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Adventure dog! Adventure DOOOOOGGGG!!!
Jul. 5th, 2002 11:57 pmKinda big, kinda strong, stupid as a log. Sung to the tune of..."Adventure Dog."
Today S and I were Adventure Dogs. We road-tripped over the mountains to Leavenworth for Sausage Fest. No, I am not making this up. It was the town's first-ever Sausage Fest, and I certainly have some constructive criticism if they would care to hear it:
1) It's not really a Sausage "Fest" if you only have one kind of sausage. I don't care if your sponsor gets his lederhosen in a twist; you have to have something besides bratwurst. Get some knocks, get some Polish. Once you've celebrated one bratwurst, you've pretty much celebrated them all.
2) It's a crime against nature to have Red Hook as your only beer choice. For the love of God, you have a perfectly wonderful brewpub RIGHT ON YOUR MAIN STREET. I've relegated Red Hook to the same generic level as Henry Weinhard and I won't drink either one.
3) Your town is supposed to be the Bavaria of the PNW. If you schedule live music for your Sausage Fest, it had better be oompah-pah. Country/western is not an acceptable substitute, even if it is the day after Independence Day. Keep your jingoist fervor to yourselves.
Except for these minor quibbles, we had a great time in Leavenworth. Because I am so relentlessly unemployed, I couldn't run screaming through the stores waving my Visa card. I spent only about $20, not including food and drink. There is one jewelry store that carries a few pieces of alexandrite, lab-created though it is, and I couldn't even pretend to consider spending the couple grand that a ring costs. Professional jewelry salespeople can smell poverty on you.
Speaking of dogs, I met an utterly charming creature at the town square gazebo. It looked kind of like a shiba inu and kind of like a fox terrier. I asked the owners what kind it was, and they said it was a Norwegian lundehund. They went on to say the dogs were used to creep up cliffs and go into caves where puffins nested, and they'd bring back puffins in their mouths. The owners showed off the dog's six-toed feet which help it better grip the rocks. I should have nodded sagely and said, "Ah, polydactyl!" but I forgot. I must warn anybody reading this that if you follow the link, you will fall in love with this strange, lovely animal. I'm sure puppies cost even more than alexandrite rings.
In the late afternoon, S kindly agreed to help me find a cool body of water so I could paddle my hot, tired, sore feet. We walked down to the river park where we were immediately assaulted by crack squadrons of Eastern Washington mosquitos. Within seconds we were covered by dozens of the filthy things. We ran toward a group of people on a bridge right over the river, thinking we could somehow offload our parasitic burden onto them. Instead, we inherited scores of new mosquitos, and so we fled back to town. Even my welts have welts. There is a kumquat-sized lump on my forearm, and I'm terrified to fall asleep because I don't know what's going to burst out of my arm.
We left in the evening, and my beloved S was determined that he would find me a stream, brook, creek, or rill where I could paddle my feet. He drove several miles out of our way to a campground with the perfect spot for paddling. Oh sure, there were mosquitos (probably the offspring of the ones that doubtless mated, gave birth, and died in my hair) and the water temperature was just above freezing. Nonetheless, I paddled like a fiend, seeing as how S went to so much trouble, until I could no longer feel my feet. Brisk! Refreshing!
Last time we went to Leavenworth it was for a long weekend in December with K & C and our friend L and her then-partner. It was colder than a well-digger's ass in the Klondike, and the town was filled with hundreds, maybe thousands, of people who came over on buses just for the day. Quite a difference. I can't relate our adventures from that trip because I'm not sure about the statute of limitations on a couple of things.
Today S and I were Adventure Dogs. We road-tripped over the mountains to Leavenworth for Sausage Fest. No, I am not making this up. It was the town's first-ever Sausage Fest, and I certainly have some constructive criticism if they would care to hear it:
1) It's not really a Sausage "Fest" if you only have one kind of sausage. I don't care if your sponsor gets his lederhosen in a twist; you have to have something besides bratwurst. Get some knocks, get some Polish. Once you've celebrated one bratwurst, you've pretty much celebrated them all.
2) It's a crime against nature to have Red Hook as your only beer choice. For the love of God, you have a perfectly wonderful brewpub RIGHT ON YOUR MAIN STREET. I've relegated Red Hook to the same generic level as Henry Weinhard and I won't drink either one.
3) Your town is supposed to be the Bavaria of the PNW. If you schedule live music for your Sausage Fest, it had better be oompah-pah. Country/western is not an acceptable substitute, even if it is the day after Independence Day. Keep your jingoist fervor to yourselves.
Except for these minor quibbles, we had a great time in Leavenworth. Because I am so relentlessly unemployed, I couldn't run screaming through the stores waving my Visa card. I spent only about $20, not including food and drink. There is one jewelry store that carries a few pieces of alexandrite, lab-created though it is, and I couldn't even pretend to consider spending the couple grand that a ring costs. Professional jewelry salespeople can smell poverty on you.
Speaking of dogs, I met an utterly charming creature at the town square gazebo. It looked kind of like a shiba inu and kind of like a fox terrier. I asked the owners what kind it was, and they said it was a Norwegian lundehund. They went on to say the dogs were used to creep up cliffs and go into caves where puffins nested, and they'd bring back puffins in their mouths. The owners showed off the dog's six-toed feet which help it better grip the rocks. I should have nodded sagely and said, "Ah, polydactyl!" but I forgot. I must warn anybody reading this that if you follow the link, you will fall in love with this strange, lovely animal. I'm sure puppies cost even more than alexandrite rings.
In the late afternoon, S kindly agreed to help me find a cool body of water so I could paddle my hot, tired, sore feet. We walked down to the river park where we were immediately assaulted by crack squadrons of Eastern Washington mosquitos. Within seconds we were covered by dozens of the filthy things. We ran toward a group of people on a bridge right over the river, thinking we could somehow offload our parasitic burden onto them. Instead, we inherited scores of new mosquitos, and so we fled back to town. Even my welts have welts. There is a kumquat-sized lump on my forearm, and I'm terrified to fall asleep because I don't know what's going to burst out of my arm.
We left in the evening, and my beloved S was determined that he would find me a stream, brook, creek, or rill where I could paddle my feet. He drove several miles out of our way to a campground with the perfect spot for paddling. Oh sure, there were mosquitos (probably the offspring of the ones that doubtless mated, gave birth, and died in my hair) and the water temperature was just above freezing. Nonetheless, I paddled like a fiend, seeing as how S went to so much trouble, until I could no longer feel my feet. Brisk! Refreshing!
Last time we went to Leavenworth it was for a long weekend in December with K & C and our friend L and her then-partner. It was colder than a well-digger's ass in the Klondike, and the town was filled with hundreds, maybe thousands, of people who came over on buses just for the day. Quite a difference. I can't relate our adventures from that trip because I'm not sure about the statute of limitations on a couple of things.
