I woke up to a little creature stepping with needle-like precision all over my body. Chester, our once tiny kitten, now pained us with his elephant legs with every step he took on our fragile body. It was 4:30 in the morning. I got up to give him his wet food. Purr Chan is spoiled. I know.

Normally, I would go back to bed, but not today. Today we’re driving to the Olympic Peninsula to camp at Lake Crescent. It’s a 4 hrs drive that includes a short ferry (if you don’t have to wait in the often-crowded ferry lines, that is). Ugh… why am I doing this again? I thought to myself. 4:30 in the morning is the perfect time to start thinking about all the “responsibilities” adulthood crams down your throat: a looming presentation to the regulators the Monday after the trip, a delinquent book to put together, finances to put in order, house repairs to complete, mountains to climb, oceans to swim across, cheeseburgers to devour, and so on and so on.

Despite the lethargic start, we managed to get to the ferry in time to watch it leave the dock. Perfect timing. Luckily, we scored a sweet spot at the front of the line, which, as a consolation prize, felt oddly satisfying. 50 minutes later, we drove aboard the Spokane (name of the ferry) and off we went.

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