I love Tacoma and while a long commute will probably doom any plans to settle there, I look forward to our many weekend trips there. With two years living in the great northwest tucked in our back pocket and more trips to Tacoma to count. It’s easy to appreciate the area’s laid back vibe and somewhat close proximity to our home. The problem, if you can call it one, with visiting any particular area is that you often find yourself visiting the same spots and doing the same things. And while repetition can often bring one temporary comfort, it can also produce torturous results. (Ever see the movie Groundhog Day? And while we did manage to include a couple of regular stops including High Voltage Records and Bluebeard Coffee, it was our breakfast at Marcia’s Silver Spoon Cafe and its industrial surroundings that really had us foaming at the mouth.
It goes without saying, that, as much as visiting those old comfortable might have it’s perks, the practice itself gets old rather quickly. So, instead of visiting the same places over and over again, try turning your chosen navigation app. off and let you natural sense of curiosity take over. Getting lost is often the best wsy to find yourself an adventure to remember. It can also net you a few more favorite places to go to.
One morning last week there came an authoritative knock on my door. On the other side of the door was a Viking helmet adorned neighbor blowing a horn declaring a day of action. Knowing the call of a Viking and the failure to properly follow Viking code full well. I followed him down to where the bikes, horses and Viking ships are docked. It had been a couple of years since I’d been on a a bike. (My last one, as well as every bike I’ve ever know has been stolen at one point or another.) Knowing full well my history as well as my recent battles with gravity. Said friend let me take a spin around the safely enclosed garage to help me get familiar. After a few twists, turns, crashes and fall downs. I was granted my own Viking helmet and we were off. And while our buildings surroundings aren’t very bike or hike friendly. A sturdy mountain bike and a seasoned leader more than get the job done.
After a short ride down the hill and a slight turn to the right. It seemed that we hit pay dirt. For that road led to all the things I love and enjoy both exploring and photographing. Trains, factories, train yards… You name it. The only thing missing was a junk yard with featuring an unchained rabid guard dog. I felt like a kid again. We hadn’t even made it half way to the end and I was already making reservations to return. After a few stops to take in the sites atop the railroad cars We took the road all the way to Secaucas before hitting what seemed to be the river of deceit.
After a break and a survey of the land we had discovered, conquered and thoroughly photographed. We headed back on the rocky path that brought us there. As time had passed I had become more and more comfortable with the slightly oversized bike. So much so that my buddy gave me his official thumbs up. Half way back, the days heat, coupled with my lack of balance began to take their toll. Like a good soldier, I kept the pace. Assuring myself that, once we get passed this rocky strip of road and onto solid pavement, I’m home free. Then, as soon as I hit solid ground. Every ounce of strength I had left gave out and I hit the pavement like a hundred and forty pound sack of wet bricks. Aside from a few bumps, bruises and damaged ego. I was fine. Though I ended up walking the bike the rest of the way home. The trip and the overall experience, as well as the opportunity to earn my very own Viking helmet, were more than worth the spilt blood. That weekend I returned, on foot of course, and did some more exploring as a solo act. I really love that the area we chose to live in offers such a diverse and colorful landscape.