Return To The Sea

About damn time I found a place where I could get some breakfast and hop on the internet. I would like to wholeheartedly recommend the Morning Star Cafe in Seaside, Oregon, to all you peoples who like breakfast and wi-fi. They just got some fresh-picked strawberries in here from down the road and damn but those things are good. I somehow managed to wake up at 4:55am this morning, and took advantage of my unfortunately early rise by going for a dawn hike through the woods in Stub Stewart State Park (this being the home of my campground last night). The advantage to hiking so early in the day is that the woods are filled with birdsong,* and when I got to a vantage point I could see the rising sun painting the drifting fog banks as they crept through the coastal hills. The downside is that it left me damn hungry before most normal people have even woken up. Hence my happiness at finding a breakfast place.

*There is a certain type of bird -- I'm pretty sure it's the Grouse -- that has a consistent history of scaring the shit out of me when I'm hiking. As I may have mentioned in previous posts, I hike fast, and I don't make much sound. This means that I often get to see wildlife that ordinarily would flee long before a slower, louder hiker would see it. The general reaction of said wildlife is to let out a surprised squeak and rush off into the underbrush. Usually, I get to catch a glimpse of the animal first, and then can watch it as it runs away. The grouse, however, is different. I have never seen one standing still. They are perfectly camouflaged beside the trail, and I am certain that I would walk past one completely unaware if the damn thing would stay still. This does not happen. What does happen is that the damn bird waits until I am about two feet away, and then EXPLODES out of its hiding place in a flurry of surprisingly loud flapping wings. This shocks the hell out of me. Every damn time it happens. Stupid bird.

The weather on the coast today is a dreary cloudy-fog, so I'm in no hurry to get out hiking. Today might wind up being a museum day. I need to start planning out my trip more than four hours in advance now, because I'm flying back to Boston on Friday. I'll be leaving my car parked at the airport while I'm in New England. In some airport garage. My car. That's full of hiking crap. I'll be taking my laptop and items of actual value with me, but I'm always paranoid about leaving Oki all alone in a garage somewhere. I plan to strategically arrange items in the backseat of the car so as to make them appear as inexpensive as possible. As opposed to hanging a sign in the window that reads "THERE IS $1,000 IN CASH HIDDEN SOMEWHERE IN THIS VEHICLE. CAN YOU FIND IT?"**

**I discussed this strategem with Jared. He agreed that the sign would be a bad idea. In fact, the sign would likely lead to someone ransacking my car, taking anything of value, and then taking a big dump in my glove-box. What would lead a person to pinch one off inside someone's glove-box is beyond my understanding, let alone how they could arrange their body to drop said deuce in such an awkward location. Regardless, the lesson is clear: don't make your car look like it contains valuables. And more importantly, don't take a dump in my car. For this reason, I will be keeping the location of my vehicle secret. For its protection.

It looks like there's an air and space museum in Tillamook. And more importantly, I'm pretty sure I've had beer made by a "Tillamook Brewery." I hope that this is not a coincidence. I want to be rip-snortin' drunk when I roll into that air and space museum, wearing a shirt that says "I SHOT DOWN AMELIA EARHART," acting belligerent in general, and when approached demanding to speak to Chuck Yeager. Yes. This is a good plan.

-dave

"I am the Lindberg Baby!"
-Abe Simpson