exposed cerebral cortex of a proletariat bike slut

Yesterday was the absolute best day of summer.

The night before (two nights ago), around 2 am: rain began to POUND the streets of Bellingham.  I sat happily in my coffee stand, reading “a thousand spledid suns.”  I hoped the rain would dissipate by the next day, when Dylan and I were going to hike Baker, but wasn’t worried. That’s what REI is for right? gortex and I’d be ready to go, storm or not.

An hour later, who should show up drenched at the window…but Dylan.  Just making sure that we were still going.  I made him hot chocolate and we chatted for an hour, excited for the 70 mile excursion up into the alpines.

The trail was fucking out of this world.  Four miles up to the lake, through winding forests and aerial rock thoroughfare.  The sunlight was streaming through the late afternoon fog as we labored up the steep mountainside, joking and talking amiably.  Turning one of the final corners, I looked up to see a guy that had picked up Katt and I when we hitchhiked last quarter…small world.  Finally (and thank god the lake appeared, because I was about to die), we reached the apex and skipped down the rocks to the edge of the lake.   

The four mile trek back, I realized how incredibly happy I have become.  I don’t know how I was lucky enough to stumble into an amazing, tight knit group of friends as a transfer student to western.  Well, actually I do- that’s the one awesome thing gleened from selling cars, I guess. Or trying to sell cars to handsome men, which leads to dinner, sultry summers, and entry into their social circle.   

After the hike, we drove lazily down the Mount Baker highway to one of my favorite local spots: the notorious Beer Shrine.  Salmon pizza and caesar salad, and again running into Nick from last quarter and discussing rad hiking spots.

After work, Dylan came over again to hot tub and drink champagne and ended up falling asleep next to me while we watched a movie.  We both slept curled up on an end of my bed, with my laptop between us.  Which was actually more comfortable than it sounds, surprisingly.  Next week we’re hitting up the trails at galbraith- mmm mountain biking.

I am so enamored with Bellingham.