So on Tuesday morning, we get up early. Way early. Butt-crack of dawn early, Oh-Dark-Fuck early. I'm sure you get the picture. Me, lately I'm up almost that early naturally; Amanda and Tony, not so much. But we have to be dressed, out the door, and on the road by 6:15 because we have to have Amanda at the Greyhound Station in Tacoma (30 miles north on I-5, past 2 military installations and the accompanying traffic) by 7 a.m. The ticket information tells us that she has to be at the terminal an hour before the bus leaves, which is scheduled for 8 a.m. What the ticket information doesn't tell us is that the bus terminal does not open until 7:30 a.m. We discovered that on arrival, but I'll get there.
As I was saying, we're up and roaming the earth early on Tuesday morning. I'm drinking lots of coffee, which is normal for me, and freaking out a little. And the freaking out I feel is understandable. My oldest child is leaving today, and this is basically the first step toward her being on her own permanently. I thought I was prepared, but I found out that I wasn't. I don't think it's possible to be fully prepared for the chicks leaving the nest, but anyway. Part of why I'm freaking out, besides Amanda leaving me, is that she has to take a Greyhound bus over a mountain pass to Eastern Washington. And on Monday night while we're watching Studio 60, the news teaser guys are out at Snoqualmie Pass showing how bad the conditions are because it's snowing really a lot up there. Generally, I'm a pretty "tra-la-la" kind of person, assuming that things will work out as they're supposed to, but when it comes to one of my babies traveling, I want dry safe roadways. So I'm drinking my coffee and freaking out a bit, but I'm under control.
Mom is joining us on our trip to Tacoma to see Amanda off onto this adventure, which is nice. So she arrives, everybody makes one last pit stop in the bathroom, we get the bags in the car, and we're on the road at approximately 6:18. Traffic up past Fort Lewis and McChord AFB wasn't all that bad, so we made decent time getting to the point where we leave the freeway and head into Tacoma. We get slightly lost because the directions weren't great, but we make it to the bus depot at 7:05, get a prime parking spot, and then, naturally, discover that she can't even go in for another 25 minutes because they don't open until 7:30. By this time, I need to go to the bathroom in the worst way, and Tony's starving because he rolled off the couch at 6:10 and didn't eat breakfast. It's chilly so we troop back to the car and wait.
Finally the lights inside go on, and from where I'm sitting we can see the employees unlock the door. We regather the bags and head on in. First things first, I get the bathroom key and make my pit stop. Much better. Amanda checks in and gets the baggage tickets for her bags and we go into the waiting area. Like the airport, it says it's for ticketed passengers only, but unlike the airport, there's no security to go through, so we go and sit and wait. A Greyhoud station is a fascinating place. This one was clean, which is always nice, but it's interesting to see who's taking the bus, and trying to figure out where they're headed. At this station, the buses go either north toward Seattle or south toward Portland, and then they go to points east if that where you're headed, and realistically, we live in Western Washington, there aren't a lot of points west that you can get to on a bus.
Turns out that the southbound bus is late by about an hour, but the northbound bus shows up on time. That's the one Amanda is getting on. The bus driver comes in and tells us he's going north to Seattle and then from there further north to Everett and then turning and heading east toward Wenatchee and then to Moses Lake, which is where Amanda's heading. So we know that she doesn't have to changes buses, which is kind of nice. But we find out that she's not going over Snoqualmie pass which is I-90; she's going over Stevens pass, which is US-2. A smaller, less-traveled route that is closed slightly more often in the winter. I begin to worry a bit more.We get Amanda on the bus, and Tony and I manage not to cry. I'm sure it's because mom is there, silently reminding us of our British heritage (stiff upper lip and all). The three of us get back into the car and start to head back home. I turn on the radio, and what do I hear but that Stevens pass has been closed since 7 a.m. for avalanche control (the intentional triggering of avalanches and then subsequent clean-up) and they "hope" to have it open again by 10 a.m. I'm a silent wreck by now with a very stiff upper lip.
Tony's hungry, and I decide to get a bit further down the road to avoid all the early day Tacoma traffic. We head for Lakewood which is a bit south of Tacoma. In my heart of hearts, I know we'll find a McDonald's there, and since that's what he wants, that's where I point the car. Unfortunately for me, my memory of Bridgeport Way through Lakewood isn't great, because we pass all the way through Lakewood well into University Place before we see a McDonald's. Which is in the same shopping center as the closest Trader Joe's to me, but I can't make a TJ's run because it's too early in the day for them to be open (plus I need to wait until payday). So I sit and eat my sausage burritos in the McDonald's parking lot, looking at Trader Joe's and thinking of all the good things that are inside that I can't have. I finish eating first, and since I'm driving, we get back on the road while mom and Tony finish up their breakfast.
The drive home was uneventful. We'd all been fed, and mom was recaffeinated with more coffee. Tony napped in the back seat, and I wished to myself that I knew of a way to get from Lakewood to Steilacoom or DuPont without being on the freeway. I know a way exists, and I'm going to find it. That part of I-5 near the military stuff is so depressing; strip malls full of dry cleaners, nail salons, check cashing places, tattoo parlors (not that there's anything wrong with that) and the like. If you've ever been on the closest highway to an military base, you'd recognize the kinds of businesses that thrive near the gates, and sometimes it's nice to get away from the sameness of it all.
After arriving home, I, like the good worker that I am, sat down to work. Of course, being me, I found out that the WSDOT (Washington state department of transportation) has a live camera at the summit of Stevens pass, so I hit the old ALT-tab a lot to go back and forth between work and looking at the pass. Bad idea. It was not pretty up there. Finally, Amanda called me just before 2 p.m. She'd been due to get to Wenatchee at 12:55, but I had a feeling they'd be late. When she called, they were over the pass and just outside Wenatchee. I was so relieved she'd made it over the pass that it was kind of like someone left the air out of me. I was deflated and essentially useless. Which is what I told my supervisor, and I actually ended up needing the rest of the day off.
Later on, I had a margarita with dinner and a glass of wine when I got home, and I felt MUCH better. But alcohol is not the solution. It's just a small part of it.
CURRENTLY READING: Portrait in Death by J. D. Robb
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