One of the pleasures of a journey such as this are the unplanned-for side trips, and the San Juan Islands did not figure into any of my laughable “plans.” Upon a suggestion by a high school friend, Willy and I spent the last four days in the San Juans, staying at campgrounds and a charming pet-friendly hotel to do some laundry, in search of marine life, namely orcas. While Orca Willy made himself scarce, we did see plenty of porpoises, a few seals, a herd (?) of alpacas and one bald eagle. We also hiked to the highest points on each island for commanding views of the harbors, as well as Canada. It was a thoroughly enjoyable break from driving and I had an aha! Moment, to boot—I discovered that I should live on an island—it’s impossible to get lost. Sooner or later water comes into view and you have to make a turn, and all turns eventually lead back to camp, somehow.

When it came time to go, we did so tentatively. My bad. I had failed to make a reservation for the ferry, and it was Sunday. So, we sat on stand-by for nearly five hours. After making our way across the Sound, it started to pour. We got to our next campsite and just hunkered down for the evening. By morning, the skies had cleared and we set out on Route 20, one of the most scenic roads I have ever traveled. And that is where I find myself—in the Northern Cascades. It’s an unbelievable neck of the woods, where the “green” factor is ratcheted up to an 11. Seriously, the moss is covered with moss. I chained my bike up to a tree not five hours ago and I think it’s already sporting a coat. The old direction-finding tool of moss growing on the north side of a tree is completely useless here. Which is why I’ll likely be lost tomorrow.