Chillin' - Olympia, WA - 7020 Miles

We've managed nearly two weeks at my brother-in-law's house without being thrown out. I continue to spend much of my time relaxing on the deck studying the animals below. I've learned roosters don't crow at dawn; they crow pretty much whenever the Hell they want to. I've learned the main function of the llamas is to protect the sheep from marauding coyotes. If a coyote is spotted, the sheep gather behind the llamas forming their own little order of battle. Also while many things send both dogs barking and scurrying toward the barn or pasture, others cause only the younger dog to move while the older stays behind with a "call me if you need me" look on his face. I identify more with the older dog although I can't think of anything at the moment that would send me scurrying.

Mick sometimes splits wood to add to the pile. I helped by splitting one piece, but after doing the math and realizing wood burns faster than I am capable of splitting it, and with only four months until winter sets in, it seemed the prudent action was handing the axe back to Mick. Terry helped gather the split wood while my biggest contribution turned out to be taking a picture of the event. I also got a picture of Maggie riding Phoenix.















One day Terry and I, along with Gus, drove along the Hood Canal - a leg of the Puget Sound. I'm told the Hood Canal is one of only two fjords in the US. Not knowing the technical definition of a fjord, I'll just take their word for it.















We stopped at a state park along the way to watch people gather shellfish at low tide. Approaching an older couple along the shore Terry asked, "What are you looking for, clams or oysters?"

"Whatever we can find," the man said as his wife grinned and held up a newly discovered clam. "Here, let me show you." He started walking a short distance to where they kept their catch.

"I don't want to take you away from what you're doing," Terry said.

"I'm not doing anything," he replied as his squatting wife continued digging feverishly. I suddenly felt a strong bond to this man.

He explained the tricks of the shellfish trade revealing where you would look for clams vs oysters vs mussels. He told that an individual can harvest 18 oysters a day and either 40 or four pounds of clams (whichever you get to first). He also told of being fined $250 because he and his wife had 36 oysters in one bucket instead of 18 each in two buckets. I'm sure that somehow helped save the environment, but I'm not sure how. Someone (besides me) had too much time on their hands.

At another park we could look into the crystal-clear water and see starfish, crab, and jellyfish. We watched two crabs fight it out over a mussel while a third feasted on a jellyfish. For some reason I thought the jellyfish would win out but it turns out its defenses were pretty much useless against a crab. Crabs would climb over starfish but they seemed pretty disinterested in each other.

I took a picture of Gus as he went to check out several nearby starfish. The Hood Canal was so clear you almost can't tell in the photo the starfish were under water. The shoreline is made up almost completely of shells. Most are oyster although clams, mussels, and crab are mixed in. You have to dig through several layers of shells to get to sand. Turning over rocks causes at least half a dozen small crab to scramble under the closest hiding spot before the seagulls spot them.















Making smores one evening just before sunset (or in the gloaming as Linda says).

We'll be here until Friday and have decided against continuing north to Canada from here. I don't think I've fully recovered from the ugly seagull incident in Victoria. We'll start heading east and south but it looks like it will be much more of a meandering process than simply driving straight back to Texas.