Somehow I forgot to look out the window before getting dressed this morning, so I was still in short sleeves and sandals when I realized it was 12C and threatening rain.
Rain on the interstate, so like a cat going to the other door, we made our way off the beaten path and back to good old Highway 2, the same one as we were on back in Havre. It was still raining, of course, and oncoming vehicles would splash us blind, but traffic was light and the rain soon abated.
Stopped for gas in some tiny town, and got a coffee to warm up. Lunch at Cashmere, at a little drive-in called Rusty’s. You can get a cheeseburger with Rusty sauce. I mean, really, what more could you ask?
A few minutes later we were in Leavenworth, Washington, which for reasons I am too lazy to read, has re-invented itself as a fake Bavarian Village with gingerbread trim on all the hotels and pig German slogans such as ‘Pizza and Doggies – Das ist gut, ja?”. I don’t know if Wolf would beat his head against the dashboard or laugh out loud! We were quite taken with the complete ban on electric signs last fall, but up close, it’s just too much. Still, our hotel is nice, and we walked downtown to a wine tasting to try and dispel a bad mood that had settled on Caroline. Nice wine host at Ryan Patrick, and we liked their whites so much we had a glass each before dinner.
Stopped at the deli next door to buy Liverwurst, because we usually fail to find it in American deli’s. I do not know if it’s truly Bavarian, but it’s got to be more German than pizza.
Had crepes at Pavz. The seafood crepe is one of the house specialties, but I actually liked the shrimp crepe better. The friendly table next to us turned out to have a home in Yakima, and were thrilled that we liked the place and it’s wine. (We were drinking some at the time, a Kestrel Viognier.).
Some kind of Goat
Walked the ten or fifteen minutes back to the hotel, stopping to admire some kind of mountain goat penned in on a steeply sloped pasture next to the road. I say some kind of mountain goat because it was not a Rocky Mountain Bighorn Sheep; it looked like it belonged in The Sound of Music. It’s partner had been shorn, but this one was still shaggy. He was hoping we had something to eat that was not grass.