rates for lot parking, we circled the blocks adjacent to the market in hopes of finding street parking. One of the lots had a more reasonable rate. Just as we were about to back up into the parking space, we spotted the homeless guy sprawled out on the concrete next to us. We quickly decided that the odds of us coming back to the car’s windows smashed in was too high and promptly left.
Eventually, after about 40 minutes of going round in circles, we found a nice street parking spot about two blocks from the market entrance. The going rate was $8 per hour so we paid for 2 hours and wandered off to the market. The first thing I wanted to see was the famous fish stall where they throw fish across the shop when an order is placed. Unfortunately for us, no fish were thrown during our visit. On the plus side though, I managed to snag an oyster cocktail to snack on.1
Perusing the market, we spotted an abundance of different restaurants in all different cultures. There were also many local stands, selling things ranging from specialty pasta to a stall selling small crafts of pigs. After looping through the market once, we were left indecisive with the sheer number of options available for lunch. Eventually, because Angelo and Louie had never tried it, we settled on going to the renowned Pike Place Chowder located in an alley passage just shy of the main market.
The wait at the restaurant was shorter compared to my recollection of previous visits. Every time I visit, I opt for their market chowder, a chowder made up of the chef’s choice of fresh ingredients. This time it was a chowder using crab, lobster, and shrimp. Reeve got the smoked salmon chowder in the signature sourdough bread bowl. Louie got the chowder sampler, with four 5 oz chowders of his choice, and a shrimp bread roll. Unfortunately, I do not remember what Angelo picked but I’m sure it was great!
As we were leaving the market, we stopped by the golden pig statue near the entrance of the market. There were a couple families with children taking pictures of the kids riding on the page. Naturally, Angelo too had to get a photo of him riding the hog.2
Of course, no trip to the Pike market would be complete without a visit to the gum wall. The four of us looked at the walls riddled with stale, dried, chewing gum with both awe and disgust. We made our way back to the car, off to our next destination.
Unlike the parking for the Pike Place market, it was much easier to locate a parking space here. Not to mention, the rates were much cheaper. We parked in a lot a few blocks down from the shop and made our way over. On the other side of the wooden double doors was the strong aroma of roasted coffee beans. There were large metal canisters and pipes in the background, each one with its own purpose in the coffee roasting process. To the left of the doors, was the main bar area where you would order your drinks and pastries. The right side contained all the Starbucks merchandise you can buy, as well as the alcohol bar. Hanging above, were clear tunnels funneling the coffee beans through the interior of the Reserve. Least to say, it was quite a treat for the eyes, especially for the coffee fanatics out there.
My last visit to the Starbucks Reserve in Seattle was during my freshman year at University. Back then, two other friends and I did a tour of the coffee shops in Seattle and hit up the Tulalip buffet afterwards. During this trip, was when I discovered Starbuck’s Whiskey Barrel-Aged cold brew. So when I had the opportunity to visit again, you bet that was the first thing on my mind entering the store. Angelo, being the coffee fanatic he is, was also eager to try this unique cold brew. To pair with the drink, I opted for an almond cornetto. Unfortunately for us, the store where coffee was being produced had run out of coffee somehow. To make matters worse, we had only paid for an hour of parking. After 30 minutes of waiting, Angelo and I devoured the coffee with intense prowess within 5 minutes. Not quite the savory experience I was hoping for, but at least the food and drink slapped.
From Starbucks, we headed back to our car and left the city. As we left Seattle and drove past Tacoma, the landscape and scenery started to change. We noticed a lot more farm land dispersed between the forests along the highway. Someone pointed out that the Tacoma dome looked like a giant nipple with the flag sticking out of it. After around a half of hour of driving, a slight sense of panic dwelled up within me. Remember how I had those oysters from the fish market earlier? I could feel them start to work their magic powers, and the feeling soon turned into a dull ache within my gut.
“It’s not that bad.” I thought. “I should be fine until we get to Astoria.” Ten minutes after this thought, the discomfort had shot up from a 2 to a 7 out of 10. I let the guys know about the ticking time bomb in me, and we pulled over to a McDonalds. I think the washroom in that McDonalds might hold the record of being the most unhygienic in America. Not only was the toilet not flushed initially, but the entire ground was flooded in piss. I quickly did my business in an ab crunch position3 to avoid the filth, and we continued towards our destination.
As we approached Astoria, we had to stop for a refuel as the tank was running low. Being from Vancouver, we’re used to the gas being expensive. But to our surprise, upon doing the conversion, we found that the gas price in Washington wasn’t much different from our home city. Reeve and I went in to the gas store to buy some snacks for the trip. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something strange in the fridge. It was flavored Bubly in a bottle.
For those unfamiliar, Bubly is a sparkling water sold in a can that has many different “flavors”. By flavors, I mean the water is just scented to smell like the flavor labelled on the can. Now imagine my surprise, when I see this elusive enigma of Bubly. First, it was in a plastic bottle instead of an aluminum can. Second, the flavor was an actual tongue receptor activating taste within the water, that actually TASTED like the flavor listed on the bottle. Having been so used to drinking the normal variety of Bubly, my brain could not keep up with what I was seeing. I quickly snagged it from the fridge and purchased it. Anticipation dwelled up in my throat as I twisted the cap open with a crisp snap, and pulled the drink close to my lips. I let the liquid wash across my palette, savored the taste for a bit, and swallowed.
It was okay.
As the sun began to set, we approached the North end of the Astoria bridge. Built in 1966, the Astoria Bridge has a length of approximately 6.5 km and provides a path between Astoria, Oregon to Point Ellice, Washington. Designed by William A Bugee, this is the longest truss bridge found in North America. Before the bridge was built, the only method of transport between the two ends was by ferry. The bridge remains low to the sea near the North end, before rising up around 200 feet on the South end. With the daylight starting to fade, we made our journey across this historical bridge.
One thing that stood out to us was the amount of dead birds located on the road along the bridge. Corpses, both intact and unrecognizable, littered the tarmac as we tried our best to avoid driving over top of them. Doing some research, we discovered that the reason for so many bird death’s is due to them building their nests on the pillars supporting the bridge. When they fly up from underneath, they often get caught in the windshields of the cars driving by. While the bridge was impressive, the view of the road was straight out of a Stephen King novel.
As we crossed the south end of the bridge, the sun had almost set under the horizon. Night was approaching and we were hungry for our next meal. Looking on google maps, we picked out a nice spot with great reviews, Portway Tavern. We parked and approached the restaurant, the name of the eatery glowing on above the entrance in a neon ambience. The vibe inside was lively, the walls decorated with nautical accessories and tables filled with locals chattering. Interestingly enough, to the side of the restaurant were slot machines for patrons to enjoy.
The menu was ideally sized, and offered eats from burgers to local seafoods. I ordered the halibut and chips and a local IPA for dinner. Angelo made it a statement that while in the States, he would be consuming as many burgers as he could get his hands on. Justifiably, he ordered a burger and fries for his meal.4 The lady who took our order, who I assumed was the owner or manager, had a forward attitude which caught me off guard initially. But while her tone was quite stern, I recognized her kindness throughout the dinner and really appreciated the service she provided. Additionally, the quality of the food was excellent! The halibut was fried perfectly to a golden-brown and the fries were crispy and delicious. The washroom was clean, and there was a chalkboard for customers to leave their messages during their visit.
I would highly recommend this place if you are dropping by Astoria for a quick eat, and I left them a 5 star review on google.
By the time we stepped out of the tavern, the parking lot was pitch black and all traces of daylight had faded. Coming from Vancouver, I was taken aback by how dark the area was due to the low density of city lights in the area. It was approaching 10 pm and we still had roughly an hour and twenty minutes travel time left before we got to the inn. As we drove out of Astoria and into the wilderness along the coastal highway, I took a backwards glance out the rear window.
Nothing.
It was as if someone had covered the window in the blackest shade of black there was. Outside of our SUV, it felt like the world had disappeared and we were the only focal point of interest left in the void. Surprisingly, this evoked a sense of peace and calm within me. Draped in the darkness under the forest foliage, the absence of everything made our little vehicular space feel ever more so cozy. This surreal sensation was short-lived as a yellow glow soon draped into view. A truck had caught up behind us and the magical darkness was gone.
As we continued our drive towards Tillamook, taking advantage of the spooky atmosphere, I started playing some of the most creepy, disturbing music I could find. One notable standout was the track “Hamburger Lady” by the Throbbing Gristles. The stand-out instrumental of the song is the stuttering high-pitched synthetic noise that cuts in and out of the song regularly.5 Combined with the mumbled somewhat incoherent lyrics, the song gave out a strong sense of dread and tension.
As the song continued on, we made our way through a lit mountain side tunnel. At this point, somebody mentioned that tunnel’s are often a gateway to another realm, hence the reason why they are associated with people being “spirited away”. It did not help our situation that Hamburger Lady continued to drone on in the background. Reeve eventually had enough of the lady hamburgering and asked me to play something else.
I opened up Spotify and started queuing up some JPOP. “Hmm, that’s weird. Nothing’s playing…” I mumbled. I glanced at the top right of my phone screen. Zero bars, zero reception. What about the previous track? Oh right, it’s Hamburger Lady. How about the track before that? I tried loading it up but it was too late, the song was gone from the phone’s memory. This was not good. Did this mean that for the next 40 minutes we were stuck listening to Hamburger lady on loop? Luckily for us, Angelo had a playlist of songs downloaded on his phone so we switched to that.
At some point in the trip, the navigation took us off the highway and onto some residential roads. We passed by several single houses and farms in the forest. These houses stood out to me because as far as I remember, there was not a single house with a light on inside. All of the lights were off, but it was only 10:30 pm. My assumption is that maybe people in the country side just all go to bed early. By this point my reception had came back, and I decided to queue up some upbeat songs but throw in one special surprise. Some Silent Hill 2 OST would be a nice topper to the vibes we were getting. There’s not much to say particularly about the track “Black Fairy”. All I can say is that, asides from myself, nobody really appreciated its ability to invoke unease and discomfort in its listeners.
As we arrived near our destination, google maps spit us back out onto the highway we were originally on earlier. We were all confused. Why did the navigation decide to take us on a 25 minute scenic route across the residential areas, instead of just letting us continue down the main road? Today, I still don’t really know why, but it is what it is I suppose.
At a quarter past 11, we finally pulled up to the Tillamook inn. It was a long first day and we were all eager to check in for the night. Unfortunately for us, because we arrived so late, almost all of the parking in the lot was filled up. After circling a few times, we found a spot on the outskirts of the inn by the gas station. Originally we had booked the room for 3 because Louie’s presence was still a wild card at the time. We decided that Angelo and I would go check in, and Reeve and Louie would wait in the car.
The reception area of the inn had a cozy homey feel, and the lady at the front desk was very warm and friendly. As Angelo dealt with the check in procedures, I walked around and explored a little bit. There was a large fish tank on a small table to the side of the reception area. Three Axolotls, two white and one black, were chilling on the bed of rocks in the aquarium. They were so still, I had to take a double glance to make sure they were real and not just props. My favorite one was the black one, whose name was Toothless 6, as shown on the nametag resting on the table.
After Angelo finished the check in procedure and we put our stuff into the room, we went to go tell Reeve and Louie. Taking a glance at my phone, my stomach dropped when I saw the bombardment of notifications sent from the last few minutes.
Initially, my brain panicked and I thought the two of them had tried to get into the hotel doors without the keycard, and in doing so had set off the hotel’s security system. What really happened was that Angelo had kept his car keys in his pocket when we went to check in. Because he had locked the door, when Reeve or Louie tried to open it from the inside, it set off the alarm in his car. Angelo and I quickly made our way back to the car and unlocked the doors, and we brought in the rest of our stuff.
Of course, no night was complete without a couple cold ones to crack open at the end of the night. As the only 2 alcohol enjoyers in the room, Angelo and I set off on a late night beer run to quench our thirst. We drove over to “Center Market”, a convenience store located about a 5 minute drive away from the inn. Upon checking our IDs, the cashier was interested in where we were coming from. We made some small talk about where we were from, and he quickly rang up our beers for us.
The drive back to the inn was a magical one. By that point, it was late enough that the moon had fully risen into the sky. As we drove down the coastal highway, the moonlight refracted along the ocean water and a deep blue hue took over the lighting in the area. I fully opened my window and stuck my head and arm out. As the rush of wind blasted my face, the slightly sulfuric scent of the sea mixed with the pine from the rainforest overtook my sense of smell. I shouted out as loud as I could, and in that moment everything disappeared.
You know those moments where you have this epiphany that you’re alive? This was one of those moments; I was overcome with a sense of bliss and euphoria. On the daily, everybody works hard so that one day they could progress their career to the point where they’re able to live cushy and worry-free. In the process of doing so, we often become burdened with stress and expectations for ourselves. Stress is something we all inevitably will encounter, and sometimes it feels like the end of the world when things don’t go our way. But every once in a while, we do something that serves no purpose in solving our worries. Whether it be paddle boarding on a lake, catching up with an old friend, or even just taking a walk in the park. In these moments, we are happy. It’s funny that we have these big dreams and goals in life, but its these small somewhat insignificant moments in life that a person can remember the fondest. The rush and exhilaration of being a kid again, and the feeling that everything is going to be alright that comes along with it.
After a long day of travelling, this was the perfect way to cap off the night.
And the trip was only just getting started.