Sunday, June 22, 2014

Lucky Friday the 13th

There is nothing that compares to waking up in the woods and the process of getting ready for bed is what makes it all the more rewarding. Brushing your teeth around the fire pit under the blanket of stars, when the cool night air has creeped its way into camp, then sleeping-bag-cocooning yourself after quietly crawling into the tiny door of your highlighter orange, nylon tent, trying to avoid simultaneously blinding your "roommate" with the headlamp perched on your crown while using said headlamp to avoid trampling your unsuspecting snoozing friend with your new L.L. Bean hiking boots

We ventured out of Richland Friday night to watch my godfather/super cool uncle play a show at a tap room called "The Phat House" in Spokane. About an hour out of Richland, trees began popping up alongside us, the hills became more pronounced and suddenly, we found ourselves in coniferous rolling mountains, reasonable temperatures, and moisture in the air. I felt like I could finally breath leaving behind the dry suffocating heat of the Tri-cities. After driving aimlessly in circles for about 20 minutes upon entering Spokane, we realized we had been driving around the tiny slate blue house that was the Phat House, shadowed by the interstates bridge, the entire time. We were welcomed by red coca cola umbrellas crookedly perched on their bases, sporadically scattered about the front porch and we snuck in, receiving much needed hugs from aunt Joan and my younger cousin, Jacob as Joe was playing master story of telling, as per usual, on stage. 

My uncle Joey, musically known as, The Wrong Omar, is a one man band of sorts who plays  guitar, harmonica, tambourine on one foot, bass drum on the other and sings simultaneously.
Tell me this probably isn't the coolest person you will ever meet
Joe's not only a fantastic musician but an incredible performer and has a witty story that accompanies almost every song. I have listened to some of these stories what seems like a thousand times and every time, without fail, I am totally and completely engrossed, even eager to hear punchlines I've heard before. When I was younger, we would pop in his c.d. on long road trips and every time I am lucky enough to hear him play, especially hearing his classics a.k.a Ms Ellie or Monopoly, I can close my eyes and imagine, staring out the window sleepy eyed  in the back seat of the minivan as we made our way back from Quetico into a sea of black studded with twinkling city lights.

After Joe finished playing, we stole my cousin Jacob and followed my aunt and uncle to our campsite in the nine mile wilderness of Washington. The Honey moon glowed ethereally above us as we sped through the hills with windows rolled down and chilly night air keeping us awake. In a sort of "Travis Moser camping trip" turn of events, we ended up driving around for an extra hour searching for our campground and finally found it around midnight. We finished the night with I.P.As, pink lady apples, and a type of cheese that's name is momentarily lost to me but was cheese so delicious nonetheless, and began a year's worth of catching up under the stars.

If you want to listen to some of my uncles music:

1 comment:

  1. :) Love the update Erin. Your descriptive writing takes me write along with you. Your Dad, Henry and I were gazing at the same honey moon that night - makes me feel like you are not so far away!