Of Love, Rain, and Conspiracy Theories

"Not another weekend of rain!" I said to George. We looked at the images on the Weather Channel, with reports about mud slides, flooding pastures, and raging rivers. Two inches of rain fell in some parts, and light snowfall blanketed the high moun- tains. Last weekend we had a long hike, in the rain, and we really did not want another one. As magnificent as the forests can be to provide a canopy, there is nothing like open country and vista.

George suggested that we drive over to eastern Washington, and head south toward toward Richland and the Yakima River.
This is an area we've never hiked or canoed, although we've explored it a few times. It is exquisitely vast and dramatic. But, to get there is an ordeal of significant proportions for me - I simply cannot sit for long periods anymore.

George plied all his usual assurances, and attempted to sell the idea as we packed our gear, got our breakfast at McDonalds, and then headed over Snoqualmie Pass. He was full of chicanery: The task was to keep me preoccupied in conversation for two hours, followed by my favorite music for another two hours, followed by hours and hours of Robert Anton Wilson's futurist psychology on the return drive home.

We drove further and further away from civilization. The scab- lands of eastern Washington became more dramatic and more spooky! Huge thunderclouds loomed overhead.

The wind blew alkali dust in swirls that dissipated upwards toward the mountains. The mood was heightened as Wilson explained the eight stages of consciousnes, the origins of language, guerrilla ontology, the paranormal, and 'real and imagined political conspiracies'.

The mix of topics was astounding! I looked at the DVD jacket cover: Six Hours of Listening for Adventurous Minds Only! Lectures on The Acceleration of Knowledge, The New Inqui- sition, and Religion For the Hell of It, all fashioned in a most comic fashion for the 'mystically inclined'. Or, it was added, "Old Bob Exposes His Ignorance".

We didn't need Bob's existential predicaments to add on to the one we already had - namely, it was too windy to canoe. That left only hiking, so we back-tracked to a well-known favorite, Lake Nunnally, and did some bluff climbing.

The weather was just wonderful - warm, T-shirt weather, and sunshine. The views were great, but the wind was so brutal we had to brace ourselves just to stand up. We hiked for about three hours, returning back to the car about an hour before sunset.

Looking back, we'd spent most of our day driving - about eight hours. It seemed like a lot of effort just to stretch the vision and avoid the rain. But, looking back, we're always glad we did it.