One long night in the Northstar.

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Have you ever wanted to spend a long evening crammed inside a dirty Northstar? I sure did, and that dream came true last weekend in Sequim, WA. After having dinner with our hosts, the H-s', we took our leave of the house and repaired to the quarters we were to share that evening. The Northstar's berths included one fold out table, suitable for single accomodation, and one upper bunk, capable of sleeping two. After Mass was routed by a double Rock, Paper, Scisors loss, it was determined that I would enjoy the single bed, whilst Mass shared the upper bunk with Ruby. Mass did not find this acceptable. Without going into the ugly details, let's just say that Mass took his loss poorly and boycotted the Northstar all together. So much for Mass. Anyway, shortly after completing the majority of our interview questions, to be used in the next day's filming, we turned the lights out in the Northstar and went to sleep. With the heater on, and the pillow soft, I was fully expecting a comfortable night's rest.

Let me make an aside here. The Northstar was filthy. We all knew this, and commented on it extensively. But, what were we going to do? We made peace with the dust and the dinge, and said little more about it that evening.

Upon getting out of bed, my head immediatly began to ache, my sinuses started to run, and an overwhelming congestion overtook my head. The filth of the Northstar had made me sick. But what was I to do? I held my peace as I was asked for the time by a half-conscious H. Cinnamon. "That's 8:00am light if I ever saw it", I replied vigorously. We decided to go intot he house and see if our friend Mass had overslept and forgotten to awake us att he appointed time.

As we stepped up onto the creaky porch and entered the house, a distrubing stillness became painfully aparant. It was 5:30, and nobody was awake. Goddamned Northstar.

I am still recovering from whatever pestilence I fell victim to while asleep in the Northstar's belly.

I have included some pictures to augment this terrible, poorly worded and incomplete prose.

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Photos

The Northstar
Den of dirt and dinge.

Nuke
A wrong turn on the drive to Sequim took us to a dead-end vantage point overlooking Hood Canal. We were lucky enough to catch a rare glimpse of a nuclear submarine from the Bangor base.

The Set
Wind was a problem with the wireless lavaliers.

We Support Our Troops
A storefront on the way home.