We head outta Eugene... well, we TRY to head out...

Dept. of Photo Ops due to getting lost:
Plaster sculpture Garden
Patrician Mobile Home Park






Dept. of It's a Sad Day When Gary Hobish is the Voice of Reason:
Gary is usually right (don't tell him)- so when he errs on the side of going 20 miles out of the way for the mythical $2.69 a gallon gas, well, we must give him shit. yes. BUT! then we saw the lovely sights we might have missed otherwise... yes.

Dept of misspellings:
Graffiti in the Key Stone cafe- "disexics untie" (yes I've heard that one, but perhaps it is funnier when it's "dyslexics untie"), and outside the Keystone Cafe a lonely piece of cardboard is inscribed with the enigmatic message- "Eugne..." Andrew & I decide with an umlaut it could be a Grateful Dead influenced Eugene Metal band... or not... In Salem we have a blurb in the paper which misspells the lyrics to Deliver Me (from SEAWORTHY) . The line: "the glamour in slavery is being chosen for delivery" is quoted as: "the grammar in slavery is being chosen for delivery..." HMMMM Iinteresting... it means something... but ? what? grammar is oppressive? well, I nevvver misxspell anythumg.

We have a nice mellowish set at the cafe in Salem and head out to Tacoma, beckoned by the comfy beds waiting for sleepers at Andrew and Heather's house. Around midnight we pass the gleaming seductive bridges and lights of Portland. Soon after we enter Washington State with its stylized George Washington-head-silouhettes with highway numbers notated where his brain would be if he were a living being. There are stars out, especially the big dipper. We pass the 45th Parallel & eventually we reach Tacoma.

and at last: we sleep.