Vashon Island news-record. [volume] (Vashon, Wash.) 1919-1954, 1931-08-27


mer night
At two. and at four we stopped for
coffee, and the riotous bus driver
bounded us out, and kidded us into
chasing each other up and down the
platform. He was the best kink ex-
terminator I ever saw. But with three
college girls and boy from Oregon
to contend with he had time AS
one OF the girls said, I'VE can sleep
any day, why waste night like
this?"
Then came the dawn! Faint and
pink behind the hills, and growing in
splendor as we travelled. Fresh and
exhilarating the air, and breakfast
Just ahead!
But there I am with the cart half
way down the hill, and the horse
chasing along behind. / would tell
about the end Of the trip first!
Going back to Pete and "Sloop"
however-here they were all packed to
start when someone conceived the
brilliant idea of my riding to Berkeley
with them. Did hesitate? With the
best friend l have in the world living
at Monterey? The only reason 1 slept
over the idea was because night in
tervened between the idea and the
time of departure.
BY five O'Clock the next afternoon
we were at Seaside, Ore, with the
-Four Hundred stretched on the sands
before us in various stages of dis
habille, and the ocean booming at
their feet. Marking our mile posts be-
hind us were innumerable New York
ers. That was our New York day.
Everywhere we stopped-for lunch, at
the toll bridge, at the gas station, was
someone born in or around Schenect-
ady. Our license attracted them like
flies-one man even hailed us on the
road and stopped for a chat Pete
said she hated to go home for fear
there'd be no one there to welcome
her. Sloop said nothing in her usual
manner, but I noticed the men all
looked at her while they talked. The
New Yorker who interested me most
was the one who could spit tobacco
juice over the fender OF our car with
out marring the finish. I got SO alb
sorbed wondering If he was going to
make it every time that I forgot to
listen to what he was saying-some-
thing about the reformatory back
there, and how he instigated the re-
call of the boy beaten who ran the
institution.
At Rockaway we saw the ocean as
nature intended it-unmarred by So
ciety. Sloppy stood on the sand and
watched it roll in, and listened to it
roar as it tossed its white spray
angrily into the sinking sun.
Ooh, said she despairingly, II
can't sta-and tits so beautiful. II
just can't stand It'll" So Pete and I
led her away and filled her little tum-
my with good hot victuals.
1t was here bought my sweat shirt,
and we became the "sweatshirt trio.
If you ever rode in roadster along
the ocean you'd understand why we
needed them Until noon the next day
we drove down the Oregon coast
with the sun, and the fresh salt air in
our faces, and the surf booming and
roaring beside us. The girls had gone !
for a dip at TOO a. m. and were still
tingling and thrilling over the manner
in which the breakers had knocked
them down and rolled them over in
the sand
AS we Travelled south the smooth
white sand disappeared and huge
boulders reared their rocky heads. At I
a point called Crest, we stopped and
viewed the rugged coast line. Like
tiny atoms we stood with the world |
at our feet. Sloop crawled out on the
furthest rock to get full view. I
turned nervous eyes towards Pete who !,
promptly hauled her back with the
disguised remark that "she always in
sists upon hanging from her eyelashes
from every crack and GRANNY"
Further down we visited the
Devils Punch Bowl, and peering
over the edge watched the ocean boil
and seethe and stir in that great rock
cauldron that nature had fashioned.
And again down the coast to New
port, where we spent half an hour
wandering up and down the quaint
board walks and gazing in the win
dows of innumerable curio stores.
Then with last regretful look ocean
wards we turned inland towards Cor
wallis.