Leaving Ferndale, reaching Arlington

Sunday May 6, Monroe Highway 2 East – motel Fairground Inn. Sitting outside, room 107.
Because I had no internet access yesterday I wrote my notes in Word. Did it in English, so Judy, Ron and their family can read it. Thank you for the great start of my trip, dear family, leave muoike! Love you!!
Back to yesterday.

Cycled out of Ferndale this morning. I was a bit emotional leaving Judy and muoike Janny. I might never see muoike again. She is 84.
I could not have wished for a better start of this trip. Judy advised and coached me with device and cycle accessories. She was the most supportive cousin and fun to be with.
Jim (Judy’s brother), Ron (husband) ánd Judy thought with me about how and where to cycle and what precautions to take.
Hwy 20 is closed because of the snow.
Hwy 2 is shorter than to parallel Interstate 90. My bike(!!)-route directed me ON the Interstate 90 for a dozen of miles. Dreaded that, but fortunately, there are alternatives: Hwy 2.
A friend of theirs, Travis, suggested I’d take his gun. I held it. It was a big one!
I told him I had bear spray and an anti rapist whistle.

Judy and I bought three bottles of white wine, American size, for the barbecue that was planned on Thursday night. We started drinking as soon as we got home from Walmart.
I love Walmart. Judy said she hates it.
It’s my ultimate American experience. The store is huge. It cannot be compared to Albert Hein, Bijenkorf or whatever. There just is no Dutch equivalent. It sells everything! Weapons, tic tweezers, sun cream spf 100….  I bought two of the three.
It smells! Really, all Walmarts smell the same!
And it’s the best place for human studies. I observed, while Judy was arranging my things.
We saw women with butt cheeks on both their behind and their front.
A guy had the beautiful scenery of Ferndale tattooed in his neck: Mount Baker, spruce trees and a lake.
We talked to someone and did not agree about the gender.

That evening I met cousin Jim and three of his daughters: Sara, Anna and Jamie and their spouses: Steven, Rudy and Steve (I might misspell their names). Very nice young people.
Jim is very ‘ruwe bolster, blanke pit’. A big guy with a beard, a full dark voice and outspoken. I didn’t feel comfortable with him right away. Loved him within an hour. He was very interested, caring, read into my route with me and gave me advice. He left the party early, because he had to be on the road at one am. He gave me a protective hug for a goodbye (my interpretation).
Another aunt of mine, Arendsje Post, stopped by. On her bike! We visited for an hour both muoikes, and I in Frisian, asked and told each other about the mutual family members and what memories we have.

Yesterday I sat for hours to write down every detail about my route and prepared my bike.
The best part was attaching my flag. Heit and mem visited me in The Hague last Saturday (left on Monday) and they brought a bright orange and Frisian flag on an antenna. I was looking forward to attaching the thing to my bike.
It’s a success! I like the sight of it and I feel safe.

I cried leaving the Reimer premises. So did Judy.
Leaving lovely people was one reason. The other reason was that I was nervous. From that moment on I was on my own.
After an hour I felt okay. I enjoyed cycling through Bellingham and Fairhaven; bit of a hippie town. My direction notes were accurate. Chuckanut Drive direction Burlington is so beautiful. It’s along the Pacific coast. After the first mountain pass I looked behind and felt proud of myself. The mountain that seemed so high turned out to be very doable.
The flat country behind it looked a bit like Friesland. Cows, farms, green pastures, wind, enormous ligboxenstallen.…  But with the view of mountains with snow on top on my left side.

In Burlington I had my second break with coffee. Debbie at the gas station didn’t charge me and offered me a lift to Arlington. I kindly ‘no thank you’-ed her and regretted it later. My assumption was since the names of both towns being alike, they would be not far apart. Well, Burlington and Arlington are many miles apart. I felt fit the whole day, but 15 miles south of Burlington a headache came up and being in the mountains again, my legs were not amused. After every peak I desperately hoped for Arlington’s billboards and neon lights to friendly smile and shine at me, but no…
Peak after peak after peak …. No Arlington. Visions of the movie The Blair witch Project unwillingly went through my mind. The whole effing town might not exist and I could be cycling the whole night and never …
I asked a young guy who definitely not looked like a weirdo (I’d already reached the screening phase) and he told me that it was not further than four miles.
He said there was a bike path parallel to Hwy 9. And indeed! A Dutch type of bike path! Not a shoulder with the cyclist logo, but a real fietspad! Between Hwy 9 and the fietspad was a green shoulder of at least five meters wide. It had trees, mayflowers and grass. Just like in Holland. Het fietspad took me over the river and it stopped right there in town.
I asked a gentleman standing on a parking lot next to his motor bike for a motel or camp ground. The nearest option was Motor Inn on 530 NE - about three miles east. Three miles is far! At that moment the biker’s son pulled over with his pick up. They gave me a lift.

The room is comfortable and clean. Unfortunately neighbour Denny’s is closed. I had a sandwich in Subway and asked if they’d sell wine…
No white wine tonight.