4:30am; I’d left the phone plugged and charging and as Angie called to leave a voicemail she was surprised, and felt guilty, when I answered. I could have cared less that it was late; it was nice to talk and console her as ailments back home were brewing against her again. It always feels good to cheer a buddy. We talked until about 5 then as we hung up I thought it’d be a good idea to get a real jump on the day.
7am came around and I re-awoke having failed at my early jump. Whatever, no rush. Being pretty much already packed from not having to unpack I was out the door in no time traversing what was the long hot road in the cool morning air. Toppenish came quickly and with ease by 8:30.
There was a casino buffet place I wanted to stop in at that I’d been seeing billboards for, and it looked like it’d be on the road. When I got up to where it should be I was a bit disappointed to find it was a half mile off the road and I decided I wasn’t that enthusiastic about it. I’d figured out that three miles before my produce stand house I’d hit my 3,000 mile mark; about where the family gave me two drinks. My idea was then that in Toppenish I’d hit this casino buffet and play three bucks on the video poker as a celebration. Instead there was a super travel gas mart at the turn off intersection so I got four more beef bean burritos and coffee for breakfast and plopped there for about an hour.
The road from there into Yakima turned busy and widened into a four lane highway. I had a few more towns along the way in before my city that were evenly spaced for breaks, but as I hit them I stayed only briefly and pushed forward hoping for library time in the big city despite it being Sunday.
In Wapato, my first encounter was a gas station that made it look like the town was off the road. I’d thought of grabbing lunch there but settled for a PowerAde not wanting to stray far. A mile or so past I discovered there was much to wait for, but having had my break already I simply breezed through the various cafes around the next light.
Parker promised nothing by my map seeming a dinky little town but it still managed to conjure up a little roadside café shack and some produce stands. I slid by them as well thinking still of updating and a fruit sampling I’d read about in Yakima.
Trucking on to the city the road came up to the hills and maneuvered around to a little pass where the river, interstate, and my highway were let through. On the other side was the aptly named gateway town to Yakima called Union Gap. Here I knew I was close and switched my map around to the inset map of the city. I was tired at this point though, having stretched myself so long from Toppenish that as soon as I stepped out of Union Gap onto the inset map I gunned down a phonebook and called the library. Open, but only for another 50 minutes, and it was a 40 minute walk from where I was. Hmph. I discovered the phone book in a laundrymat, and near the laundrymat was a diner, so I threw in my stuff to wash and got some grub.
Joined to the diner was its companion pub in which they started their Sunday evening event of kids’ karaoke. As I ate, and came and went, from the laundrymat I appraised the quality of performances, being an old Karaokier myself. Some had good funk, others needed the pizzazz. For my meal I ordered a dinner meal for the first time rather than a sandwich or breakfast and came to discover it had not only a salad opener, but an apple pie dessert closer. Something to note.
I wrapped up dinner by 5:30 feeling I had plenty of time to clear the city to good camping grounds again. About a half an hour later that notion shifted. It was six and I was knee deep in urban sprawl. Phone lines coursing the skies, commercial businesses and endless stripmalls lined the roads, and beyond that the promise of suburbs was starting to be suggested to my plotting mind.
Having reshuffled everything in the pack for laundry I took that opportunity to shed the boots of pain and give my sandals a shot. The sweet relief felt back on the outskirts of Denver last summer was the aim for the switch, but it did not come. Perhaps the feet were too cramped or perhaps the sandals were simply not as comfy as those of yesteryear. But the onset of the sandal simply left my tender feet open to the rigors of invading pebbles and the dangers of broken glass.
I walked out of Yakima thinking I’d scouted out a short cut down Nob Hill Blvd. then up N. 40th Ave. As I neared 40th I realized I’d just adjusted my route to the long way rather than taking a slight diagonal. On top of that N. 40th landed itself draped over a hill so I had to climb up one side in my sandaled feet then descend the other into Fruitvale. It was there my disappointment in my planning was relieved some.
By this point I was figuring I’d screwed up so bad that I’d lost several miles to my short cut. Not so. I simply turned up on the edge of the city in a different way, but was still three and a half miles beyond its center in Fruitvale so my voyage out still required the same amount of miles to get to Gleed and a country setting again. By dusks coming I managed to cross the Naches River and find a reasonably doable spot for me to plop down and pitch the tent.
My site that night was right by the intersection to Gleed and directly under a street lamp. Just worked out that way. I made some calls, then read a bit, but was tuckered so none of that lasted too long before I laid out to rest.