trip on orcas
Orcas the island, not killer whales. H and I drove to Anacortes to catch a late ferry Friday night, and after a few hectic messages left on West Beach Resort’s voicemail, we stumbled onto the office and found our key. Waking up to the sound of waves, listening to the rain hit the roof, removing ourselves from daily life — it was magical.
All of their cabins must be awesome. We opted for the smallest cabin they have on the beach and it rocked. It’s a log cabin with a covered porch and inside is like a little house. The kithenette, dining and living rooms make up one side, and the bedroom and bathroom are on the other. And there’s a woodstove in the corner, complete with a bundle of wood and newspaper. Adorable. We opted for the fresh flowers and champagne, which came in handy when it snowed and I thought: I’ve never had a mimosa in the snow! Now I highly recommend it. Especially if you can get a bald eagle to fly over your head before your drink’s done.
We woke up Saturday to find the small flakes falling on the windows and melting. Coffee was the first thing on my mind, so we drove around the island in search of caffeine and breakfast. We scored and found a place on some corner in Eastsound (can’t remember the name!), then decided to see if we could go ‘climb’ Mt. Constitution — that is, drive up it, park and walk a very short distance to the top view. No dice, the road was closed — but seeing as I proceeded to get stuck on a hill immediately after that, it was probably a very good thing – especially since I was driving my dad’s giant 2-wheel drive, F-150 truck. After I got out of that (with a little guidance from H), I was ready to head inside.
We spent the rest of Saturday basically pretending we lived there; stared at the snow; watched a movie (you can rent TV/VCR combos, but I recommend a laptop); took walks; talked a lot; tried to figure out if we could really live somewhere SO SMALL (due to my recent interest in the idea of small-living — the answer: it would be possible with a lot of effort, but it’s not likely). Comfortable inside with the adventure of nature just out the door. It was a perfect getaway, really.
We returned to a storm. The ferry rocked like I’ve never felt, the rain was pounding the windsheild as I drove down I-5, there was still snow in parts of the north end. Eventually the city skyline sort of appeared between clouds and fog. I picked up a chai and as we settled in to the couch, I thought I could still hear waves just out the window.
Last, a note: no pictures. I’m sorry. There’s no excuse other than bad preparation and our general interest in just enjoying our own out-of-town experience.
