Devolution: A Firsthand Account of the Rainier Sasquatch Massacre(10)







* The Karlsruhe Institute of Technology, which has pioneered the process of 3-D glass printing by embedding a silicon base with polymer nanoparticles.





    Monkey, you want to reign over all the animals, but look what a fool you are!

—AESOP





From the American Geosciences Institute (published online one year prior to the Rainier Eruption).


Citing “priority realignment,” the president has requested a 15 percent cut from the budget of the U.S. Geological Survey for the coming fiscal year. The budget proposal would eliminate implementation of an earthquake early warning system for the West Coast, the Geomagnetism Program that would aid in the forecasting of geomagnetic storms, and an immediate suspension of the National Volcano Early Warning System. This last aspect is particularly worrisome, as Washington’s Mount Rainier has shown recent signs of renewed activity.





JOURNAL ENTRY #3


October 1

I’m sorry I wasn’t more open during our session. I shouldn’t have used up all our time talking about how beautiful it is up here. Avoidance? You’re probably right.

And I’m sorry I haven’t written more this whole week. Too busy settling in. No, that’s not all. I’m still getting used to the idea of writing stuff down. Even in this letter format you recommended. Yes, it’s easier to write once I get going, but the idea of sitting down every day, talking about what I’ve done. Not even on paper, not even to myself. It’s just hard. Looking in.

And, to be fair, there’s a lot to get used to.

I know telecommuting isn’t new. But it is for me. I never realized how much I craved the structure of going into an office; dedicated work space, work people, work time.

At least the house is comfortable. So much nicer than our rental back in Venice. Clean, high-tech, effortless. Frank even told us that he’d left a “housewarming present.” Literally. All that methane in the biodigester. Every time I think about sleeping, eating, living above a giant tank of my brother’s poo, I just try to remember that it’s also one less bill to pay.

Unpacking’s been slow, breaking down all those boxes, organizing all our stuff. It’s all gotta be just right, you know me. A place for everything, and everything in its place.

I have been settling into a nice routine though. I need that. Structure. I wake up every morning with this majestic view right outside my window. The tall, green trees rising up to the top of the ridge behind the house. The way the leaves sparkle in the sun. The birdsong alarm clock. Not that I’ve ever needed one. Always up, always ready. But it’s so nice, for a change, to rise with excitement instead of nerves. I can’t remember the last time I did that. Middle school? When was the last time I didn’t open my eyes with a mental checklist ticking in my brain? Stuff to do. Problems to solve.

I still have them, of course, but knowing that my day will start with a hike in the woods helps. I’ve been doing that every morning. Up and dressed, quietly as I can so as not to wake up Dan, and out the door. Easier to be quiet when you don’t have to worry about turning off a burglar alarm. Nobody sets theirs, no need! Then out and up the trail behind the house.

Dawn is so peaceful here. Just me and the sun, and Yvette! She’s up way before anyone, in the Common House, teaching online classes around the globe. I haven’t brought myself to take one yet. Even though she won’t charge me. “Just perch yourself behind the webcam and it’ll feel like a private lesson.” I keep meaning to do it. Too intimidating, and, let’s be honest, it does get in the way of my hike!

I can’t believe I get to do this whenever I want! Will it ever get old? How can it? I love that crisp, cool air in my lungs, on my cheeks, down my back when I warm up enough to take off my fleece. Frank warned me about when the weather turns, in a month or so, when it supposedly nosedives into real cold. I won’t mind. It’ll be nice to have real winters again, like we did back east.

So far, I’ve been doing the same hike every day, the trail that loops around the neighborhood up to the ridge that overlooks everything. And I do mean everything!

Mount Rainier is out of a storybook. The white peak rising in the distance. The morning light turning its snow an orange pink. You’d expect a princess to live in a castle on the summit, or an angry dragon to sleep under its base. Sounds crazy, but I feel strangely safe every morning when I see Rainier, like it’s watching over us. I know the tremors we’ve been feeling (we’ve had one or two since that first time at dinner) are coming from the mountain, but I can’t reconcile them with this protective giant ruling all he surveys.

The Boothes don’t think I’m crazy. I mentioned it to them yesterday morning. They also do a pre-breakfast dawn hike. They’re so nice, so inclusive. I ran into them yesterday morning on my way up the ridge. I felt really uncomfortable at first, like I’d intruded in some way. Yes, we should probably talk about this, why on a public path I felt like their rights trumped mine. But they just waved me over.

We chatted all the way up the trail. Bobbi asked how well I knew Seattle, and I confessed that I’d never really spent any time there. Vincent couldn’t stop talking about how wonderful it was, “cultured” was the word he used. The fish market, the theater scene, MoPOP.*1 Bobbi offered the use of their pied-à-terre, a condo they have in Madison Park and visit a couple times a month. “Otherwise we’d go crazy.” That was Vincent. “Just knowing that Seattle is only ninety minutes or so makes all the difference.” Bobbi added, “Depending on traffic.” And they laughed together.

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