Our last zero on the trail.
I sleep amazing on the hard floor with the cool damp air coming in the window, earplugs in my ears to keep out the snoring. Wake feeling tousled and relaxed, as if the set has changed somehow, maybe everything is going to be ok after all. If I get sad I can just think of my dog. Hugging my dog. That seems to help a lot.
The 8 o’clock shuttle takes us to the bakery.
“Just stand a moment and smell it,” says Tiny, as we pass through the big wooden door. I do. Rhubard pie, sausage biscuits. I buy an egg and sausage breakfast sandwich on gluten-free bread and a salad. Might as well start with something nutritious. Might as well delay the glutenfog for a few more hours.
Eating and blogging, eating and blogging. A gluten free carrot muffin, a cup of green tea, a pastry full of chicken and swiss. The others play card games around the big wooden table, day hikers and tourists come and go.
Monopoly back in the village, in the big room overlooking the water, Brainstorm ends up with all the properties and slays us all. Twinkle and I take kayaks out on Lake Chelan. I feel like a duck, paddling across the flat water. Where the water meets the mountain on the other side you can see down, down, into the aquamarine depths, the soft contours of the rock and the submerged trees. There are petroglyphs there, drawings of people and animals and parallel lines to mark the passage of… what?
In the evening there’s an art opening at the ranger station/visitor center- a bunch of paintings made by the locals. A live band is playing, made up of the beautiful hipsters who work at the bakery. We arrive en masse and descend on the food table and then the music ends and we drift back to the hotel, bored.
I think I’ll go to sleep but I can’t. In the big room overlooking the lake people are drinking and playing cards and I join them, filling an empty beer bottle with tap water because there aren’t any cups. We wear ourselves out and finally, around eleven, we drift off to our rooms. Our last zero on the trail, just three more days to the border. I feel suspended in space, between one thing and the next.
Photos on instagram.