Crampons and getting your style cramped on...

As expected the rain didn’t let up. If anything it worsened. I started changing and realized that I had forgotten my rain pants. Layers and layers of clothing, a rain jacket but no pants. I should know better. This had potential to be a very long day of standing in the rain. The students and instructors started arriving not long after, and luckily enough Kyle had an extra pair of rain pants and let me borrow them for the day.

Kyle, Mary Ann and I walked with our team to the lesson area. Our team consisted of six students who dubbed themselves Team Awesome. Rain continued through out the class but no one seemed to mind. We went through crampon techniques, ice axe techniques, self belays, team belays and self arresting. When we tied into ropes Team Awesome split into guy rope team and girl rope team. I went off with Awesome Guy Team in an effort to keep them on task and felt a little like I was wrangling giddy children. Not bad, just funny when you have to chase fast moving people uphill in snow. Overall, things went pretty nicely. No one injured themselves and we got out of there an hour and a half earlier than planned. Even Team Not-Awesome was on par with our pace and got done early.

You’d think rain gear would keep you totally dry but it doesn’t. Back at the car we all put on dry clothing and parted ways. The greatest things you can have for road tripping to the mountains are: snacks, headlamp, extra clothing, more clothing, rain gear, and adult after activity wipes… which some people call baby wipes. I cleaned up and contemplated my next move. We would be heading back towards Idaho tonight and wouldn’t return to the North Cascades until mid September. Since 21 hours of hanging in my favorite place isn’t nearly enough, I took my sweet time leaving. One stop at the Wake N Bakery for coffee, a stop at the Fuely for free internet and a bathroom break, a stop at Village Books for gathering important material, and a visit to the Colophon.

Hours later I was on the road and changing plans. I had intended on stopping in Seattle to say hi to Jim but with the delays in Bham, it was best for me to continue on. Unable to decide if I wanted to head home a different route, I changed my mind over and over until I found myself getting onto the 405. I’d drive the same way back. No need to get lost, or worse.

Not long after getting on 90 I noticed the car in the left lane acting oddly. I glanced over to see a 30 something year old guy waving crazily and saying that he wanted to talk to me. I didn’t hear it, but my minor lip reading skills helped me decipher his message.
He held his hand to his ear like a telephone, pointing from me to him and back, “Number?”
“No,” I kind of laughed at the absurdity.
He sped up and got in front of me and started driving slow enough that I went to pass him. By the way, he was swerving like a drunk and had a Moped in the trunk of his Ford Taurus. Jesus. He held a note up to the window as I drove by that read: Frank 206 549 something something. He thought I would actually call him! Are you kidding? I tried to lose him but couldn’t. My efforts would have felt like The Fast and the Furious but unfortunately the Element isn’t a fierce race car. It actually wasn’t anything like the movie because I couldn’t lose Frank, make him crash his car, or shoot out his tires. Damn it.

Over 100 miles later I was still being followed, at times with the note pressed against the window and other times with Frank smiling and waving and telling me to pull over. No way. This might have been slightly amusing if I wasn’t having the greatest time driving alone with Mango, which I was until this ass hole came along. Next time I will have to get one of those dummies that people put in their car so they can ride in the carpool lane or so they don’t get mugged.

At any rate, I was pissed. Not only was I now having to think about when I needed to get gas, I also had to think about how to get off the highway with out being followed by crazy. In not wanting to piss off a potential lunatic I kept my urge to flip him off at bay and got behind him. I slowed enough so that cars and trucks kept passing me and created a visual block, then I made my move towards the off ramp to Thorpe, WA (town of about 20 and lacking activity). Frank realized too late but I saw him pull into the shoulder so I continued on down the Thorpe Highway and hung out for about a half hour watching the sun set. When I returned to the on ramp for 90 I was happy to see that Frank the stalker had given up and driven on.

The rest of our drive was pretty tame in comparison. We snoozed, ate snacks, cruised along. Nothing too strange, but you better believe that I kept an eye out for anyone who was lurking around.