June 25, 2003
Beach Vacation, Part 4
We all got an early start on Saturday, eager to explore the beach and get the most out of our day. It was a very long day for me, starting early at the beach and ending late in my own bed, but I'm getting ahead of myself. This was the day that tragedy entered our vacation lives.
When I woke up my agenda was to have a whole lot of fun at the beach before heading north to attend a Heart concert at the new White River Amptheatre, near Auburn Wa. (see previous entry)
Several of us got out on the beach early. Most of us stayed fairly close but Buddy and Sam embarked longer walk, going south on the beach. Unfortunately that made them witness to a portion of the tragedy of the day, a person being pulled out of the ocean onto the beach.
That person was one of the victims of a fishing boat accident that happened around 7 am that morning. This story has gotten a lot of press, so I won't go into details here. This story was well done, in case you haven't read about it.
I didn't have a clue that something was wrong until a brightly colored helicopter appeared near our beach, buzzing the rocks and the surrounding water. Soon a similarly colored boat was searching the same area and a beach vehicle was carrying searchers from that vantage point. Eventually the news came upstairs about what had happened, and what Buddy and Sam had witnessed. Not surprisingly the news brought a somber mood to the house.
Zelly and the other youngin were mercifully ignorant of the true nature of what was going on. Zelly was just very excited about the helicopter. The triplets, being old enough to understand what had happened and passionate enough to be deeply effected, had a rougher time. They did a lot of processing about it throughout the day.
I felt a bit more distanced from the event because I was already thinking forward and preparing for my mini-vacation away from vacation. I left Twin Rocks around noon, hoping that I'd get a chance to stop at home on the way so that I could change clothes. I had neglected to pack any 'concert-wear' with me. Before your imagination gets the best of you, be advised: I was not wearing spandex, big hair or platform shoes. I just thought it'd be nice to wear clean jeans (i.e., not containing sand), a clean shirt and something other than sandals on my feet.
After consulting with Mimi and the downstairs crew, who came to Twin Rocks from Portland, I changed my travel route and headed to Tillamook. From there it was 6 to 26 to 405 to 5. Easy right? I glanced at one of my many maps and figured I had it sussed. The route was infinitely better than the one Wendy and I had used to get to Twin Rocks -- less twisty, with wider roads and shoulders, more opportunities for passing and higher average speed limit.
I made excellent time and was into Portland in about 1.5 hours. And when I say 'into' I mean right onto the mean streets of downtown Portland, baby. In other words, ooops. Instead of pulling over and searching the glove box for the Portland map, I started driving in concentric circles looking for some signage that would lead me to I5 north, or *anything* north. I kept seeing the green freeway signs only to discover they contained the word 'South' right before I drove onto the ramp. I realized after a few blocks that I was following a driver in a large truck who seemed to be doing the same thing I was. He slowed down to ask a group of pedestrians something. I decided to assume that he was asking directions to 405 north. I kept following him. Not sure where he ended up, but I did find what I was looking for. I think I burned a total of 15 minutes with that little side trip.
Finally going northbound, I passed through the rest of Portland without incident and made it home by 3:30. I checked on the cats, my garden and selected my evening wear. I still had time enough to take a half hour nap. I crashed on the couch, with my alarm clock near my head, and was blissfully asleep in moments.
I started from home and pointed the car northward with a much clearer head and all my maps handy. I wasn't gonna get lost again, no way. I5 north was a breeze and I reached Puyallup in good time. I was looking for the next turn from SR 512 to SR 410. It seemed so simple according to the handy online directions. Before I reached 410 there were signs saying "The Amphitheater .. next exit" and so on. I followed these signs onto 161 south and drove for what seemed to be an eternity. There were a lot of other people going the same direction, I figured they were fellow concert goers. I drove and drove. Civilization seemed to be thinning out.. again that was to be expected, the venue was on the Mukilteo Reservation in the middle of a rural area. What finally jolted me from my reverie was the sign saying that I was approaching Eatonville. Eatonville is significantly to the south of Auburn, which was the general vicinity I was attempting to reach.
I pulled into the next drug store I saw and asked for directions. Yes, there was a facility called The Amphitheater to the north, near Puyallup. No, it wasn't the White River Amphitheatre (I should have known just from the spelling, right?). With an eye on the clock, I headed back to Puyallup and 512 E so that I could continue following the directions I'd been given.
I got back onto SR 512 and then onto SR 410. I was looking for 244th, so I could take a left. I'm cruising along, listening to my Heart CDs, getting into the mood. I'm finally on track, I'm finally getting closer and still with enough time to get some food before the show started.
I believe I actually started chanting out loud, or maybe I just thought it really hard, "244, 244, come on 244... ok, 234, now we're close... 244 come on 244.... uh, 254?!?!?!?!?!!? Wait a minute.. where did 244 go? How could I have passed it without noticing a White River sign?" I made a U-turn and headed back, peering intently at every road sign I passed. There was 254... some trees, more trees, 234.. NO FREAKING 244! I pulled into a grocery store. Before I said much, the guy behind the counter said "I know what you're looking for." He then told me to get back on 410, heading in the original direction and proceed to 10 o'clock. I swear to gord that's what it sounded like. The gentleman had a thick Asian accent and he told me to drive on to "10 o'clock" For a half a beat, I stared at him and replayed my mental tape. "Um, where?" I asked hopefully. He very patiently and slowly pronounced the word again "e noom claw" Oh, how could I be so obtuse, Enumclaw!
I thanked him profusely and jumped back into the car, flipping the map around so I could consult it while attempting to enter traffic again. It took longer than it had to because the young woman driving the car in front of me was super hesitant about getting onto the road. Enumclaw, for those unfamiliar with the area, is past Buckley on SR 410. I hustled through those bergs finding a left on 244th just past Enumclaw. So why didn't they say, drive on 410 through Enumclaw and take a left on 244? Because they are evil! Ok, that's just my painful memory talking.
Probably what I looked like while trying to find the Amphitheatre:
The rest of the drive was easy and the parking was plentiful. I entered the grounds with Carrie Akre singing on a side stage, food and beer stands every where and plentiful restrooms. It was 6:30, enough time to check out the food possibilities, get some thing to eat and find my seats before the show started.