Day 22

Bone chilling terror to get to Grandmyre Hot Springs I had know idea what I was in for when I met up with this particular Vincent. Vincent is a man of experience with many different lives it seems. He's been through a lot of shit just in the short time that I have known him. He is a survivor who is still searching for himself in many ways. Nonetheless a likable generous guy. He was really into capturing a good portrayal of his geographical Haul-Way. He took us all over the island and introduced us to very interesting and quirky individuals. He bought us fresh pears and covered our hot springs fees, but we had to pay the price of terror and unknown boudaries. Somehow Vincent had us all agree on going to these killer hot springs not knowing the measure of challenge that was involved. We drove upto North Bend,WA, to a back and beat up road. Then we had to drive that bumpy nausea creating terrain for a good 45 minutes to an hour. Vincent pushed to an edge that I had not yet experienced on the Haul. I had lost all patience and lost my cool because we had been in the car so long, I could feel the same frustration disseminating from Billy & Humpty in the back seat. He also forgot to tell us about crossing a freezing cold stream in our barefeet and bare legs on 12/9/99 in the snow-capped mountains of North Bend,WA. When we got there all of us except Vincent searched along the raging stream for a dry rocky bridge. There was nothing. Somehow he convinced us to cross by crossing himself. I was so mad. That water was so cold it gave me a headache and loss of feeling in my feet for a good 25 minutes. Not only was it freezing cold, it was very rocky and full of rage. It was also a good 35 yards across. Then we had to hike higher and higher to these damn hot springs. "Hot Springs, what's the big deal?" inside me a voice repeating the phrase. We finally got there, and I gotta admit, it was a really cool spot. I had never been to a hot springs before. There was a cave in which the main source fed into. It was pleasantly hot. We stayed in for awhile, warmed up, and then had to begin travels back. When I crossed the creek the second time, though I nearly froze to death, I sacrificed my boots. Geez it was dark at this point. Vincent had a problem with me keeping my boots on. I surely did not. I marched safely and quickly in my bare legs in the waist high waters of a Washington river in December. We drove back into Seattle's U-district for a nice meal at UW's Lox Stock. The cook was really cool, and we took care of him for taking care of us. After that we said goodbye to Vincent, and thanked him for his hospitality and also for the craziest most rigorous adventure, easily, in the Haul.