In a not so rare wild hair trip, I took off last Friday to the Pacific Northwest. Snow had been falling in every state except Florida. It was cold everywhere and no one was really enjoying it. So, within 24 hours of making the decision, I was walking on the very Northwest most point of the United States, peering across the Strait of juan de Fuca and into Canada's Vancouver Island. Sunny weather is always fleeting in the Northwest, especially this time of year. It rained, the sun came out for a bit, and it snowed on the beach. All in all, it was a prompt and affordable trip. I had to buy a coat at Walmart in Aberdeen, Washington because I left mine in the truck back home. It was a logging town and I got hit on by everyone, gender non-specific, including a 14 year old gothic girl with sequin pants. I had three good mishaps, none of which resulted in a calamity. As you know, texting while driving increases your likelihood of having an accident by 2300%. I very nearly rolled the bitch in a soft and muddy ditch. And had I not been so well blessed as a tactical driver, my pirouette on the black ice might have resulted in a grazing of the rock cliff. And last, I spied a wet bog. It was filled with deep cold water and slimy fallen logs. Remember, drift logs kill! So too was I on a remote and seldom traveled logging road not within cell phone service. Had I fallen, I might still be there. But, I successfully traversed the bog afoot on the slimy logs and got a few nice pictures. I was a little wet afterward. Needless to say, I have returned home safely with yet another adventure notched into my pistol grip.