WEDNESDAY, SEPT. 7
I’m in Port Townsend, staying at Dale and Becky’s. Friends from St. Olaf.
I wrote on Monday, Sept. 5, but it wouldn’t publish. I thought it was saved, but I have a lot to learn about this blog process.
I love the notes I’ve received from people who read my notes. I’m going to get something out right now, as we sit and drink coffee and talk in Port Townsend.
Jenny Wayman, Murray Reid and I rode into town yesterday. Murray and I started in Everett and rode 20 miles on the Interurban Trail to REI, then on to the Edmonds ferry. Jenny drove.
We got right on the ferry, crossed to Kingston and then left the car there and the three of us rode 18 miles to Port Ludlow and stopped to see Mark Pearson (my wife Jane’s cousin) We arrived at 6:15 p.m. and rode five miles out of the way to get there, much of which was downhill and we knew we had to backtrack soon. Still, our 45 minute stop at Mark’s, during which we ate crackers and peanut butter and he played two songs, was worthwhile. More than worthwhile.
Mark Pearson- and Jenny’s leg (nice, isn’t it!)
We were tired and it was 7:00 p.m. and 20 miles to Port Townsend didn’t sound good. But something clicked and we rode strong, as the sun sank and we arrived in Port Townsend at 8:00 p.m. The hardest part was Cass St. Hill, a steep 40 yards to Dale and Becky’s house.
Becky was in the yard as we pulled up,
Jenny, Murray and I hugged.
“Want a glass of water?” said Dale.