Montana, Washington hasn’t tried to drown me, drive me off a cliff or crush my soul. Washington has behaved itself. But… I don’t know… it’s… um…
You know how you meet certain people, and they’re quite nice in many ways, and there’s nothing wrong about them, but you can’t wait for the conversation to be over and get away because there’s just… something? That’s how I am with Washington. I have no rational reason for avoiding that state.
Once I had come up through the northeast corner of Oregon, headed for the coast, and I had the choice of staying on the Oregon side of the Columbia River or crossing over to the Washington side. I chose the latter, just to see if I’d have my Washington reaction. After all, it’s hard to be any less in Washington than that. Yup, I soon got that can-I-leave-yet feeling.
Another time I was heading to Astoria, Oregon, from the Mount Hood area. The Portland-traffic-avoiding route crossed into the far southwest corner of Washington for, like, thirty miles. Errrrgh. It was torture. And totally irrational.
So, since I successfully dealt with my Montana issues, I figured I could do the same with Washington. After a pleasant day in the Idaho panhandle I crossed the state line and… no problems, no urge to flee. Press onward.