Most people outside the Northwest (plus an alarming percentage of Seattle residents) don't realize that Washington is largely desert. The pine trees, snow-capped mountains and waters featured on postcards actually comprise just the western quarter of the state, and the rest is arid. I know it surpised the heck out of me. As I drove from Sea-Tac to my future home in Spokane that first time, I oohed and ahhed my way through the spectacular Cascade mountains and the Columbia River Gorge. And then two hours of ever-mounting horror ensued. Everything turned brown, barren, flat. I hit tumbleweeds. Coyotes prowled the interstate. "I. Have made. An enormous mistake," I thought.
Spokane wasn't as bad as all that, but it's still quite dissimilar from Seattle. Spokane gets seasons. Tons of snow. Scorching hot summers. The bitterest, most penetrating cold I've ever lived in. Until I arrived in Spokavegas Wednesday, I'd forgotten just how cold cold is. The shock absorbers in your car perform their designated task exactly as well as frozen turkey drumsticks would. Merely inhaling is like swallowing shards of broken glass. There be frozen boogers here. When you stick your hand out to grab the newspaper in the morning, you feel your skin tighten in that split second. Then the newspaper radiates icey cold as you read it. On the up side, Ed pees in 2.3 seconds here.