After a couple days of packing and repacking, we had finally
compacted Davon’s belongings down to ¾ of a truck full, compared to my 1 and a
half suitcases. (She had all these frivolous things like dishes and bedding!) We
woke up on Monday morning at 4am to begin the trip south, loaded the last of our belongings into the
truck, picked up Davon’s mom and Tim, then hit the road. We made it as far as
Starbucks and the gas station to fill up Tim and the truck. After a 3h drive to
the southern tip of Vancouver Island, we arrived in Victoria ready to catch the
Black Ball Ferry into the USA. (yes, it really is called the Black Ball Ferry).
The US customs guys come along, car by car, to check your paperwork. Davon
looked a bit dodgy so was asked to step out of the vehicle and place her hands
on the hood of the vehicle, much to the enjoyment of everyone else. Just what
you need at a US border crossing, a wise-guy customs officer who you can’t read
as being serious or joking with anything he says.
Washington
State was a bit of a blur as we drove down towards the Pacific coastline. There
was a lot of green and abandoned houses intermingled with large mounds of
oysters shells from the local shellfish fishery. Davon had the GPS set to the
‘shortest’ rather than the ‘fastest’ route at one point in Oregon. This
resulted in a detour off the main highway and through beautiful farmland onto a
narrow gravel road. At the end of the road, the GPS told us to turn right into
a farmer’s field to cross the remnants of an old wooden bridge to get back to
the main road. For the crystal glassware’s sake, we backtracked to the main
road.
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