There were a couple of things I had planned on doing differently. Chief among them was to have a better light source than my ironically solar-powered flashlight. The solar flashlight is recharged by the sun and has a battery backup, but just can't hold a candle(power) to the headlamp that I ended up buying from REI.
I had gone into several stores looking for camping supplies thinking that I would just buy a lantern. A lantern would serve my picture-taking purposes well, I thought. It would light up a broad area and leave the shadows static for the image sensor to pick up more crisply when the shutter is left open for tens of seconds.
Four or five stores later, and no lanterns could be found. Thus, almost in desperation, I landed in REI. There were a couple of different lanterns that seemed likely, so I decided to do something that I rarely do, ask a store associate for help/advice. The guy that was requested by the customer service desk was really helpful. I ended up getting (what appeared to be) one of the better headlamps with spot, flood, high and low power, white strobe, solid red, and red strobe. With battery life supposedly lasting up to 160 hours, and peak output being 60 lumens. I felt much better about that than my previously mentioned flashlight, which I believe had been rated at 20 lumens.
Another preparation I had in mind was to take someone with me. Someone to help with the experiment that was meant to be cave photography, as well as someone to keep me company/sane in the utter darkness. I found that in a friend from high school who was between quarters at their college at the moment. She ended up buying the same headlamp as myself, and all seemed set. We just had to await the day.
The day came quickly. Before I knew it, I was at work, eagerly awaiting the day's end so that I could leave. I picked my friend up and we left, headed south toward the cave. The plan wasn't really clear, nor was the weather, but that was just fine. The forecast called for abject rain the next day, which may have caused an additional precipatory quality to the cave, but the cloud cover would make no difference as to the level of illumination (which remained a natural zero).
Southbound on I-5, we generally conversed and squinted in the sunlight. We talked about once and future endeavors, past and present adventures, and just generally getting out and exploring the world a bit more. One hers will be an inspired Journey.
It was a little weird. I'd done outings and adventures on my own before, and little one day things with other people, but never really anything like this with someone else where there was only one real goal and the rest was completely up in the air. When I had done my long road trip back in '06, people had suggested that I take someone with me. I didn't think anyone would have had a schedule that could have allowed, but more than that, I never wanted to have anyone to answer to. There never had to be any sort of compromise, and if I missed out on something, or worried that I had, I had no one but myself to blame. This change in the dynamic posed (potential) problems. None, other than the worry of which, came to light.
That being said, at some point south of Olympia, food was mentioned. We happened to be nearing the exit to Vader, and I saw a sign for the Country House Restaurant and said something like, "Do you want to stop at the Country House...?" She replied almost immediately, "Do it."
I thought it would be neat to stop at a little diner. When we got in, the the place was largely empty. There were people at one table, and a second table was taken after we got there, but other than that there was only ever one other customer who came in shortly before we left. He seemed by far the most interesting, but I'll get into the whys on that a little later.
Upon entering and being seated, something seemed different than I'd expected. There was one customer facing employee in the place, and she appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties. She also spoke english through a noticeable Japanese accent. She also bowed to us when presenting us with out menus. Menus which, the first several pages contained standard fare for such a place, but the back half of which contained various teriyaki dishes.
After a few minutes of consideration, I went with something, at least in name, that I felt I could only get at this unique restaurant in Vader, WA. It is called the BigFoot, and is a country fried steak, probably 10 inches in length. It came with a selection of vegetables and fries.
The 'steak' itself was unsurprisingly standard, the gravy was better, but the vegetables tasted like they were fresh from a freezer bag. The fries were a tier above the vegetables, but the difference in tier height was not substantial. Ah yes, I also had a Butter Pecan milkshake. It was alright. Nothing stellar. I was a little surprised that it was served in the tin. Something makes me think they offer milkshakes, but it's almost a bit of a surprise to them when folks order one.
As the meal wound down, the other people found themselves having left the establishment. Then, an older gentleman arrived and took a seat at the bar. He looked to be in his late 60s or early 70s. His right arm was in a sling, and when she saw him, the accented woman no longer used her inside-voice when she called out, "Gary!" It was actually very cute and sweet to witness. I'm glad I was there.
I'd be curious to know how he has achieved such a role in the establishment as star customer.
After refueling ourselves, we made a quick stop at the neighboring Chevron to do the same for my truck. $53 later, and we were back on the Interstate, though our travels would remain intrastate.
On our further southward travels, we stop at the Gee Creek rest area and I explain how things had happened on my last visit to the establishment, though we were early enough that I was confident this time was only a pit-stop.
Which it was.
The idea came into my head to head further south until we found the Columbia River and find something interesting and industrial along it to take pictures of, but that idea was not to come to fruition. I once more became distracted by Battle Ground.
This time the lake was to blame. Last time, I hadn't realized there was a lake. And I suspect that they didn't build it in the two weeks during my absence. Oh well, it probably wouldn't have made a difference had I know about it on the previous trip.
It was very scenic, and I got a lot of nice pictures of the clouds and reflections off the lake. The sun had gone down behind the tree line, so a lot of the harsher shadows were no longer present.
There was a dock that jutted outward into the lake and a designated swimming are nearer the restrooms and shower.
Out on the dock was a young man, he appeared to be in his late teens. He sat lazily leaning back with a fishing pole propped up on the edge of the dock, line dipped in the water. Over in the swimming area a young girl and her mother were splashing about and conversing about the grander implications of life and self-identity.
A few things from their unintentionally overloud conversation still ring out in my memory. The first of which is that the little girl claimed she knew the secret to breathing underwater. The explanation to which reminded me to the creative possibility of a child's mind. It's something that many people lose over the years, but I think the best of us are able to retain, whether by great strength of will or natural talent or aptitude, I cannot say.
At first when she made the claim, her mother didn't understand her at all. "Like, you know how to SCUBA dive?" she asked. "No. I know how to breathe under water!" the girl claimed, almost indignant. "Do you have gills?" The mother asked, beginning to understand, and now in disbelief. "No!" the little girl claimed again. It was probably a look from the mother that I was too distant to observe, but an explanation by the girl had thus been prompted.
It's both an explanation that I hope I never forget, and one that I'll share with you now.
"When you're underwater and you're coming back up, you know how you're exhaling, right?" the girl began. "Well, what you have to do is catch up to one of your air bubbles, put your head in the bubble, and breathe it back in!" she said, as if it were the most simple and straightforward thing you could do while beneath the waves.
I've probably over-simplified it, but I remember understanding the concept very plainly, the practical execution of which could only take place by cartoon characters in my mind, however.
There was a chuckle from the young man on the dock, and I felt that was my opening to crack wise. "It sounds like she's thinking of it like an astronaut helmet, or something," I said. He laughed again. Then I remarked audibly on the imagination of the young.
With two simple words, I came to believe instantly that the mother still didn't understand. "Show me," she said.
It came to mind that her words rang with terrible implications. Fortunately(?), the girl started shouting about things touching her legs underwater and they moved closer to the shoreline, her special, however logical talent, for the moment forgotten.
Another thing that the mother and daughter were discussing was that of identity. The youth was talking about family, and her various cousins. She said, "you know how [cousin x] is known as the [noun a] cousin? And [cousin y] is the [noun b] cousin? I don't want to be known as the cello cousin." Even though I have no right what so ever, I felt proud of her in that moment. Not wanting to be pigeon-holed into a category, to me, showed a maturity beyond her years. And then she went and ruined it. "I want to be known as the robotics cousin!" she proclaimed proudly.
Then the sky began darkening in earnest, and we decided it was time to head back into the Battle Ground. There was a building we had seen on the way into to town and had planned on stopping to photograph it, but it had become too dark to do so. Instead, she aimed her camera as I slowed my truck on the main drag of Battle Ground, and some kind of photograph was taken. To my knowledge, it doesn't depict the building particularly well, but she was satisfied with the overall outcome.
As we drove on back toward the freeway, I once again explained my mishap with the Northward on ramp from WA 502, and how I was not going to let history repeat. Not this time.
Success.
A left turn heading West brought me to bear on my Northward intent.
A few exits later, we were on the highway that would have taken us to Cougar. It was much too late to head for the cave, and feeling ever the cheapskate, we conferred and it was decided to follow my established pattern and sleep at Gee Creek.
Turning the truck around and heading south to the rest area, we found it with ease. That was my third visit, after all.
At the rest area, we spent a while sitting in the back of the truck discussing various topics, not the least of which were those astronomical oddities that populate the heavens. And of course how much more visible they all are from a place like Gee Creek.
After that, we got back into the cab and settled in for a night of tossing and turning and waking up every 45 minutes or so (at least that was the case for me). But hey, you get what you pay for, and I absolutely got my money's worth.
A note: I'm going to try and post this with no pictures as I'm writing from the road on my next (current) adventure. The internet here hasn't been exactly cooperative, so I'd just assume wait until I can try a different access point for the pictures, or wait until I get home. If this continues to be the case until I'm home, I'll try to continue posting updates in this manner for Ape Cave Outing 2, part II, and for the current adventure (which has me at a coffee shop in Moses Lake, of all places).
Happy reading!
No comments:
Post a Comment