“Do you want to go to Port Townsend?”
“Okay” I replied. I didn’t know what Port Townsend was, where it was, or why it would be interesting, but the word “port” implied it would be near water, and I felt content exploring somewhere near water.
“God, it’s so beautiful” Dave repeated as we drove through a lush valley on the way up, “I could live here” he said. It reminded Dave of his trip to Ireland. It reminded me of my trip to Wales. This was the trip where my parents and I extended our stay in Wales by three days rather than returning to London for the last three days of the trip. It really was beautiful, and that’s why we stayed.
Dave and I talked life for nearly the entire drive up, concluding in a discussion about gender that men and women are so different in how they think that it is silly for them to be discussed so frequently in perfectly equal terms. Women seem to understand emotions and relationships much better than guys, but, because they are so efficient at reading and reacting on an emotional level, at least to guys, seem to use less hard logic in their thought processes.
While Dave searched for a present for his girlfriend Liz, a beautiful girl that is in line very much with what was discussed about gender above, I decided to explore a little. I saw a bell tower on the top of a bluff a ways up and decided to check it out. It wasn’t a straight shot and forced me to tour through a neighborhood. Walking down the streets I saw houses with really interesting and unique architecture. Then, following the street, come to an opening where I expected to see the bell tower. Instead there was an amazing house and an equally amazing view. I was attracted to both and my curiosity brought me walking toward into the yard toward the fence overlooking the water.
I stopped about 20 feet from the fence when I saw a woman mowing the lawn behind the house. She smiled and let the lawnmower die.
“[Referring to the wet grass] If you don’t mind your shoes getting a little wet, walk out to the fence and take a look” I smiled and approached the fence. She mowed for a little longer and I absorbed the view. She let the lawnmower die again and asked where I was from. I explained myself and we started talking. Her name was Linda and she was the President of the Jefferson County Historical Society (how lucky was that!).
In fact, her house, which I inquired about immediately, was built in 1883 and is on the national register for historic places. She also explained a bit of the town’s history. In around 1893 it was the second biggest port in the United States, second only to that of New York City. They planned to build a railroad there that would connect it inland more but steam power on ships became popularized and allowed the ships to make it through to Seattle. She highlighted this as the reason the city was so well preserved in its historical state: Industry was kicked up and then the lights were “turned out” on Port Townsend when it lost its use as a major port.
I think the age and preservation of the town was what was most attractive to us. I remarked many times that I love old industrial buildings in which you can see the painted advertisements on the sides in huge faded bold lettering. I find a great deal of comfort in things that have survived years of weather and use. This might be why I suggested we jump into an antique store we passed on our way to the old City Hall, as recommended by Linda. The store appeared small from the outside but once inside, it appeared to go on forever. There were all sorts of hidden rooms in the store floor full of furniture. One set was supposed to have been owned by a member of the Backstreet Boys as a friendly, yet very salesman-like man explained to us. He seemed to enjoy his job though, and you could tell he was not feigning excitement about many of the store’s ancient treasures. One of these was a three-foot long model ship selling for $3,500 that was made entirely out of cloves. Its black skeletal nature emitted a sense of death like a bright flower radiates life.
After the antique store we visited the City Hall, which was very nicely redone. It still had the original impressively high ceilings (I estimated 18feet). We walked out and as we wandered toward are next destination. On our way Dave brought up the fact that there were few kids having fun in the down by the water. We wondered why. We ended up at water and stood next to an enormous log carved into two benches and some sea turtles. The way the water laid between shallow bluffs reminded me of Missouri and the river towns surrounding St. Louis. Every fall my grandparents, parents and I would go through them on the way to pick apples and every time I would stop to get home made ice cream from an ice cream parlor in the town. As we walked, we came upon a young and very excited looking policeman. His eyes were wide and a huge smile rested upon his soft jaw-line.
“Do you know where I can get some home made ice cream?” I asked him. He gave us directions. I thought ice cream would be a good way to conclude another great Sunday with Dave. And it was.
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