I've been in Washington for a good, healthy week. It's nice to be able to explore the cities I've heard about, and be in the silence of the forest. Yesterday was spent on Anderson Island, off the Puget Sound near Tacoma. After a relaxing evening, the owner of the cabin took Ivan, Travis and I out for some island initiation. To be honest, I had no idea what this might consist of, but I did remember committing to something of a ghost hunt earlier in the night.

We began the tour at the smaller than small elementary school, where Heather, our tour guide, attended her first years of education. After a bout with a tire swing, we were headed to our next location, the old Anderson house. Its dilapidated path had been recently replaced by a gravel road, but I don't believe that deterred from the irksome feeling the house has always instilled. We went a little further down the road to a haunted horse ranch, but decided to go further still, a little up the road to a barn whose second floor had caved in. All the while listening to ghostly stories from our other tour guide and photographer, Scot. The house, not far from the barn, was much more eerie than the first, and after the trek through the fields, we were ready to go back.

My brevity can hardly explain all of the feelings experienced on this trip, but I can assure you, there were some weird feelings. We capped off the night with a swim in one of the Island's small lakes, a couple jumps off the dock, and a sandy return to Heather's car. As we prepared for bed, Heather made some Top Ramen, in a style reminiscent of her Grandmother, to whom the cabin once belonged.





And now to step back and view my past few days as a whole. While we're still in Washington, the idea of tour has been a very good one. The van has already become a comfort place of sorts, containing what little food we brought, and all our clothes for the coming month and some change.