I stopped for lunch along I-5 in a tiny town called Castle Rock near Mt. St. Helens.
What's remarkable about this?
For years I was too timid to drive from Los Angeles to San Francisco (my home town) alone.
Now I was just miles from my next destination that took me from Los Angeles to the capital of British Columbia.
I'd driven California's bumpy roads, Mt. Shasta high cliff roads, and Oregon's smooth billboard-less roads, alone.
On this leg of the journey, I left Portland at 12:20 and with stops for lunch and gas, arrived to Black Ball Transport in Port Angeles to take the ferry to Victoria with only fifteen minutes to spare to make the 5:15 boat.
The drive was quite pretty, especially after Olympia, Washington. Soon I was driving through the magnificent Olympic National Park without any stress save for the motorhome that snailed in front of me for several miles on a two-lane road.
I wanted to make the 5:15 boat.
Stress.
What could I do?
Destress.
I focused on the fact there was a 9:30 p.m. boat.
In the end, I made the earlier boat, and arrived to Victoria by 6:45 p.m to start my B.C. adventure.
I started at my favorite Irish pub, The Irish Times--great food and music.
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