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Thursday, August 27, 2015

A Living Magazine - Day 66 - Sleeping In Seattle

Another good sleep. I was ready to move on. Seattle was to be the last and biggest place to visit on the West Coast. I had a ticket for this day and looked forward to riding the train north. Seattle had intimidated me a bit when I was on my way out of California. But, now that I'd been in so many different cities and towns it really was just another city to me in the practical sense--something I would have to find a temporary base in, learn the layout and where key places were for internet, food and drink. 

I've noticed that no matter what city I get to, there ends up being a certain district or part that I gravitate to and then spend much of my time there. Yes, I often end up exploring the whole city, but some places are just more practical and comfortable than others. It's always good to find places that are near the sleeping spots, but that doesn't always work. 

I didn't know how it would be in Seattle, but I have a rule: There is always a sleeping place within a five mile radius of the center of any town or city. The smaller it is, the shorter the radius will be. Even Seattle - which covers quite a lot of territory - there are green areas both east and west, within three miles. That is what I shoot for as a first attempt. Then after I get to know the city, I can work my way inward if possible, or at least make mental notes about other places if the one I'm in doesn't work out. But the hotel room would be NICE! 

I had not had a shower since July 28th. My legs had a patina of bronze mica and dust, sealed on by dew in the mornings. My feet were definitely nearly healed. New thicker socks helped tremendously. But, now the lining of my right boot was ripping (it begins!).

One last walk downtown... 


Would you buy a car from this man? Actually that black Jeep looked nice.



Such are many of the buildings in town.



Main Street.



This is a church - couldn't figure out what denomination it was - with great architecture.
I think they are the ones who do all of the positive affirmations in chalk on the sidewalks. Neat place.



For the headless walker.


First, I had to get to FedEx to print out my ticket...


Then it was back to Starbuck's to check in online...


Starting to catch my drift about the Redding comparison (where they permanently closed the Amtrak Station lobby, because of vandalism)?



I did some work at Starbuck's, but got antsy around 2:00 pm. I was scheduled to leave at 4:21 and though I checked the location of the train station on Google Maps and Street View (very helpful, by the way), I never like to wait until the last minute with train or bus stations. I'm a bit manic about it I guess. I try to get there less than an hour early...sometimes two hours early. The manned stations have restrooms. Unfortunately, they often don't have Wi-Fi for some reason...


I liked this mural.



Wearing my traveling shirt, to instantly turn into a respectable citizen.


Vancouver, Washington Amtrak Station, looking south down the tracks.







Here comes the Cascades train. That's what I was hoping for,
but got the Starlight (Train 14) again. I'd taken that same
train at various times all the way from California.




I was sitting in the station watching a guy get medieval on the snack machine, nearly tipping it over, for his chips or whatever. Bright pink shirt. Same color as his face. The two older agents at the ticket counter pretended not to see a thing, so they wouldn't have to deal with the guy.

Then, like a strange hallucination, a line of senior-aged folks came streaming in. Ten, twenty, fifty...! I guess some bus had just pulled up. I had been planning to use the bathroom but procrastinating, since no one had been around. Now my plans were dashed, as 60 seniors filtered through the bathroom.

Meanwhile, one of them was pestering his guide (who I think worked for Amtrak) about how the train schedules and switching works (they all had cameras, like from a train convention or something), while the rest of them slowly orbited the interior of the station reading all the dingy posters and the train history of Vancouver display. There was a poster behind me, and each guy, or a few of their wives, would stand right in front of me and read over my head, and then move on. I just got up and went outside.

Whenever a train whistle blew - even just a freight train - they'd all grab their cameras and run for a window. I mean, I'm no big train enthusiast but you get used to seeing freight trains pretty quickly, so there must have been some serious interest for these folks. They all looked like a bunch of my old Grandad Wall's class of traveler. It's something he would have done. Yacht club, golf club, country club, garden club, types of old-schoolers, having made their millions they are now going to walk slowly around and see all the things they missed in life...


Train stations like this are always on the outskirts of town, near industrial sites, manufacturing and shipping warehouses and such. In this case we were treated to the metal scrapping plant...



And around the corner on the "other side of the tracks", a small refinery...


Some shapes and textures...




Oh, thank god! They're back on the bus...



Then, exactly on time, I heard the whistle of Train 14. And they announced its arrival...


The train was close to full and I was seated with a young lady who was very nice, though looked disappointed that she couldn't have the seats to herself, which I totally understood. It sucks. I was hoping to have a seat to myself. But it was what it was. I was on the outside and asked if I could plug in the laptop, which would have meant the cord would be awkwardly across her legs. She offered to switch seats, which we did. I felt bad, but she was on the phone (texting or talking) the whole way, so I guess she didn't care. I tried to take a nap. It was over three hours, so there was time...


We made three stops along the way, the last being in Tacoma before reaching Seattle. And, we pulled in to the King Street Station early (first time that's ever happened to me). Really nice interior, all done in white molding...


The hotel room was set for the next night, so I had to find a place to sleep on this night. I'd planned an elaborate trip east to a large park about three miles away. But I wanted to find some place closer downtown if I could. I got temporarily lost, not knowing what road led off Dearborn, but did check a bunch of places up on a grassy slope--but there were a few tents, and tried Rainier for a few blocks until I got to Jackson Street.

I was tired, and just wanted to spend the next hours resting until I could check in at the Marriott Courtyard Hotel, at Pioneer Square in the morning. As I walked up the hill on Jackson, about halfway down the block was one little patch of grass, and a pine tree whose lowest branches hid a space in the shadows there. That was it.

The ground was covered in ivy. I laid the tarp out, then just sat on it, not wanting to deal with the sleeping bag. Eventually, I found myself lying on my side on the tarp and got a bit chilly. Out came the sleeping bag, and it was nice and warm. Cars and people passed by just feet away. On my other side was a steep hill. It was a good temporary or last-resort place, but I'd never be able to spend a week there. I slept for about 5 hours...


Seattle Sleeping Place 1

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