Monday, September 7, 2015

Northern Centurions: Better ask somebody

We started at 6am from Everett, in the dark. Fishermen and fisherladies were the only other people up and awake and high. First stop, Lake Cassidy for a Double Delicious joint after cruising through a dimly lit Snohomish. 
Coconut water. The shit. Low winds, temps in the 60s and then 70s. The leaves are green and still cling to their trees, but with the windy rain storm it feels like fall. 
 We headed to Arlington on the Centennial Trail, then over to Conway, up to Mount Vernon for another joint. After scoring, we lobbed ourselves across the Skagit plains to La Conner, where we ate pot candy and foods and drank beer. That was about 60 miles, and we mistakenly believed we were more than halfway 'round. It was not to be. Next we pushed into Stanwood, but traffic picked up, and instead of coasting into Marysville, and on into Everett, we scooted up the other side of the valley, and mobbed south on the ample shoulders of Highway 9 back into Arlington. The map showed an intersection with the Centennial Trail, but it was actually an overpass. We climbed down to the trail, no prob, lugging our bikes on our shoulders. By the time we got back to Snohomish I had bounced back from the nausea and lightheadedness. Euphoria bubbled up from my armpits. I might have lost my mind a little. We stopped for much needed snacks. Chocolate milk. Chocolate motherfucking milk, brah. 
Rangers at a park busted us for smoking pot and ran our IDs for warrants. No puffing in the park, they said. You're not my dad, I said. 
The car parked next to us got prowled. The owners stood around the pile of broken glass, sad. Nobody touched my hooptie. 122 miles, 9 hours in the saddle. 

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