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Unlike our voyage, this shot of I-5 shows almost no traffic. Photo courtesy of (taylor) from the Seattlest Flickr Pool.
I-5 southbound is a bore out of Seattle. After twenty minutes we reach Wild Waves or Enchanted Village or whatever the only water park in the area calls itself these days. In forty-degree weather, the sight of the rides gives us shivers as we wonder how the place can afford to stay in business with only attractive twelve calendar days a year.
Soon the billboards lining the highway take on a neon, blinking quality, which can mean only one thing: Tacoma is fast approaching. As we crawl through the inexplicable midday Tacoma traffic jam, we realize if this city really wanted to be taken seriously, they would have discovered carpool lanes by now. We’re fairly convinced Tacoma is content being the mini-Baltimore of the West Coast, with its industrial grit and mini-skyline that rivals the mall at Redmond Town Center.
South of Tacoma we reach Lakewood: If you’ve never been there you might recognize it as a frequent player on COPS. There’s just something about towns that border huge military installations that promotes heavy drinking and Camaros, but we haven’t pinned it down yet.
Eventually we crawl out of Fort Lewis’ grip and creep up on the state Capitol. From the interstate we see the massive brown dome. We realize budgets are tight but can’t help but wonder if the dome was last pressure washed during the Lowry or Locke administration.
Beyond Olympia is a monstrosity called the "Great Wolf Lodge." It looks like the Tulalip Indian Casino mated with Wild Waves and created a massive tourist destination so lazy they built it right on the interstate--ideally situated for companies and families that feel compelled to take a retreat but refuse to spare more than the minimal thought and time. You can practically check into your room from the shoulder. If this is the future of American getaways, we might as well level Mt. Rainier now and get it out of the way.
Speaking of huge volcanoes, we know Mt. Rainier is down here somewhere, but we can’t remember ever actually seeing it from the road. This trip is no different, as thin tree strands and gray perma-haze block the view in most directions. We find amusement in the funny Native American names of the rivers we pass (Skookumchuck?), calling to mind the land’s former occupants and promising tax-free cigarette havens just off an exit.
We pass the big, right-wing billboard that exists solely for the purpose of pissing off passing liberals with minimal fanfare. A whiny rant about taxes is listed on the southbound side. We can’t help but think the guy behind it probably wishes he could just kill everybody that disagrees with him, but we have no way to prove it.
South of the Cowlitz--a big river that’s been prone to destructive flooding here since the last Ice Age or just recently if you’re a developer--lies one of I-5’s hidden gems; Papa Pete’s Pizza, right off the first Castle Rock (Wrastle Cock if you grew up there) exit on the lefthand side of the freeway. Almost as delightful as the pizza's crust itself is the rural teenager’s interpretation of pseudo-punk style on display in the kitchen. The skinny pants, the studded belts, the corny, swept man-bangs--all lead ultimately to the unshakable sense that we are very far from anything hip.
Eventually we veer right onto some small highway that takes us to the timber graveyard that is Longview, the last stretch of Washington you can touch before crossing state lines if you want to avoid Portland. After a few twists and turns we begin to climb over the massive Columbia. Far below, acres of dead trees serve as a harsh greeting to the unsuspecting Oregonians coming from the other direction: "Welcome to Washington--We Kill the Nature that Doesn’t Kill Us First."
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YES!
Worst drive ever. Srsly.
I don't know if it's worse. Pretty sure once you get past Grant's Pass, it's shit-fuck-storm-balls-city
Maybe if the state let grafitti artists create wall art along the corridor it would at least give it some real color!