I slept in my car in the woods surrounding Priest Lake, Idaho.  I had intended to stay at a friend’s cabin, but the plan collapsed.  I woke up before the sun rose and boiled water for coffee on a camp stove I bought in Seattle.  Ate an apple.  Walked down to the lake to see the sun.  Then drove east to Bozeman, MT.

The Great Northwest is extremely rural.  The towns have their churches and auto-repair shops and little else.  So one is surprised by the omnipresent espresso stands.  At nearly every gas station sits a small hut, where men in pick-up trucks stop to order lattes.  Not the drip-coffee rurality I knew growing up.  Seattle creep.  Strange.


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