A Foray Into Darkness

I've recently gotten it into my head that I need to do more exploring. You know, get out and see the world a bit.

This will be my attempt at once more chronicling whatever adventures I may have in this endeavor.

Without further ado, I will begin (please forgive me as I find my rhythm).

Almost three weeks ago now, I intended to leave immediately after work, but was stalled. As I approached the freeway intending to turn in a southwardly direction, I realized that I had failed to turn my alarm off. I had no desire to put my neighbors through (potentially) days of my alarms going off, so I did the responsible thing and turned back. A little over an hour was lost in getting back to my starting point, even more was lost in the traffic I encountered from that point on.

All was not lost, however. The journey was uneventful as I passed through the towns and cities on my way to wherever I was going. A thought occurred to me, and that was to call up friends who lived in the southland that I rarely had cause to pass through.

This I did, and I spent a solid couple of fantastic hours with a couple I knew from high school and their three daughters.

It took a number of calls to organize just how/where/when to meet up, but we ultimately found each other in the parking lot of the local Fred Meyer.

We ate dinner at a small Mexican restaurant called Paco's Tacos--the food there was delicious, by the way.

After that I went with them while they let their kids cool off and play in the local fountain. It was a sight to behold.

Once it was time for them to leave, I decided to go my own way and head farther south, into the night.

At first I had wanted to venture forth with no real goal in mind, but I had spoken with someone at work previously, who had suggested a destination to me: Ape Cave. The farther I went down that Interstate 5, the more I thought that sounded like a pretty good idea. At least, for this first outing.

It had started getting dark, which made it too late to find a campground and take care of the hassle of finding a spot, paying, etc., so I decided I was going to sleep in my truck at a rest area.

The search was on. I encountered one that I thought was much too far north to be of any use to me, there had to be one closer to the exit of my destination: exit 21, didn't there? The short answer is yes. The longer answer is that there were no signs warning me of said rest area's impending closeness, and by the time I was near enough to exit, I was still in the inside lane with a tractor-trailer rig between me and my sleepy-time destination.

Instead of doing the crazy thing and slamming on the brakes to slide across (and through) traffic to get there, no matter what, I did the sensible thing and continued onward. I just hoped there would be another stop before my exit.

There wasn't one, but there was a rest stop shortly thereafter. It was around exit 14, I think. The Gee Creek Rest Area. I brushed my teeth, slept fitfully in my truck, then got once more on the road, heading south.

The next exit I encountered was for that of Battle Ground, WA. I'd never been there, but I'd heard mediocre things. There was a girl I knew in college was from the town. She had been good people, so I thought I'd investigate a little further.

The time was shortly after dawn, and the town seemed to still be asleep. I drove the length of it and turned around. Upon reaching the eastern edge of the town, I parked and exited the vehicle for the purposes of picture-taking.

Apparently, they take their recycling seriously.

On the road again, I decided I was hungry--just after passing a local diner. I continued onward until I found a Jack in the Box, which was unfortunately a mistake. That was the site of the now infamous burrito incident.

Usually I'm very careful with burritos and their foil wraps, and this (I thought) was no different an occasion. I was wrong. Gravity had brought the burrito juices down through some secret passage to drip onto my shirt and pants unseen. Admittedly, I was a little annoyed, but there was absolutely nothing I could do about it, and I had no one to blame but myself. Somehow that made it less frustrating. Not having yet left the parking lot, I went back inside, washed off the juices as best I could, and decided to be on my way.

Heading back east toward the freeway, I figured the on ramp would be on the right, right? Wrong. I missed it because it was on the left. My next thought was that I would just follow the road up a ways and turn around, then head south onto the on ramp to head north. This was not to be. By the time I'd had that thought, it was too late. The highway I was on, I believe, was WA 502. This road doesn't go west past it's intersection with I-5, it's a forced merge. So, I headed south--in order to go north.

Anyway, I turned around at the next exit and headed north for the Cougar exit, exit 21. Then there was a nice winding mountainy road complete with some paving work being done (causing it to be reduced to one lane... it was fun).

After a while of driving, I found the Yale Reservoir. That was neat.

Back to the highway, and a few more miles into the forest I found the signs pointing to the cave.

My intention was to take pictures within the cave. The guy from work had said to 'take a light.' When asked if there was anything else he said, "Yeah, another light." I thought I understood what he meant.

I did not.

A few years ago at Costco they were selling a pair of (ironically) solar powered flashlights. They're LED lights. Pretty bright, right? Well, yes, they seem bright enough when there is some ambient light, but in absolute darkness they leave something to be desired.

The term I used to describe myself in that situation was 'woefully underprepared.'

Fortunately, I had gotten to the entrance to the cave minutes before a tour group was coming by. Here's a picture of what the entrance looked like sans-tripod support: And here's a look at the tour group I merged with upon realizing the major flaws of my plan. The cave itself was very neat. Unfortunately, I only stayed with the tour guide who made three or four stops. I thought it would be wholly inappropriate to try to merge with one of the smaller groups as they continued their descent into the bowels of the Ape Cave.

So, I resurfaced with a clearer understanding of not only what the Ape Cave offered, but also what it demanded.

Back out to my truck, and I was already pondering a return trip and what needed to happen for second visit to be a first success.

I stopped maybe once on the way home for gas, but after that the remainder of the journey was fairly uneventful.

If you read this though, rest assured. There is more to the Ape Cave tale. I've been back already, and was met with great success, I would say. Unfortunately for you, whoever you might be, that information is not meant for this entry.

Stay tuned! Or whatever the modern, internet equivalent of that would be... Stay RSSed? Stay fed? I like that one.

Stay fed!