59 degrees and sunny
Saturday was the day the Supermoon! was supposed to destroy everything on earth not already destroyed by the earthquake/tsunami/meltdown in Japan. Better return that library book, I thought.
The sun shone brightly, the blue sky was filled with fluffy clouds. I think we’ve finally emerged from winter. Just in time, as today is the Vernal Equinox.
The GTS, freshly oil-changed, rear-brake-padded and spark-plugged, needed some exercise. I’d been meaning to take the back roads to Ferndale, and this would be a great day.
Holly Street turns into Eldridge Avenue before becoming Marine Drive. From there, you hit the rural roads; to get to Ferndale, you take, well, Rural Road. Yes, my scooter was in the sticks. A scooter in the sticks prompts curiousity from the local residents.
Roads are narrow, made from gravel and oil packed down by cars, trucks and farm equipment. There were no shoulders on which to park and photograph some of the more interesting houses along the way. Some of them are much more improvised than you’d find in town.
Not all, however. Little clumps of early 21st-century suburbia like this one are scattered between the farms and light industry. You’ll find this entrance on Seahawk Lane, which I’ll bet didn’t exist until the houses were built.
There are a lot of tribal casinos in this neck of the woods. Some people look down their noses at the idea of, horrors, gambling, but lots of folks patronize these places, and as far as I can tell, almost none of them are tribal members. And I’m going to guess the casino patrons aren’t there for the $15.95 prime rib buffet, either.
There’s an actual taxi industry in Bellingham, and here’s where many of the yellow ones are parked at night and on weekends (there are also Red ones that aren’t red, and Blue ones that aren’t blue). Look carefully at the front of the barn-shaped building and you’ll see half of a Ford Crown Victoria above the entrance.
There was no scooter parking at the Ferndale Country Store. As you probably guessed.
It was lunchtime, so I decided to stop at one of the five SONIC® Drive-Ins in the state of Washington (last time I checked, there were only two). I’d never been to one, and I was curious. However, I didn’t try to park in a stall and order from a roller-skating carhop. There’s no place on the GTS to hang a tray, unfortunately.
The SONIC is located in a development called Ferndale Station. I’m not quite sure why they called it that—you can see train tracks from here, but as far as I could tell, trains don’t stop nearby. The whole place is done in the Old West Main Street-meets-21st Century style you see in the picture. Rather precious, though I’ve always wondered if anyone really likes the way developments like this look.
The Cherry Limeaid is SONIC’s signature drink. I dunno, to me it tasted like a 7up with a shot of cherry syrup. Their breakfast burrito isn’t bad.
I decided to return the way I came. I especially wanted to stop in a little park I saw on the way out. A sign at the entrance proclaims it to be owned by the Port of Bellingham. I wondered why, then as if on cue a Horizon Air Bombardier Q400 flew directly overhead. Of course… this little patch of ground is directly under the flight path to and from Bellingham International Airport (BLI). Nobody’d want to build a house here, for sure.
But the view is nice.