April 27th--Olympia to Rainbow Falls

I woke up at somewhere around 7:30am, with Andrew's contagious manic energy flowing about the apartment. He asked me if i wanted to take a shower and quickly replied "No" and then added, "i need to keep that protective layer on." It was one of those patently absurd things that comes spilling out of one's mouth before truly becoming awake, which yet contains a kernel of truth to it, if not outright sensibility. I'm still not quite sure how to describe this "protective layer," and yet i have a sense of it, and a notion that showering would deprive me of it. It's sort of like wax--like car wax--or maybe even more like the seasoning on an iron skillet. Truth is, i do feel rather vulnerable when i first get out of the shower. It's why i most enjoy taking showers when i'll have the time to lounge around for a while before venturing out into the world.

Perhaps it has something to do with being a Cancer: my natural filth is my shell, and coming out of it can take some gentle-but-consistent coaxing and a high degree of comfort. As such, if i actually ask you for the use of your shower when i'm visiting, it's for one (or more) of four reasons: 1) because i haven't showered for over a week and don't want to offend, 2) because you're family and i expect your standards to be higher, 3) because i have a bit of a crush on you and want to impress, or 4) because i haven't showered in a day or two and don't expect to get to my next shower within the week.

None of these applied, so i refused Andrew's offer for a shower. I did, however, accept his offer for some cereal with soy milk. It wasn't the four eggs, three potatoes and two loaves of bread that is required for a full breakfast while touring, but it was a good start, especially since i was planning on heading to the Olympia Food Co-op on the way out of town. After a bit of conversation over breakfast, and after Andrew gave me the pages of his Smithsonian magazine containing an article on underwater archaelological finds in Alexandria's harbor, we said our goodbyes and parted ways.

I headed east out of town and stopped a few blocks away at the artesian well to get some water. Around the corner, i stopped at the Jack in the Box to use their bathroom. It was for customers only, so i bought some cheapo breakfast crap and used the bathroom. It was a bit of an emergency. I think maybe it was the soy milk? I don't eat a whole lot of soy these days.

Having relieved myself, chatted with a fellow Jack in the Box patron about bicycle touring and eaten my wax-paper-wrapped crapola, i headed up the hill toward the co-op. For some reason, i was totally out of it. I must have spent a good 45 minutes in there, trying to figure out what to buy. I think i went back and forth between the jarred peanut butter and honey section and the bulk version of the same at least five times. In the end, i stuck with the bulk, making a huge mess with the honey. I also discovered that they had amaranth flour and maple sugar there, so i got some of that as well. And Lara bars, as i had run out and they are damned good.

I spent another 30 minutes outside mixing the amaranth and honey and peanut butter into a gooey substance and stuffing it into my tubes (food tubes for camping, not bicycle tubes). I think it was shortly before noon when i finally left. I made my way to old Hwy 99 on Andrew's suggestion and made my first stop at Tenino. There were a number of interesting old buildings there, as well as a "manufactured community." I couldn't resist taking a picture of the sign for the latter. There was also a fine city park there, with an old train depot for a museum. It was unfortunately closed, but made me happy nevertheless. There was a pool, but it was all fenced off, and i'm not sure if this was just for the season or if it was closed for good. There was a lovely manufactured waterfall flowing into the pool. I stopped at the park and ate some baby carrots and peanut butter for a bit, then continued down the road.

I took Hwy 507 out of town and through Bucoda, where the road started running alongside the picturesque Skookumchuck River and into Centralia. Centralia was a somewhat larger town, the kind with two major streets, both one way, running opposite directions. There were murals along the way, most of them crappy historical nostalgia pieces, sponsored by banks, religious societies and logging companies. I went around in search of a mural i knew existed about the Centralia Massacre, an event on Armistice Day, 1919, in which a patriotic parade led by the Centralia Protective Association (if i recall correctly) had laid seige to the IWW local headquarters. Wobblies inside the hall protected the building by force of arms and killed four attackers. The building was eventually over-run and the Wobblies were arrested. Wesley Everest, one of their number, and a soldier during the Great War, was subsequently lynched and hung from a bridge over the Chehalis River. I'll have to look this up when i return home, but i believe that's how the story goes. Wesley Everest is one of those about whom the IWW phrase "in November we remember" was coined. He was one of several union organizers and agitators martyred that year.

I couldn't find the mural for some time, but stopping at the city square in front of the library, i did find a complex of war memorials, the centerpiece of which being a statue commemorating the four soldiers who were killed during, according to a bit of historical revisionism, a "peaceful parade". There was also a memorial to all of the soldiers killed in duty from Centralia, from WWI up through "Operation Iraqi Freedom" (is it still called that?). There were three names listed and, optomistically enough, room for three more. I'm not sure how recently it had been updated. There was also a plaque in commemoration of 9/11/01.

Having become thoroughly disgusted by this display, i glanced across the street and caught sight of the mural i had been looking for. It was a Diego Rivera-esque piece up high, in vivid color (unlike the faded murals on other facades) on the Centralia Square building. Pleased that there was at least some sort of counter-point to the official version that was being ardently kept alive by current residents in front of the Library, i carried on.

I stopped again in Chehalis, at a natural foods store in the remarkably active downtown strip of town. I bought some raspberry mate and Pelegrino, being somewhat low-energy, and also got some Dagoba chocolate for later. I sat outside drinking my beverages, mixed together, and chatted with Adrienne for some time, then headed on down the road once again.

I passed some sureños graffiti and then crossed the Chehalis River on Hwy 6. The ride became more pleasant after passing Chehalis' city-owned poplar plantations (an official measure, i gather, to keep the local logging industry on life support) and heading into the forests and hills to the west along the Chehalis River. The smells were wonderful, and i would occassionally get a whiff of Vanilla Leaf (which doesn't smell like much at all when fresh, but smells strongly of vanilla when it dries or decays). I took a couple very pleasant detours off of Hwy 6: one around Curtis Hill and another onto River Rd., near Ceres.

Not long after, i reached my destination of Rainbow Falls State Park. I wandered around for a bit trying to find the hiker/biker sites. There was a kid riding around on his BMX with a sibling or friend, and he asked me for help tightening his chain. He was elated when i was able to get it fixed for him (it required some particular skills that go along with having a fixed-gear bike). I eventually asked the campground host where the hiker/biker sites were and he directed me back toward the entrance. The price was a bit high for a primitive site at $14, but i was alright with it.

I was surprised and excited to find the campsite covered with trillium plants everywhere. I took a few pictures of plants and worked out my route for the next day, then went to sleep with just some carrots in my belly.