It was nearly 9:00pm on one of our longest and warmest Seattle days. Knowing we had about an hour until the sun set behind the Olympic Mountains, The Non-Scotsman and I decided to scuttle over to West Seattle to watch the orb take it's plunge.
We put the top down and went the scenic route - our favorite - Highway 99, aka: The Alaskan Way Viaduct. Built in 1952, this bridge has been both a stunning architectural feat and a thorn from the burning sulfur of Hades in Seattle's side. I adore it.
(The Viaduct during construction, 1952)
Just as we pulled onto it, however, we skidded to a sharp stop, nearly colliding with the car in front of us. The Mini behind us screeched to a stop inches from our bumper. We braced ourselves, like soldiers that understand the battle to come, for the inevitable. Stand-still traffic jam. We sat for a moment or 10, finally realizing we were going nowhere really at all, and started enjoying the scenery around us, snapping photos with our phones out of the top of the convertible. We realized where we were - sitting happily on a bridge with priceless, untapped views all around. I sat back and smiled broadly at the jam-packed car of hip-hoppers stopped next to us.
City on the left - Puget Sound on the right. Sensory enjoyment overload.
Some things I learned while stuck in traffic:
1. There's some sort of factory directly in front of the cheeky Four Seasons Hotel. Doesn't block their view, but does produce a billowing steam in front of their views.
2. Owners of the Four Seasons Condos and I have a lot in common: we both love to sit on our balconies with a glass of wine and watch the sunset with good friends.
3. Seattlites will grow plants ANYWHERE.
4. A sneak peak into the old brick Pioneer Square apartments off the highway shows that many of them leave their laundry strewn about the house.
5. People, maybe some stuck in traffic like us, have gotten out of their cars and written love notes on the cement pillars of the highway. Risking death for the sake of love, eh?
6. Parking garages get all the good, big windows. I want to live in one.
The sun tucked in for the night before we ever got to the end of the bridge by the stadiums. We'd been in the car over an hour, but we didn't need West Seattle by then, anyway. The hour in the car, on the most scenic piece of property in the city, filled us up to contentment.
I hope I hit traffic again soon.