Take Aldrich's to the Beach

Tue, 20 Nov 2007 23:11:23 -0800

When you're hungry in Port Townsend, forget about looking for the nearest drive through for a burger and fries. You'll be surprised that there is only one fast food joint with a drive through in the Victorian burg. Rather, park your car in front of Aldrich's Market in uptown PT and walk in to this aromatic deli to sniff out all the fixin's for a Take Out lunch. Fill up a bag with delectable delights, a bottle of bubbly and head for the nearest beach. Sunny, cloudy, rainy or stormy makes no difference. Pick a beach away from the Water Street shuffle: Fort Worden, Point Hudson, North Beach. A few minutes drive to Old Fort Townsend is worth the time to claim your own beach beneath the majestic timbers of the state park. It is the closest you'll get near the city to the spirits of the first peoples who lived in the Olympic Peninsula forests before the trees became nothing more than fodder for the paper mills, the raw material for paper bags and toilet paper.

My Discovery of Recovery

Sat, 13 Oct 2007 23:26:37 -0700

The rat race finally got to me. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to get out of the Big City and just space out for awhile or I was going to go postal. Living in West Seattle I look out at the Olympic Mountains every day, but I had never actually visited the "other side" of Puget Sound. I couldn't even wait for the weekend. I could hear the mountains calling. I am not a mountain climber or even a weekend camper, but this was it. I felt that if I didn't make my move right now, I'd be looking at the mountains from the grated windows of a mental hospital.

I pack a few days of clothes, grabbed a bag of cat food and my cat, arranged them in the back seat of my Jetta and jetted off to the ferry dock to catch the next ferry for the Olympic Mountains. The second the ferry's whistle sounded our disembarkation from the frenetic whine of the Alaska Viaduct I could feel my anxiety level dropping, my heartbeat slowing to be replaced by a more tranquil and pleasant anticipation of my journey ahead.

I stopped at the Bainbridge information center, where I learned that I wasn't in the Olympic Mountains yet. I needed to drive 30 minutes to the Hood Canal Bridge, which, once I crossed it, I would be on what is known as the Olympic Peninsula, home of Olympic National Park and Olympic National Forest.

When I got to the bridge I didn't want to just rush across the canal. The beauty of the spot was overwhelming. The mountain view was spectacular. Being so much closer than what I see from my West Seattle window, I was not only seeing the mountains closer, I was getting washes of emotion surging through my body. At that moment I was no longer running away from the hectic hassles of civilization, I was now being drawn to something. I didn't know exactly what. But I could feel the steady attraction of a magnet, more like a whisper, a spirit calling my name.

My kitty also calmed down now, after her first tentative steps outside her travel case, wondering where has my master brought me. "OK, cat, let's cross over the bridge".

The speed limit on the bridge is 40 mph and I am sure that I didn't go over 20. I needed to savor every second of this experience. With the sunroof opened and both front windows down, the freshest sea air that I ever tasted swirled around the interior of the VW like aromatic sprays of fresh air from a mountain top spa.

As the car rolled onto solid ground again I had an inspiration that I was entering a living spa, a gigantic and spacious spa with no boundaries and no buildings. Tall majestic trees lined the roadway like sentinels welcoming my cat and me to peaceful place less than an hour and a half from West Seattle but more removed from the fast paced life and about as different as what Alice discovered on the other side of the looking glass or what she experienced upon entering the rabbit hole.

Ports of Call

Take Aldrich's to the Beach

My Discovery of Recovery