Seattle at last.
It seemed like a luxury all of a sudden, to have slept in beds two nights in a row, rather than in my amazingly small sleeping bag and tent. I woke up at noon, while Ashton still slept. I sat up and nudged him a little and he only let out a fart. I laughed at his response and proceeded to the bathroom to take a look at myself. I looked at my beard. It didn't hang out like Ashton's did. It just sort of clung to my face, the way Hipsters used to grow their beards back in the late 2000's. It didn't seem epic, but this was the most facial hair I had ever had. I brushed my teeth and returned to the room to see Ashton spooning a pillow. Jokingly, I spoke in falsetto "Oh Ashiepoo, you know how to make a girl happy." With that, I saw a smile stretch over his face. In our iteneraries, we had decided to take the day we got to Seattle to visit everything we could before we would cross the border the next day. So far, a third of the day was over and we still were inside the hotel.
I pulled the pillow out from his claw like grip and his arms snapped around him like a bear trap. He shuddered awake instantly. He stared at me and went to the bathroom and shut the door. By the time he came out, it was two. But I laughed when I saw him. He shaved his epic beard to resemble the clingy hipster like beard I was sporting now.
"Nothing. I thought your beard was epic."
"It still is."
"C'mon, we got stuff to see in Seattle."
I clawed the back of my head for things to do in Seattle. I could only muster a few, "We could see the world's first Starbucks, and go to the Pike's Market, and see the needle, and of course R.E.M. Koolhaus' library." I hoped that was sufficient.
This time, the cycles were lighter, not loaded with panniers, leathery oilskins and plastic cases. This time, just two riders and their cameras. We saw the sites, we ate the food, we did this and we did that, but we wanted a drink. The last beer we had was on our third day, a bottle of Moosehead lager I bought at the convience store. We found a pub, walked down into the basement and it almost felt like walking into Cheers.
We stumbled home, walking our Mopeds, and singing a song. We locked the bikes to the chain post and to the rain gutter, and to a vending machine for some reason unknown. We retired to our room, took off our heavy outer wear, and plopped down and fell asleep.