Yesterday’s itch to get out and stretch the legs was answered by a call to meet a local fisher out on the Olympic Peninsula. He’s involved with a regional fly shop and had first called and said he was coming off the OP with an ill client and would meet me in Aberdeen. Improving weather and river flows continuing to drop after the peak late last week prompted him to call later and say that he was headed back up to Forks to meet another client group out of Seattle.
I said it wouldn’t be any trouble at all to head on up to Forks, the drive along the western side of the OP being what it is. The sun even obliged me and came out as I was scooting along the stretch where 101 pretty much runs right down the coast. There are some really sweet views from the cliffs….
Said fisher and I chatted a bit in the parking lot of one of the fine dining establishments in Forks, then he headed off with his (somewhat prissy) Seattle clients once they arrived about 20 minutes later.
Needing gas, I whipped into a station there on main street, steeled my jaw at the price, pumped my gas and wandered inside for some refreshment.
I found myself waiting to pay out behind two burly gals, bulging in all the wrong places, each carrying a cube of Keystone Light and buckets of gas station fried chicken. They smoozed a bit with the gal behind the counter (a cousin it appears) and wandered out ahead of me; when I came out they had spread their fare on the hood of their pickup (parked at a gas pump) and were going to town on the chicken.
Spying the Montana plate on my truck, one of the pair, now sporting a ultra-long cigarette dangling from her lips, opened a conversation as follows….
Burly Gal 1: So you from Montana?
Me: (Looking around)…Yep.
Burly Gal 1: Fxxx’n rednecks in Montana chased the bigfoot out of there.
Me: Really? No way.
Burly Gal 2: You a fxxx’n redneck?
Me: (Cue long pause)…Sometimes.
Burly Gal 1: I been to Montana…partied my ass off in Missouler once. Fxxx’n rednecks over there can sure party.
Me: Nice.
Burly Gal 2: You seen a bigfoot, Montana boy?
Me: (Fighting the urge to ask if sasquatch females considered fried chicken a delicacy)…Nope. Just missed Elvis at a gas station in Bozeman a few years ago and have seen lights in the skies over the Gallatins and Yellowstone that are damned weird. No bigfoot yet though….
Burly Gal 1: Keep lookin’ bub, keep lookin’. Wanna beer?
I thanked them both for their hospitality and kind offer and headed down the road; obviously there’s a lot to learn about the new neighborhood.
