Setting the Scene

Why start in Washington? I’ve been asking myself that question for the past 8 days. No I’m just kidding! Bird wise, Washington offers relatively little that Oregon and northern California do not. All three are part of the great Pacific Northwest and their avifauna overlap due to shared habitats. But my vision for this trip was to start far from home and inch my way back, and something about the unexplored reaches of Washington and Oregon piqued my interest. I had never visited those states and wanted to change that. Olympia wasn’t too mountainous and it offered a pretty killer National Wildlife Refuge called Nisqually. Plus the city seemed like a good taste of the region for my family and me to experience together. And why not start in hipster land when my undertaking is pretty, well, hipster?

Although our air travel would be as direct as possible, taking a respectable four and a half hours or so, my independently-shipped unicycle had a more drawn-out translocation. Dropped off at a FedEx location in Augusta, the uni left for Kennesaw on Christmas day. Over the next six days, it took the midwest route, hopping from Illinois to Minnesota to North Dakota to Montana to Oregon before finally arriving at my B&B on the 31st. All that goes to say there are multiple ways to arrive at the same destination, which is kind of a principle of my philosophy for the year.

My first destination is Seattle, and my family and I are together on that front. While we cross the orographic puzzle of the Rockies, something I will only do once in the foreseeable future, I decide to rewatch Diarios de Motocicleta. Watching these two Argentinians navigate through South America’s most desolate lands is the perfect tutorial. Che Guevara and Alberto Granado operated like I have to: declared destinations with hazily imagined stopping points.

Once we are on the ground, my mom, dad, sister and I experience firsthand the climate of this part of the United States. Many a time I found myself defending my choice for a starting point against cautions regarding snow and ice. And to be fair, Seattle was virtually tied for the furthest north I had ever been. Just under two years prior, I was subjected to below-zero conditions in Lake County, Minnesota, which just so happens to also rest at 47 degrees north.

But there’s something different going on in Washington that precludes the northern hemisphere’s icy grip from delivering a white winter. It has to do with the stability and influence of the oceanic current that runs along the eastern side of the Pacific Ocean, where it interacts with the west coast of the United States. In this ribbon of green intrudes the tidally-governed Pugent Sound, where Olympia, Tacoma, and Seattle nestle along the shoreline like a string of beads. Just to their east lie the imposing Cascade Mountains. These tall peaks act like a sandcastle moat retaining water on the beach- they prevent the warm and humid air coming off of the ocean to continue its ride with the tradewinds further east. As a result, this part of the country is blanketed by a stable and warm air pocket, even in the depths of winter.

The Mighty Cascades 

It may come as a surprise to you Augustans that in the days leading up to our trip to Washington, weather in Georgia was extremely comparable.

The Rainy Southeast?

Weather is Weird

So enough of the natural history lesson. In the days leading up to the New Year, my home slices and I toured Seattle and the Space Needle and hiked around Olympic National Park.

Floating above Seattle

Dad in the Humbling Woods

Carlee Blazing the Path

And we also relaxed and spent quality time together. To my fam, I cannot express how much these days meant to me. Y’all are my rock and most important support system. Thank you for showing that you are here for me. I love y’all so much.

I know that this one is getting a little long-winded for a summary of a few days, but I wanted to give y’all a feel for the newness. And these are pivotal moments for me: everything is significant when your senses are attuned. Whether that’s the huayno group playing by the Space Needle that harkens back to my soul-building days in Peru, or Do It Again on the radio, an anthem for Kenn Kaufman during his 1973 Big Year. Or maybe it’s this:

Didn’t We Just Come From There?

Or the Final Countdown playing as I pack my bags to head to the B&B. Speaking of the B&B, on the day that my folks headed out, I grabbed an Uber to The Inn at Mallard Cove, my staging ground of the attack. I decided to start this thing out right, by treating myself for the New Year.

My relocation came at a decisive moment. Abandoning the city life for the seclusion of the woods, I could feel hints of freedom trickling into my blood to replace the longing of separation from my family. Awe-inspiring views of Mt. Rainer stoked the fire of adventure within.

Welcome to Washington

Thanks again for reading everyone! If you feel moved to, do not hesitate to donate to one of my selected charities up in the header!

My next post will chronicle the first day of 2020, a monumental one.