Morton, Washington. Lumberjack's Jamboree!

How we ended up here, I'll never know. We left from Idaho and drove and drove. Rather than taking the interstate, we decided to follow the good old US 12, a more scenic and slower route through the Cascades around Mount Rainier. Though it did afford us with many outstanding views of the heavily-wooded and mist-shrouded mountains, it was not so kind with providing us a timely place to sleep.

We were lured into one 'Luxury RV Resort' by the placarded Coin Laundry - at that time much needed. There we were greeted by a professional welcome liaison on a golf cart, and we then learned the resort was home to 700 sites (most of which were heavily covered in scrubgrass and anthills, not good country for tents) and a golf cart. We must have lost an hour just trying to leave, and the vibe was very, very weird. So we pressed on...

Which brings us to Morton. By this time it's darker than dark due to the mist and trees, and I'm delirious from twisting mountain roads and watching for elk. So we see a sign heralding 'RV Park' and pull off... we ended up at a city park, where the pay station was actually someone's mobile home. This is not, i repeat is not a regular campground. K disappeared into the trailer for a while, and coming back $20 lighter was asked if we were in town for the 'Logger's Jamboree'. They must not have looked very hard at us, or perhaps there's a different stereotype of environmentalists in Washington. Who knows. So we made camp and slept.

In the morning, I was cornered by a grumpy man who having seen my baseball cap, or perhaps my license plate inquired whether I was from 'Pissy-burgh', making disparaging comments about the Steelers and Pirates. Maybe he's still sour about the 'bad calls' or whatever other excuses Seattle fans make for their Super Bowl loss. As we know, knocking the hometown, and especially the Steelers will not stand. But not wanting to start anything we quickly ate our pancakes and took off. Shame to miss the festivities...