We started off the day by getting a cup o’ joe at a hipster-style Seattle coffee joint. Usually Steven and I attempt to blend into our surroundings so as not to appear as tourists. Unfortunately Seattle will not allow for this ritual seeing as the fashion statements here are atrocious. At first I thought perhaps we were in the grunge Kurt Kobain type district but after a full analysis of the city’s dress code I have found that printed knee high socks with misfit unflattering skirts are in for women. I am not a fashionista, but yipes. I am sure that Ann Taylor will not be placing a flagship store anywhere near this place. We spent the morning relaxing while sipping on Seattle’s gross domestic product (our milk was even poured in the shape of a leaf), although I am not sure how this became a staple of Seattle seeing as it is even further from Columbia than Indiana.

Our next grand idea was to travel to Mount Rainier. We calculated it to be about an hour and a half drive from Seattle. We loaded up on beef jerky, trail mix, granola bars and other goodies to ensure our energy supply for what was sure to be an epic trek through the National Park. I soon found, however that my job as speed cop quickly turned to panic safety cop as my co-pilot navigated our Ford Escape through winding roads with sheer drop offs. With sweaty palms and a queezy stomach I reminded the driver of the 10 and 2 rule and other gems from driver’s training, which I’m sure he found very helpful. Less helpful were his suggestions to me that I stop screaming and let go of his arm while he was driving. It was a good first test of our marriage.

Shoot, forgot the ice ax

We eventually made it to the Paradise Welcome Center where I bought a national park patch for my collection. (My one nerdy habit). I collected our trail map, and after yesterday’s experience talked my travel buddy out of going for one of the “strenuous” routes and instead decided we would take a “moderate” route. I packed our pack (thank you Chels and fam for the REI pack) as Steven smugly stated that I was “loaded for bear”. I ignored him, certain that he would eventually be grateful I’d packed our heavy fleeces, mountaineering shells, and enough food and water to survive for a week. We set off on what was sure to be a grueling trek, and after about two yards my feet had sank into a slurry of snow and water, I had slid back about three feet, and nearly toppled into a pool of ice water. After all the planning we had not thought about the possibility of hiking in snow. Slight oversight for those of us used to living in the flat lands of Indiana. Every trail was completely snow covered and those around us were wearing snow boots and had trekking poles. We took some photos to make ourselves look adventurous to those not reading the blog, and retreated back to the car (I was definitely glad I’d packed all that stuff). Deciding that all that effort shouldn’t be wasted, we drove back down the mountain until we found a trail underneath the snow line. The trail offered a beautiful view of a waterfall and the trail itself was a challenging upwards climb. We hiked until we felt that we had vindicated our trip, then got back in the car to drive to Seattle.

ARRR me fish 'n chips

Once in Seattle we ate at Iver’s, a fish and chips shop. Steven loves the greasy fish and chips shops. Learning from a previous experience in London (refer to here), Steven and I took our delicious meal under an awning so as not to be messed on by any birds. Of course the day wouldn’t be complete without ice cream so after a large helping of the tasty treat we called the day done and headed back to the lodge.

Signing off, 10 and 2 Steven and Sloshy Shoes Libby

Travel question of the day: Who would eat at Red Lobster when in Seattle?