Look closely, that's a deer feeding in my brother's backyard.
Stephanie scanning the Olympic Mountains from Hurricane Ridge.
This is the architecture of Victoria. It is somehow lost in time, eh?
Our host and hostess at lunch down on Victoria's harbor.
And a beautiful harbor it is.
I spy a good-looking blonde in a red Maine sweatshirt down in the plaza.
Ah, but she's not alone. There is a trio of touristas, along with one of 50,000 college students in Victoria.
Down the alley, left at the umbrella. One of many restaurants tucked in every nook and cranny of Victoria.
This was the highlight of the trip. Just for grins, it's pronounced "Boo-Shart".
Beautiful, even in the off-season.
Yeah, this is pretty but not spectacular. Winding up a path, we make a turn, and....
Wow.
I hope you can read this.
What a bored wife can do with an old limestone quarry should be an inspiration to us all.
The dancing fountain.
Now that's a hedge! It sits at the entrance to the Italian gardens. No, that's not popcorn that Steffi's holding.
The Italian Gardens
"This is about right", said the testosterone-laden man.
Many a baron and royal travelled into this cove to visit the Butcharts.
A welcome rest.
Muggers.
Next day. Tea at a famous tea room and then off to sightsee.
In honor of the Canuck Navy.
The Royal Museum of British Columbia had a great natural history section. We sneaked away for an IMAX film later that morning.
This sealed the deal.
Craigdorrach Castle (pronounced "Kreg-Derrick"). Another baron's monument to himself. He didn't live to see it complete.
On the ferry ride from Victoria through the San Juan Islands, we stop at Friday Harbor.
Back in Port Angeles. "You're throwing a party for little ole us?"
A local musician, Tom, my brother on guitar and me with the clap, entertain the troops.
What would a trip to the great Northwest be without visiting Aunt Demi and getting beaten by her ever-changing rules at cards.
Entering the Makah Indian Reservation
Heading toward Cape Flattery.
Steffi takes a brief rest on our hike in the crook of a baby cedar tree.
This is the northwestern-most point in the continental United States. Steffi couldn't resist climbing to the very tip and looking 75 feet below at the crashing surf.
Here she is, ready to push me into the surf.
All around, the ocean has carved caves into the limestone cliffs.
Now to Lake Crescent, nestled in the Olympic Mountains, in the offseason.
Pretty, eh?
Last leg. In Seattle, we marvel at the liberal policies of the Transit Authority. That's a Rottweiler puppy.
That's right. Who can resist?
A lovely lesbian couple offered to take this at the observation deck.
Looking Southeast, if you could see 3,000 miles, you could see the Atlanta Skyline.
A strange fellow waits for the monorail to take him into downtown Seattle.
The Last Supper. Brought out in a giant stainless bowl, we eat at the Crab Pot on the water in Seattle.The flight was awful and never, ever fly anything other than non-stop to Seattle.
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