Welcome to Lake Truck Stop

Here's a post that will disprove the myth that everything during this trip is dandy. It's almost midnight and we're in a truck stop somewhere in Washington spending the night. That's just the icing on the cake of today's events.

We've been driving since morning, we scraped the side of the RV trying to fit our way out of the last wooded campsite, we basically got lost three times trying to find a place to settle in forcing us to unhook the towed vehicle (5x total!) so we can turn this rolling giant around without a) falling into a cliff b) trying to kill the bystander who said, "yes, there's a campground here!" and c) smashing the peacefully parked cars in a tiny parking space-slash-dead end; after which we have to connect the towed vehicle *again* so we can drive off before the piranha-like mosquitoes start peeling off our flesh.

Apparently, ALL of Seattle's parks and campsites are full due to a 3-week summer event, which is just halfway through. So for tonight - no surrounding mountains, just 60-90 ft trucks. No cascading water sounds or chirping birds, just the rumbling and grumbling of more than 30 rigs lined up (and that's just to the left side of us). The crickets were replaced by sound coming from the adjacent high way, competing with the noise from bellows of trucks and cars taking off after filling their tanks with gas from a station just in front. The light from the then romantic moon was washed by the lamp posts, blasting down thousands of watts of pure uninterrupted halogen light - if you squint a little you'd swear it's already high noon standing under those lamps. And forget the fresh air, all the diesel in the atmosphere have now invited themselves into your lungs and is enough to ignite you to flames if someone lit a cigarette even from a hundred feet away.

Still, we anticipate hitting the road again tomorrow, we look forward to more adventures, to scenic routes, to breath-taking destinations and surprises that inspire us, to meeting family we haven't seen in years(!), and friends we miss dearly. So tonight, amidst the disdain and chaos in Lake Truck Stop, we're gonna sleep, cuddle, and as best as we could, be comfortable and keep warm - all twelve feet.