ASHiNGTON
ISLAND HOPPING IN THE NORTHWEST BY TONY GILL
H E F E R R Y R I D E L A S T E D a little more
than 20 minutes after leaving Point Defiance, but the misty breeze had me feeling as though I was crossing an endless sea. Clearly, I’ve been a landlocked captive in Utah if the short crossing of Puget Sound’s south end had me feeling like I was Shackleton with a sextant, but I’m unashamed to admit how pleasant the ride was. After disembarking on Vashon Island, I hit the pavement and started turning the pedals aboard a moderately loaded bicycle with an illfitting frame bag and a cranky derailleur. The faintly rural vibe of the quiet tree-lined streets felt lightyears away from the relative metropolises of Tacoma and Seattle, buzzing with activity just across the sound. I’d set out with few plans other than to cycle around Vashon, stopping intermittently at various locations around Maury Island—an island within an island connected to Vashon by a causeway—and Vashon’s downtown, which is comprised of a single four-way intersection with an unlikely concentration of delightful food and drink establishments. On the route I was immersed in the classically moody Pacific Northwest atmosphere with a moist haze—never really rain, but never not rain—that’s a refreshing respite from the, at times oppressive, aridity characterizing much of the Intermountain West.
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