So, things were on a high. This lasted precisely the length of the Uber ride with an interesting second-generation Somali immigrant, a nice guy. All such bonhomie evaporated upon sighting the small gaggle of prospective renters queuing around the door of the car hire place, shortly before a harassed-looking young employee came out to deliver the news “There are no cars”. Brilliant. We do good disaster planning here, so immediately on Google to see if there were alternatives at the airport. Nope, no cars there either so bird in the hand won and we decided to stick around. Downtown branches never tend to be good on stock, and there clearly were a few cars coming back in.
Eventually the line worked its course, and we had our ticket. Step one. The next step was to get a car upstairs in the parking garage. We’d booked a midsize SUV. Sensible. Nissan X-Trail (‘Rogue’ over here) size. Mark didn’t want to be driving a big old tank. Therefore I waited quietly in the wings and when the employee approached with the keys to the enormous 5.3l V8 GMC Yukon I immediately divested him of them and thanked him profusely for the upgrade before Mark could demur.
This thing was ENORMOUS, and naturally situated on the third floor of a ridiculously tight car park with a spiral ramp. A fun first challenge, if you will. All the way down the proximity sensors were rumbling away in my seat, far more distracting than helping the actual hazard avoidance.
I had screwed up a bit, booking what I thought was Boeing museum/tour tickets but actually was their factory tour in Everett- A good half an hour the wrong way North. Because of the 2hr delay at the car hire place we now wouldn’t have time to get there for our booked tour, $96 down annoyingly, so instead swallowed the loss and headed to the Boeing flight museum instead. This turned out to be a brilliant afternoon and well worth the entry fee to see some utter gems of aviation including a really well preserved Concorde and the first ever 747. As well as a brilliant and, by US standards, really cheap cafe on site.
Home for the night was a distinctly unglamorous small double room at Whittaker’s Bunkhouse in the small town of Ashford, on the way to Mount Rainier NP. This was not really worth the $170 fee but, as with many other things around our adventure it seemed like availability was bizarrely low for some…some reason.
The next morning we saddled up the old beast and headed first to the gas station for another $50 donation before rumbling towards the park entrance a few miles East of Ashford. This again seemed unusually busy for a random Monday morning. Entrance is $30 for the car for a week, good value if you plan a few hikes. Heck, we had space for 6 other adults in our truck, which makes it even better value.
Essentially there are trails which head off in all directions from the main road through the park. First stop which sprung up was a hike to Carter Falls through the forest. Relentlessly UP but a nice stroll. From here however, the weather was heading inexorably downhill and by the time we reached Paradise visitor centre at the top of the park it was far from it.
It was, however, extraordinarily busy everywhere, with a packed visitor centre with a distinct aroma of wet dog from all of the soaked punters. I pondered at this point if anyone was actually left in China, such was the deluge of tour groups here, walking in little zigzags anywhere you cared to walk. Unable to find a square inch to perch we sadly retreated to our beast for some cold pizza from last night, then carried on through the park with a nice stop at Reflection Lake on the way.
A stop in Packwood on the way back provided a refreshing interlude however, with the rain finally cleared this was a nice little one horse town with a great coffee shop and, incredibly, an airport.
Packwood also had a big street festival on, winding down as we arrived in the late afternoon, killing time before our somewhat stingy 5pm AirBnB check in. I asked a local what it was…
Labor Day. Ah yes, a huge public holiday in the US. Maybe that’s why we couldn’t find a room, a car, etc etc…mystery solved.
Home for the next couple of nights was a cutesy cabin just outside Ashford. This ended up a pretty good value option, but sadly not available on our first night. I’ve gone off AirBnB in recent years but actually this was pretty easygoing and lacked the rules dotted everywhere in most accommodation.
This place was a lovely little bolthole, in essence. All the basics, big comfy bed and a proper backwoods feel. Sadly I couldn’t enjoy the bed as I was banished to the admittedly brilliant large sofa due to a raging cold.
Tomorrow, naturally, was another day. Rainier is extremely weather dependent, and lots of commenters mention the microclimate. This, definitely, rings true. Today was incredible.
Yesterday, visibility was such that you couldn’t see a THING from the Paradise parking lot. Today though, from the moment we entered the park Rainier’s majestic peak was visible, after grabbing an early couple of shots from the Carters Falls bridge (And a cheeky Cybertruck/Yukon bonus image).
In Paradise, from the moment we arrived you could clearly see the mountain behind the parking lot. Yesterday, this had just been mist. Seriously, top tip- plan multiple days in Rainier to give you the chance of clear weather. We headed out on the Skyline trail, definitely not intending a full loop but up to the scenic overlook. Despite the slightly lower crowds today, it not being a major bank holiday-duh, we still found it a bit peopley.
The Skyline trail’s difficulty lies not in the terrain- It’s paved better than most Devon roads most of the way up. It’s the elevation- near vertical from the start, and stays that way. A good workout.
Very conscious of the Country Code, I was a bit unsure about the etiquette of the little dudes approaching me for a crumb of Hershey’s and even more unsure when he/they/herm ran up my leg. Nice to have wildlife buddies, we also ran into a few marmots and deer. A bear was sighted on the opposite hill, but I’m the guy who doesn’t see wildlife so this was lost on me.
Today had been a good day walking.Not quite the distance we’d gone for, but a fairly decent one, given my lurgy and Mark’s low energy. In defence, our breakfast pot of “oatmeal” was a horrendous corn starchy mess. How the US manages to utterly bastardise a nice, healthy snack in this manner I am utterly bemused at. Just leave the oats with a bit of flavouring, surely? Don’t Frankenstein it! Oats and water. Natch.
Dinner, therefore, demanded comfort food, a Sherpa stew delivered by the town (checks notes) Himalayan restaurant. A proper family affair, with dad running the show and two sons running the table.
Do I mention it? Yeah, I think I do, on balance. Also working was a son with Down’s Syndrome. Absolutely nailing it, seating customers, sorting water and generally doing his bit. This is very close to my heart, my hometown of Minehead plays host to Foxes Academy, a big hospitality training business for people with learning difficulties and it’s nice to see a family all working together with everyone included. I bet Nepali Dad was a right stickler for family discipline though.
Back on the road in the morning. Not a big schlep, just 3 hours up to Bainbridge Island for our final 2 nights on terra firma before the cruise. We needed to do a bit of washing. Wouldn’t it be a wonderful thing to have an Airbnb with a washing machine? Failing this, it was launderette time. Sorry, laundromat.
Google had suggested one near Tacoma, but actually my own sniffings led to the nearby town of Morton. I do love a one horse town, and this seemed to have a decent coffee shop next door, so Morton it was. Washing suitably deposited, we headed to the coffee shop. Big sign on the door “No bummer zone”. Whaaat? Doesn’t look like that kind of town, or shop. Google quickly reassured me that we hadn’t slipped down some kind of homophoborabbbithole so we entered.
I’ve been negatively influenced by Mark in the world of tipping, he is adamant he is correct having spent quite a while in the States. I think tipping culture is a bit out of control but definitely don’t want to be that stingy Brit. So, as I ordered our coffee and muffins at the counter I resolved this was counter service and therefore not tip-worthy. But then the woman was lovely and ended up bringing it all over, so I then felt bad and ordered another cup of $5 coffee specifically for the purpose of leaving a $5 tip. Good lord, this overthinking lark is tough.
The drive to Bainbridge Island was a pretty easygoing 3 hour rumble mainly up the Interstate. I was a bit disappointed by the lack of of interesting stuff as this looked like the more scenic route on the map. I had to admit it, Mark had played a blinder finding our gaff on AirBnb, situated within a beautiful development 10 minutes stroll from the waterfront.
Bainbridge Island is a pleasant place to be. Clearly very affluent and a popular commuter town given the 30 minute ferry straight into downtown Seattle. At times maybe a little bit too sterile, I always get a bit suspicious of these kind of places especially when you have clear fronts like this odd place:
We had some nice wanders around Bainbridge Island, fairly low key trying to rid myself of slight lurgy before the cruise. One poignant aspect was the Japanese internment monument, telling the story of the hundreds of innocent Japanese-Americans on the island who were rounded up and imprisoned during the war for no crime other than their race. This was the subject of an official apology from the Government a couple of decades ago. “Never again” the memorial’s name.
On a happier note, Bainbridge is brilliant for culinary endeavours, the absolute highlight my super fresh Sockeye Salmon from the Tavern on the waterfront, a great brunch at the Diner and a very decent Vietnamese meal. Prices were a little more sensible than over the water too.
Nothing left then, than to get across the water in our dear tank, thankfully clinging on to that last notch on the fuel gauge to prevent more feeding. This was less fun than anticipated due to the maze of one way streets, bus lanes, no entries and the like surrounding Alamo like a ring of steel. Naturally, since the return was on the first floor Mark had to negotiate precisely one wide ramp rather than the Mariokart challenge I had to get the bugger out of the garage and “Couldn’t see what all the fuss was about” At times like this I always make sure to pull the “advanced driver” card and point out that I have been independently trained and assessed to superhuman driving level therefore his opinion is meaningless.
Onwards to Alaska…
loquitohermoso 
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