Drinking Beer Quarts With Eddy And Rich

Writing In My Journal On The Ferry Crossing Over To British Columbia, Canada
June 25, `80

Well here I am again, cold and wet, waiting to board a Ferry. The
more things change the more they stay the same. This is a repeat of
my Maine-Nova Scotia extravaganza of a couple years back. Last night
it poured. My tent held. It's a good tent! This morning the rain
lifted long enough for me to pack up my leech-laden tent (they just love wet
nylon), and after an hour or so of peddling through sporadic showers,
I arrived in Port Angles. Following breakfast, and a trip to the
currency exchange for my Canadian money, here I am, not wet to the
bone, but still wet. It's pouring outside.

Except for the obvious dirt and wetness, my bike seems to be holding
up pretty well. I stopped at a bike shop and had it checked over. It
received a clean bill of health and except for the weather we're both
ready for our long trip across Canada.

Getting Reacquainted With Eddy

I phoned Eddy from seventy miles out of Olympia to make sure he was
going to be home for the weekend. He didn't sound very excited to hear
from me, so I mentally prepared for the worst. By the time I arrived, I
was prepared for anything, anything except for what I found. Eddy
hadn't changed one iota. It was hard to believe, but true. He had
always acted kind of stoically, so that explained his blasé attitude
on the phone, however, once in his presence it was as if the seven
years that separated us had never happened. He was the very same person
I remembered from our time spent together back in Hawaii. As soon as
I arrived, Eddy called up Richard and told him bicycle Dave was in town
(Richard gave me that handle in Hawaii). Soon after that the three of us ended up at Eddy’s favorite neighborhood tavern, drinking quarts of beer (the bar ran specials on quarts), and reminiscing over all those beer drinking nights we shared back on Oahu. For me, it was a mind-boggling experience, but a pleasant one.