Best Vacation EVAH!

My summer has been taken up with work. Lots of it. Work coming out of my ears. Work up to my eyeballs and past my jugular.
Summer ended, luckily for me, and it was finally time for vacation. Jones & I packed up the civic and hit the road...
Blissful stoneydriving with my bestest friend, we hit Gorst and feel lost. without panicking, we turn around, only to remember we were going the right way to begin with. Lots of goofy talking, somehow there is always so much to catch up on; even though we spend our whole lives together, we always are talking.
Through Gorst to Sequim. Washington has the best place names. Sequim, for those of you readers who've never been there, if there are any of you, is pronounced "SkWim" rather than "see-kwim" as it might seem. We passed the sequim gym, where we giggled and listened to spank rock; we passed the sequim lanes, smaller than the garage; we couldn't pass the sequim nature trail, which lead us past Kitchen-Dick Road.

Crossing Kitchen-Dick Road, we searched for the ocean. We arrived at a de-scalable bluff, and finished our americanos. We decided we could live in Sequim, if it came down to it.

From Sequim to Port Angeles is a short geographical distance, but miles and miles mentally from Seattle. By the time we hit the hilarity of Sequim, WA, we had lost our urban tensions. Years and their ascended trouble-lines were floating outside of the care-able planes, and things were all superlative. {Aside: I had driven from seattle to port angeles a week before, and the same effect was felt. also, i knew what was coming up on the roads.)

There was a small winery on the left, and we decided to stop, it being 3pm monday and all, it was totally wine-time.

The bartendress was 2.3 sheets to the wind and was Very Generous in her pours. One wine (a Syrah) was so so so so better than the rest, it was way a steal for $25 - we bought 2. And i loved a particular sweet-ish chardonnay that we could chill and take up to our campsite. So we got that too. And then Jones got another glass of the awesome Syrah and we sat and watched the road go by and daydreamed about having a winery and an onsen and then set off, dreamy and sated, to find a campsite.

Camp found and staked, Hurricane Ridge visited and scared, we were well on our ways to relaxation. Delicious motherfuckign food, dark darkness, Night fell, we forgot to get enough firewood, we were soggy and sleepy and slept poorly; there were owls too many and too loud for that.

The next morning, we debated how early nor late it might or might not be. No decisions were made. Breakfast was delectable.

We chose to hike a mountain. It was hard. We smoked and fucked in the national forest.

Back to camp, enough firewood for the night. The mountains echoed "jones" and we ate a delicious crab bisque from cups. The next morning, we were almost ready to leave; almost forgotten about our regular selves, not ever forgetting about our lovely kittens nor our hot shower; dreams of bears turned out to be just dreams. We drove to Sol Duc hotsprings. Past the unbelievably magic Lake Crescent, over the hills and on the other side, we arrived at the lodge. Sulfur and delicious. A deer fed on the lawn of our cottage.
We soaked, and talked, and ate and did adult recreational things. The next day, after pretty much doing all those things again, we took what would be my first legal trip to a casino. We chose Seven Cedars Casino, in beautiful, Lucky Sequim, and I proceeded to lose money. Not Jones, though. He lost a little, won a little, then found his lovely lady slot machine, which was a penny slot called USA FOREVER or something stupid like that, and proceeded to win close to $600US.

We called it a good vacation and came home richer, not only in experience but in dollar value too.

All photos can be viewed HERE.