Friday, April 1, 2016

Nursed

When, at the lakeside pre-funk, already made charming by cold beers and warm sunshine, a guy glides to the dock on a stand-up paddleboard with what at first appears to be a small dog behind him but which, upon further investigation, turns out to be a pet chicken, (that being, as tehSchkott pointed out, so much better in every way), you can reliably conclude that the evening already counts as a success. 

From there on out, you’re playing with house money so to speak.

And when the ride starts by going to Harborview, except that, for a change, not because somebody needs to be patched up or put back together, but rather, simply to enjoy a view that features silhouette mountains, pink cotton candy clouds, and the occasional “M”-shaped seagull circling lazily on the horizon, you know you’ve hit the jackpot.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t even necessary to make a U-turn back to the hospital after bombing down the Hipster Highway and skidding over gravel and fist-sized rocks through the Jungle trail; everyone emerged relatively unscathed, if somewhat muddied in certain cases.

As we waited beneath the highway for the straggling and cautious to arrive, I said to Fred, “Well, that was fun;” and he replied, “Yes, and it’s going to get funner!” and lo and behold, he was right, especially if your idea of fun is riding straight up the side West Seattle in order to twist and turn through the woods all the way down to the beach.

The barbecue grill fire was plenty big enough to warm the assembled on such a mild spring evening and even if it launched an ember that burned a washer-sized hole in the shoulder of a particularly-beloved old shirt, you happily chalk it up to the price of admission.

After all, that’s the bitter that makes the sweetness sweeter, like how it’s sad your favorite Nurse is leaving town; but how happy is a ride commemorating the ensuing departure.

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