Saturday - July 15, 2006

We awoke early (but not as early as Friday) and drove to Portland, searching for a restored Signal gas station I'd spotted on the web while planning this trip. While I'm hardly an aficionado of petrolina, I'm a sucker for art deco architecture, and the ray gun spire of this station looks like something out of a thirties-era pulp comic. The gas station was been transformed into a pizza place, but the station still boasts lovely restored pumps, glowing neon strips, and a terrific sign. Even if the compromise of preservation and transformation sends purists into spasms, the Signal Station is still pretty special. We took some photos and wished that we'd gotten here a bit later to try that pizza. Seeking a shortcut back to the interstate, we got lost again amidst a maze of train yards and industrial strips. But the morning was crisp and the traffic was light. Reassuring Vienna (myself, really) that I was "following my instincts," I managed to find my way back on the superslab despite spiraling further and further away the path that led us here. At last we found the mystical onramp. After setting the cruise we followed the winding interstate to Seattle. All the while, we hoped the clouds that covered the sky might break a little. Sure, the Pacific Northwest is known for dismal weather, but it would be nice if we could get a little sunlight in Seattle. Happily, the road trip gods were merciful and the skies over the city broke open into a perfect blue.

After navigating downtown Seattle's multitudes of overpasses, we easily found Seattle Center and the Space Needle. The park boasts plentiful parking at a reasonable price (between four and five bucks for a limitless stop). Since we had visited the Space Needle before (now, that's an expensive elevator ride!), we opted instead to tour the Science Fiction Museum located in the Frank Gehry designed building nearby. Being confirmed nerds, we got a real kick out of a museum dedicated to books, movies, and personalities associated with sci-fi. My favorite part was the video spacedock that depicts animated spacecraft from all sorts of movies, including the Mothership from Close Encounters of the Third Kind and a Star Destroyer from Star Wars. I was also entranced at the video display of various "cities of the future" that included Blade Runner and The Matrix. Vienna focused her attention on various science fiction authors, studying how they evolved their art form and managed to account for social changes over the past 150 years. She also dug the art gallery. Her only disappointment: the museum didn't feature nearly enough exhibits dedicated to Doctor Who.

After a couple of hours, we returned to the Seattle Park and grabbed some ice cream. We felt alert and rested, so we figured we would easily make Spokane and get a much less pricy motel room. Opting for I-90 instead of the somewhat slower US-2, we reached our destination by sunset. I suddenly discovered a desire to snap a picture of the giant Radio Flyer red wagon on the site of the 1974 Expo. We'd visited before, but another picture might make a swell souvenir for this trip. Unfortunately, our map led us to the train yards - again - and nightfall convinced us that the Radio Flyer could wait for another day. Of course, by this point, all the motels were booked with tourists who'd arrived earlier. So we decided to grab dinner and survey our options. With no particular plan, we managed to find a really cool diner in a converted Pullman Train. Inside, along one side of the train car, the owners had created a series of diorama displays that included a particularly creepy fellow whose spacey smile (lower right) resulted in shivers for days afterward. The highlight of the evening was a cherry cobbler covered in ice cream served for one but enough for two.

We were convinced that we'd find cheap accommodations on the town's outskirts. But as the two-lane road led us into the night, our options quickly dwindled. Crossing into Idaho along US-2, we found no vacancies amid the no-stoplight towns that had already rolled up their sidewalks. Larger places like Sandpoint were either booked or pricier than our budget would tolerate. But as the iPod played some of my relentlessly depressing (as Jenny reviews it) "night travel" playlist, we agreed we must stop soon. Admitting our exhaustion, we began searching for a place to pull over. Sleeping in the car can be no fun, but we could not drive one more mile. Once more, I began muttering about "instinct" as we looked for a place that was lighted but not too lighted - near the road, but tucked away as well. Before long, we found a parking lot and slipped behind a huge vehicle that blocked the view from the road. The place seemed like some industrial site with its huge gangly pieces of equipment and scattered boxes. Nearby, folks slumbered in their comfy beds as we tucked ourselves into sheets and the pillows we decided at the last minute to pack. Our spot seemed basically safe, but we still heard every bump of noise around. The traffic diminished and then seemed to stop altogether. I covered the blinking "security" light on the car's dashboard and drifted fitfully to sleep.