The monkey loves to ride. He doesn't like to ride tied to the back cushion so much but he loves to ride. We tried something new...between the windshields. As you can see the view is noticeably better (no enabler butt) however riding above the windshield can force feed bugs down ones throat. (I figure he's got to eat anyway and the bugs are free....but nooooo.... he no likey.) Rotten high maintenance vegetarian monkey. Back to the rear view lash down with you.
We're out the door at 8am on the new adventure. Three hours to Port Angeles via Shelton, then 90 minutes to Forks, and four more hours back home. Kish Kumen is dead positive that we (four of us) are stark raving mad. There is something unsettling about 4 grown adults that spend a whole day on the back of 4 vehicles whose ultimate objective and inborn natural desire is to fall over on their sides. Even sadder is the three days it will take to remove the giddy grin from their faces.
Half way into the trip Kish gets bike sick. You ever cleaned monkey puke off a leather seat or an enabler's butt? Me neither and I wasn't about to get my first chance. So we pull over along Crescent Lake outside of Port Angeles. Kish spews toxic waste onto the side posts and we all skidaddle before the EPA can arrest us. This shot is 3 seconds pre-puke.
This next shot was tricky. For years all I heard was Team Jacob this and Team Edward that. You'd think that Kish was an adolescent girl or worse..... one of my daughters. Take me to Forks. I want to see the vampires. I want to run with the werewolves. I want to hold Bellas' hand. (I can't believe I knew that much about that Twilight poo-poo, ca ca, doodie.) So here's proof that I took the little whiner to Forks.