Washington State - The car we were riding in took multiple turns in the Washington state peninsula until we pulled up and made camp on Deer Bay, off a river in Clallam County. We were 14 or so—disparate, conscientious interns at the public defender’s office spending a summer interviewing witnesses to crimes to assist Seattle’s public defenders. For our free labor, this trip was a reward the office provided. Marianne, our super competent case supervisor, came along to take care of us—and to herd us around like young cattle. We were, in fact, young.
Marianne organized all details for the Seattle to Deer Bay trip. We camped only one night. The story told around the campfire that night was that a prison was located nearby in Clallam Bay. I thought it appropriate and fascinating to have a prison hiding out in that craggy peninsula. The titillation of the evening came in deciding who would be sharing tents with whom since not all came with equipment. Marianne asked for volunteers. I volunteered to share with Barbara. Barbara had a gravelly voice and she didn’t seem to me to have grown out of the awkwardness of youth. Somewhere in my own timeline, I was an awkward Barbara. There was no titallation in our tent. Barbara slept and did not snore thankfully.
The campfire was unspectacular, the food unmemorable. The diversion was Joe. Joe was an intern with plans for graduate school. He was bound for Syracuse University to study poetry. He had big, red hair, very poet-like. He was cool. He brought out his guitar around the fire and drummed up songs that sounded made on the fly—and sang them late into the night. (With Marianne in tow, we had no beer but only our wits to entertain us.) Marianne bellowed from her tent for us to quite down throughout the evening. She was kind and firm: “Quiet Down” eventually became “Shut Up, you guys!” All through the night, commotion and murmurs came from us cattle and from our tents. Marianne didn’t emerge from her hideaway but threats streamed from her tent into the air. Barbara, my tent-mate, slept right through the revelry.
Eventually, we quieted down and went to bed. We de-camped the following morning. We passed a sign to Clallam Bay. A visit to the prison would have capped off the trip I thought. But it didn't happened.
photo by Adkinn. Creative Commons License.
http://flickr.com/photos/adamkinney/2530703498/in/set-72157605295626094/
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