On the Road, Part II: Side Effects of Book Reading May Include Loitering

After much excitement and a year of anticipation, it finally happened: I got to see Forks. LIVE! In-person! And, with me, I had the people who I blame for my exposure to this damned place, as well as the last year (and subsequent ones) of insanity and pathetic ineptitude: Kim and Avaryl.

And, after everything, my initial reaction was... Huh. That was it: Huh. The unsure feeling was a little intense. On the one hand, Forks is extremely exciting, because it's where Twilight is set, and it has become so iconic in my mind, even though it's just from a silly book, and the entire day of exploration was filled with comments like "Dude, this is where Bella and Jacob met!" and "The Cullens hunt in these woods!" and "Edward sped on this road, bitches!"

Yes. All of those phrases, and countless others, were uttered unapologetically throughout the course of our time here. And you know what? SO not ashamed.

On the other hand, Forks is a very depressing, run-down little town. One little main road (interestingly enough, the 101), surrounded by a prison of trees, with dilapidated houses and shops and buildings scattered about like a Monopoly board once a five-year-old has thrown it on the floor after realizing it's the world's most pointless game. Yes, it's described that way (though, perhaps, not that exact phrasing) in the books, but seeing it all was a little bittersweet. Everyone we saw in town, we immediately pitied them for being stuck here, but at the same time were a little jealous of them and wanted to find out what it was like to live in a town where a book like Twilight is set.

We have a sickness. Severe and, I fear, irreversible.

But that was all at first. As soon as we saw our resort lodgings, we relaxed. It is, without a shred of doubt, the greatest place I've ever stayed. I love it so much (as Avaryl and Kim have not stopped hearing me proclaim), I can almost not stand it. We had a little apartment-like suite, right on the Quillayute River—simply the most beautiful location in Forks. There were only five other suites on the property, only two of which were in use.

It was serene and lovely. In celebration, our first night, we barbecued. Accompanied (responsibly) by an entire bottle of wine. Yum-O.

In the morning, starting off our full-day of Forks fun!, we relaxed, took our time, made breakfast and coffee, then headed out for Rialto Beach—just down the road from our hotel.

I've never enjoyed a beach so full of rocks and driftwood before. It was like retarded children let loose on their first playground. And their parents were stupid enough to let them use a camera!

Oh, the excitement. Plus, I found the raddest walking stick ever, so that baby is gonna be sanded, polished and carried around with me more often than necessary, in all likelihood.

Then we made our way to Sully's Drive-In, obviously the happenin' place in Forks. I resisted the urge to order the "Bella" Burger (with pineapples and special sauce!) 'cause I didn't want people to think I was some fan or something! I mean, embarrassing....... We then toted our little burgers and fries to the Quileute Reservation (that's right—where Jacob lives!), wandered our way to First Beach, located the perfect log (you know... the log!) and had our lunch.

Other than talking about Twilight, the only thing left to do was soldier over the mountain of driftwood (why people chop down trees when it is clearly falling from the heavens and washing up on shore is beyond me) and be thankful that there was no rain... just the grayest, saddest looking sky on earth.

I don't think we talked about anything but Twilight, to be honest with you. If we did, I don't remember it, so it doesn't matter. We were practically handed a gift-wrapped opportunity to talk about the books and the characters without shame or embarrassment and no other witnesses but our sad, obsessive little selves. And we opened that fool-package, right quick.

(You think this hurts to read, but imagine the pain of actually writing all this, not to mention the embarrassment of not being remotely embarrassed by it. We're all allowed a vice.)

The day rounded off with an excursion down the highway to the Hoh Rain forest. We drove, stopped, took pictures, harassed an elk (whom we lovingly named Laura—apparently they don't acknowledge you when you yell, "Hey! Elk!"), hiked down a mini-trail, and avoided paying any type of fee. Eat that, Olympic National Park rangers!

The great thing about road-tripping here is that there are so few things to do; there is no need to plan out the day to a T, no need to make sure you have enough time. Just go with the flow, and that's what we did. We spent the night in the apartment, soaking up our last night of comfort and warmth.

I'll say it again: The Quillayute River Resort is a STEAL! The greatest locale in the Pacific Northwest (not that I really know much of anything), and I will be coming back someday for a week of writing and reading and sitting around.

It's what Forks was clearly made for.

I guess the scariest part of our trip in terms of our insanity is how, the next morning, before saying "goodbye" to Forks, we went all over town, down most of the streets, in search of all the places "talked about" in the books.

We had to have pictures. We had to dub things appropriately, and we all had to agree. We also had to find the places we already knew existed, which, obviously, didn't take any searching so much as it took diligent coasting/camera abilities.

We found Bella's house near the woods (notice the red truck!), the hospital, the sporting goods store (we ignored the lack of the actual name), and Forks High School (above). I think of all the places, Jacob's house on First Beach (left) is my favorite, 'cause it's just too perfect. There's even a garage in the back!

We're sad, pathetic loiterers. I'm honestly surprised we weren't arrested. The simple fact we aren't actually IN most of these "hunting" pictures just goes to show you how truly lame our drive-by tendencies were. (And it doesn't stop in Forks, I'm afraid.)

I love this place. I love it. I love everything. No, I wouldn't want to live here—at least, I wouldn't want to raise a family here or grow old here or anything (too many trees!) but I want to come back all the time.

It's the feeling. What else can I say?