Flight Out

This is the first flight where I ever experience a strange, floaty light-headedness that makes you question your life choices. Thankfully, the Southwest flight attendants are absolute pros and keep us laughing with their jokes, which helps considerably.

Jeremy spends most of the flight in blissful silence, absorbed in his DS. I read The Grapes of Wrath, periodically interrupting his game to show him particularly funny excerpts, because love means forcing someone to appreciate Steinbeck against their will.

As the flight nears its end, Jeremy rests his head on my shoulder. I rest mine on his, and we nap like that for a while—content, slightly crumpled, and very much at peace. When we wake, the window reveals a massive mountain rising up out of the clouds, which we decide must be Mount Rainier. It feels like a proper welcome.

Landing in Washington

We deplane, collect our suitcases from the carousel, and board the shuttle to the rental car pickup. This is my first time renting a car—well, sort of. The rental goes under Jeremy’s name, since I am not yet 26 and apparently still considered a liability.

We end up with a special birthday upgrade: a white Mercedes-Benz GLA250. An SUV. Naturally.

We drive to our hotel, which looks like a nice apartment building from the outside, but inside is warm, welcoming, and thoughtfully decorated. After unpacking, we head straight for Snoqualmie Falls—making a necessary and non-negotiable stop at Wendy’s along the way, because I am starving and this journey will not continue without fries.

Snoqualmie

We arrive in Snoqualmie, Washington and go straight to the falls. They are stunning—powerful and calm all at once, the water below pooling like a lagoon from some other, quieter world.

The name Snoqualmie comes from a Salish word meaning “moon,” which feels fitting. Everything here seems touched by something ancient and gentle.

We head into historic downtown Snoqualmie in search of a real dinner. The town has one main road, and we walk along it slowly, marveling at how charming and perfectly small it is. We duck into a candy store, but wisely decide to eat before committing to sugar and regret.

Dinner is at Gianfranco Ristorante Italiano. Jeremy orders the spaghetti di mari; I choose the pollo boscaiola. Everything is delicious, and we arrived just in time—we watch several hopeful couples get turned away due to lack of space whilst downing our delicious entrees. A small victory.

After dinner, we walk hand in hand back through town. An old train station—now a museum—is closed, but further down the road we find a collection of vintage train cars and engines. One features an enormous tree trunk, which we immediately nickname the “big-ass tree” and pose in front of, because maturity is optional.

We continue down the path, settle into a softly lit gazebo, and cuddle together in the cool night air. Eventually, we make our way back to the hotel, stopping at Safeway to stock up on snacks for our upcoming road trips to national parks—fuel for adventures yet to come.