
As kids we spent many a holiday in the San Juan Islands. My mum would pick my sister, my dad and I up at Tuc-el-Nuit and we’d hit the road right after school. We’d waste no time, heading out without even a quick stop at home. Sometimes we’d get so excited that we’d eat our pepperoni sticks and teddy grahams before we’d even crossed the border. All times we’d be forced to listen to the Cruisin’ Classics tapes my dad had got at the Shell Station.
We’d make the long drive down through the desert, over the cool dark mountains, and out to the ferry as though on autopilot. We’d stop in Newhalem if we left early enough in the day and there was time for picnicking. Otherwise we’d stop at the Kentucky Fried Chicken in Anacortes for dinner. I would get the hot wings. Mel and I would make a quick stop at the ferry snack shop to steal quarters from the pay phones and then aboard the ferry we’d all go. I remember the smells and the sounds and the dampness as if it was yesterday.
There was always something special about the drive to Friday Harbor, especially the very last leg of the journey as the car would roll off the ferry and into the town. The car would make a funny sound as it hit the land again. It felt like vacation.
Now that Jake and I are living in Vancouver, the jaunt to the San Juan Islands is easy as pie. We can make it to the ferry landing in under 2 hours, even if we factor in a stop at the newly renovated KFC in Anacortes. Old habits die hard. The route is a lot different, but the smells and sounds and excitement are still the same. My next task is to whip up a Cruisin’ Classics playlist for the iPod and really take a trip down memory lane.
Above: The sticky plastic chairs in the outdoor waiting room at the San Juan Souvenir Stop in Anacortes. Washington State managed to find the world’s nastiest plastic covering for their waiting rooms and ferries. Any part of your exposed body somehow gets painfully stuck to this material and removing yourself from it is more painful than waxing. Beware of this sometimes beige, sometimes green stuff.

0 Responses to “Friday Harbor, Friday Harbor”