The Spruce Goose was the biggest ever seaplane, designed by eccentric genius Howard Hughes. It’s also the name of the café by the runway at the Jefferson County International Airport, fifteen minutes drive down the road from our campsite.
So for breakfast this morning we went down there and sat on their decking, having a pleasant time watching planes land and take off (all tiny turboprops, not big aircraft) while two men next to us discussed Zen Buddhism.
The food was good too; we were able to order half size portions, which turned out to be as big as we needed and we got a slice of their famous pies (which pilots fly in for).
Then, a short hike. I had dead legs from yesterday and was hoping for a shorter walk. We did three miles and it was mostly flat, so that wasn’t so arduous. Along the way, Destroyer spotted a raccoon in a tree, and we happened on several squirrels, two of them having a fight just in front of us.
Then we went down into Port Townsend, lured by the promise of a free electric charging station (no such luck) and then lunch, a quick look in a few shops, and then back for my customary nap by 3. If I get any more accustomed to this, I don’t think I’ll be able to return to working afternoons.
This evening, while I read Three Men In A Boat to Destroyer, La Serpiente fell asleep in an instant and then rolled around the tent like a wayward bag of cement. It’s raining tonight, which means tomorrow will be exciting…