My Crash Landing in the Seattle Area.

It wasn't easy; after packing my trusty old truck to the brim, I pointed my bumper (I only have one) West, and drove until I hit the Emerald City. I divided my trip half, spending the night in Walla Walla, where I was reminded of what it's like to be a second-semester college senior by drinking waaaay too much keg beer on a Thursday night before falling asleep on the floor. The second half of the drive was harrowing: a freak late-March blizzard slammed into western Washington. I drove through snow and slush for nearly three hours, barely made it over Snoqualmie pass before the road closed, and arrived in Seattle as it was being pelted with sleet.

My decision to move to Seattle was prompted by several factors:

1. My lease was up, and I had no desire to continue paying rent on a house I wasn't going to see more than a week per month tops.
2. My cooking, cleaning, and carpentry skills have arrived at a level of proficiency capable of offsetting my intrusion to a friend's living space. If the guy sleeping on your couch will cook and clean and fix stuff, he's usually welcome to stay much longer than a guy who just sleeps on your couch.
3. My team manager Alan Schmitz, a good friend and fellow Whitman College alumni, mandated that all members of the elite team live in or near the Seattle area during the season. I wonder if he would have still set that condition if he knew I would one day arrive at his house, my truck overflowing with junk, and ask for a patch of floor to sleep on. Sorry Alan, now where I sleep is just as much your problem as it is mine...

In all honesty, Alan and his housemates have been wonderful. At a time when I could be feeling rather disconnected, unstable or uncomfortable, Alan has done his best to make my transition easy and make me feel welcome. I have been cooking up a storm in return.