Anniversary Quatro

Has it really been four years?  It feels like only four minutes.  UNDER WATER.  

This marriage thing has been one wild ride that I will keep buying tickets for over and over and over again.  Kind of like that one time I refused to get off the Zipper at the Puyallup fair.   Seriously, there isn’t a carnie out there that could pry my hands off the safety bar of this thing while I grin like a fool and maybe wet my pants a little.   In the meantime, Toby is wedged against the side of the cage with his eyes shut tight wishing he had taken some Dramamine…

To celebrate our anniversary this year we’re heading to Winthrop Friday evening, staying at a B&B and riding a long mountain bike loop on Saturday.   Toby and I met mountain biking and I used our mountain bike adventures to stalk him and eventually wear him down until he was all fine WOMAN, I will marry you.  But only if I can wear camo at the wedding.   So, three out of four of our anniversaries have involved a mountain biking component.  

Our first year, when we were still living in North Bend, we drove over to Cashmere to ride Devil’s Gulch.   Because what doesn’t celebrate and exemplify marriage like twelve miles of tortuous uphill riding for that over-too-fast, grinning-ear-to-ear downhill section?!    Our second year, we bought ourselves some mountain biking gear online and went out to dinner.  Last year, I don’t even want to talk about because I was pregnant and cranky and having a nine month No Good Very Bad Day. 

So we’re back to biking and a B&B this year and let me tell you, if our accommodations turn out to be anything like that first year, I’m never going to hear the end of it.   Toby and I are notoriously cheap (unless it involves sporting equipment) so I was stoked that I found the CUTEST bed and breakfast for a ridiculously low price.  It was in Peshastin instead of Leavenworth (our first choice), but did I mention the CUTENESS and the CHEAPNESS of it all?   Apparently, B&B owners can take pictures of ANY place and post them on their website regardless of whether or not the subject of the picture is actually the place for which you’re making a reservation.

We arrived at the address in some random neighborhood, and it’s clearly just someone’s house with an extra bedroom.   A darling older couple greeted us and showed us to our room and Sweet Fancy Moses, the RAINBOWS.  Every square inch of the room was painted in pink and purple rainbows.  Not to mention the 731 figurines of windmills and little Dutch boys, and every last piece of furniture being white wicker.   It was, in a word, awesome.   And by awesome, I mean freaking scary.

We wanted to go to Leavenworth for dinner so we showered the mountain biking muck off of us…in the bathroom we SHARED with the older couple that owns the joint, who  have one of those toilet seat riser thingies that I swear are solely for keeping older gentlemen’s saggy junk out of the toilet bowl.   As we headed out the door, the woman wanted to know exactly what time we would be back so she wouldn’t worry.  People, on the way back from dinner I was an absolute nervous wreck because we were a couple of minutes later than we’d specified and I was all that woman is going to call the cops on us!  We’re breaking curfew!

Not to worry, they were dead asleep.   I know this because our room shared a wall with theirs and I could hear the SNORING.  It was as if we were sharing a bed with the delightful couple.  And then I almost wet the bed because I was too afraid to go to the bathroom because what if the old man gets up at the same time and I run into him in the hallway and he’s not wearing a robe?!  I did not need that image burned into my brain.

So I’m hoping that I did a better job picking accommodations this year.  Except that I specifically chose the “Corral” room, which was described as “stepping back into the Wild West.”   And I looked at the address on Google Maps and it’s clearly someone’s house.     Here we go again…

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