Alaska to Florida Adventure: Days 5 & 6
The historic area on the other side of the Canadian-US border opened up to a impeccably flat farming landscape (easily the greenest place I’d ever seen).
Megan called her relatives and after getting turned around (and greeting a bunch of cows His Highness mistook for giant dogs that he desperately tried to join) we coasted to Bellingham, WA. There was comfort in being expected. We didn’t need to find a place to stay. We had one.
Temporary Home Base
Megan’s cousins are awesome. They put us up in their guest house and unloaded only what we needed. His Magesty managed to warm up to our hosts (it was significant because he was and still is pathologically shy) and we were able to restock go on a supply run without worrying about running out of daylight, feed the Jeep, enjoy warm company and partake in honest-to-goodness home cooked meals.
Megan let His Magesty play on a tether staked in the front yard (he can’t be trusted to run free because he’s part greyhound, he won’t come back) and we chilled on the grass. I liked WA flora very much. Graceful… and fluffy. Not to mention the weather was uniformly college-library temperature (not cold enough for a jacket, but still pretty darn crisp).
2 Interesting Sights: Across the street, a brazen red maple posed a glaring contrast to a 2-story’s sky blue siding. So red! (I’d never seen one; we took pictures.) The second thing was a Tardis-blue door on the second level. Wouldn’t have been weird if there was a balcony but there wasn’t. It opened into the air, Looney Tune style.
The First Sign
We stayed on an extra night to rest (I didn’t mind losing a day, I had a cozy place to sleep. Fell asleep listening to Rise of the Guardians). However I had been unaware that, when she drove the last bit of British Columbia and into Washinton State, Megan noticed the Jeep pulling to one side. Very slight, barely noticeable, but it bothered her so she asked her cousin to take a look. He propped open the hood and fiddled, checking fluid levels and the like. Nothing seemed amiss.
The Rest of the USA Won’t Drive Itself!
Bellingham had been lovely. Bushes and trees were in bloom like explosions of gentle textures and soft colors that splashed past as we threaded neighborhood roads to follow Megan’s cousins’s directions to the Interstate. I-5 didn’t feel alien. Not like the Alcan. Even though neither of us had driven that particular stretch of American Interstate before, it still felt familiar and reassuring.
Next in the Alaska to Florida Adventure: The Wall
[Did you wanna read the AK to FL mayhem from the beginning? Start here: Road Trip Manifesto: Go Big or Don’t Go.]
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