On the Road

The story reverted to the beginning of chapter 8. Fumbling for the case in the center console, I grabbed CD five, ejected CD four and continued the audio book. Unsympathetic to my interest in Moby Dick, the lights of a late 80's pickup flashed twice in the rearview mirror before unleashing its liberally muffled v8. In a cloud of blue smoke and the glimmer of a Bush/Quayle 92 bumper sticker, the truck passed on a double yellow.

"Bush/Quayle? Who the fuck was Quayle?" I chuckled, referring the question to my dad with a grin.

"Bush Senior's vice president..." he sardonically replied.

"Oh no, you don't say...I mean who was he?"

"He was an incompetent Senator from Indiana; a "Family Values" advocate."

"Only in Yakima, Washington would one of those be kicking around," I said, motioning to the truck as it passed around the corner.

Spending the majority of my time in Manhattan makes exploring country roads to the sound of audio books all the more appealing. Starting on the 23rd of December and ending the 2nd of January, I explored the roads of Pacific Northwest with my friends and family. I hiked, snowboarded, shot guns and took photos along the way.

My mom's Irish terrier, Lucy.

Behind the market, Seattle.

Looking East, Bingen, Washington.

Blasting away in Prindle Washington.

Red gate near Mt Saint Helens.

Straight from Alaska.

Hours before catching my red-eye back to New York, I walked down an abandoned road in the Columbia River Gorge. Lucy, my mom's spunky Irish terrier, ran ahead, chasing a quail. Despite the beauty and serenity of my surroundings, I looked forward to the bustle and energy of New York. Nine hours later, I landed in Newark. It's a crazy world we live in.

Here are some more links,
On The Road (Picasa),
Side of the Road (ART).