28 HOURS IN DAYTON

Due to some friends seeking their future in the rural back of beyonds, and my loving them in spite of it, this last weekend found me in the among the burning embers of Dayton. That would be the somewhat lesser known Dayton, WA, population 2,700.

Wildfire season is not being kind to this little agrarian corner of Washington state, so despite the peaceful nature of the quaint town (though I’ve been told it claims citydom) it felt a little more like I’d spent two days in a bar pre-ban instead of the pollution free air one comes to expect when you venture so far off the freeway.

The trip didn’t start out quite as planned, though it’s not like I didn’t expect morning to come hard when I went out to see a friends band the night before. Nursing a well earned hangover, I was rather proud of making it from consciousness to highway speeds within 30 minutes. Downtown is so peaceful at 8 am Saturday morning, it was with a slight pang I sped past it unimpeded by traffic.

It was in North Bend I made the rude discovery that one can’t get a Big Mac at 9 AM. I was tempted to debate this travesty with the squeaky voiced window boy, but as this appeared to be the most efficient McD’s I’ve every seen, they were quick to appease me with a handful of additional hash browns to keep me from tying up their system and messing with fulfillment minutes. Duly noted for the future.

While I didn’t get to see any actual blazes, and only occasional glimpses of firefighters, the sky started looking hazy by the time I reached Othello (mid way there).

The dual purpose of the trip was for my best girlfriend’s birthday/housewarming, and it seemed to be successful on both sides. I thought I was rolling in a bit late, but I was actually first to arrive and get the grand tour. I had seen their little chunk of equity a couple months ago when I signed on for a laborious weekend of ceiling painting (two story vaulted, and I just don’t want to talk about it) and they have worked absolute wonders. It is adorable, and can imagine being deliriously happy enjoying a home of one’s own, until the nagging realization that the nearest decent sushi spot was at least four hours away. The color scheme is creative and warm, and it’s a perfect space for two people.

Other party members arrived throughout the day. Snacks were everywhere, and drinks were almost magically refilled, making it an ideal way to pass a hot afternoon avoiding the sun. My eyes started tearing up from the smoke, but some drops more or less cleared that up.

For dinner we ventured all the way to Waitsburg (nine miles) to the WhoopemUp Café, and it was awesome. The mushroom soup was almost literally orgasmic. So good. If I hadn’t already ordered what turned out to be a smashing entree, I would have requested they just roll the whole pot out to me.

By Sunday morning the smoked had rolled in thickly again, and the sense that I was camping nearly a badly maintained fire was. We rolled on down to an odd A frame shaped diner for the most delightful greasy breakfast. I went with the special hash browns with gravy. It’s the ham that makes it special. So greasy, with minimal nutritional value, and hit the spot perfectly.

At 4 pm I was doing my best not speed excessively on the way home. It’s at least 4.5 hours door to door, avoiding stops, and for an activity that involves no actual activity, it’s quite a draining drive.

So my weekend consisted of a lot of driving, good friends, fun conversation, delicious food and plenty of drinks. Not a bad way to start wrapping up summer.