It’s been three and a half months since we rolled into town. This is a sort of strange place — a seasonally touristy Victorian seaport surrounded by woods and water, and one out of ten cars or so has a bumper sticker that reads, “we’re all here because we’re not all there.”  There’s no place to buy socks in town (reportedly) but on my block alone there’s a yarn shop, a tea shop, a candle store, a couple of consignment shops, several nice restaurants and an alternative medicine therapy place. It’s a quirky place, to be sure. There are things I don’t love about Port Townsend, but there’s a lot to like. Here are a few.

Deer Everywhere

Like a lot of the things on this list, this is a mixed blessing — we’ve got to be super careful on the roads at all times, and backyard gardens pretty much require a deer-proof fence. But it’s pretty great to see wildlife in your backyard every day, too. They’re very tame and often hang out in packs of five or six. Our house backs up against a cliff, and they like to nosh on the trees and plants that grow on the side of that cliff; it’s nice to look out the kitchen window and see a family of deer having their lunch.

Public Trails

This one’s actually a mixed blessing, too. The city was laid out on a grid back when it was founded, and anticipating rapid growth, builders started building up the town from all sides. When the railroad went to Seattle, and not to Port Townsend, growth slowed, leaving holes in the grid all over the place. Roads dead end into wilderness and pick up again half a mile away — all over town. It’s frustrating to drive through, but the city has done an awesome job of making it perfect for walking.

There are long public trails winding through hilly spots unsuitable for roads and development, and little “short cut” public trails almost everywhere the grid cuts out. Motor vehicles are not allowed on the narrow dirt paths, and from many, many trails, it’s easy to forget you’re anywhere near a town — until you pop out unexpectedly on the other side. Perfect for aimless wandering.

The Mountains

I’ve mentioned before that on a clear day, we can see both the Cascades and the Olympics from our bay window. The two ranges face one another across the Puget Sound. What makes it somehow more special is that we can’t see them every day. Some days we can see blue outlines of ridges, other days it doesn’t look like there are mountains at all — but on clear days, they pop out with rows and rows of snow-capped peaks. Some days we can even see Mount Rainier from here, looking straight across Admiralty bay from downtown Port Townsend, facing south-east.

(click to enlarge.)
(click to enlarge.)

Creative People

I’m really inspired by the people around me here. People are doing amazing things here — above is a photo of a farmer giving a demonstration of installing a new bee hive. Most of the people I know make things with their hands, from wooden boats to cat toys to woven baskets to homemade hot tubs. There are weekly craft nights and lots of work parties to get things done. I have no doubt that my surge in making things since moving here is in part due to being surrounded  by other makers, and I’m so grateful for that!

Vintage Cars and Trucks

For some reason, this town is full of old vehicles in varying states of disrepair. It’s great to wander around and see all these gorgeous cars, some polished and beautifully maintained, many others half falling apart or overgrown with moss and brush. There are lots of vintage Internationals and Volvos, in particular, which I love to see.

Quirks

No doubt, this town has stretched my tolerance for quirky stuff: from “Victorian Days,” where lots of people dress up in Victorian costume and wander around town or cycle through on their high-wheeled tricycles to Rhodyfest, the Rhododendron Festival that took place last weekend. The festival featured the strangest parade I’ve ever seen, including a Mad Max-style bike gang with an aging metal band playing on a float, a steampunk zeppelin float, marching midwives, and a flatbed truck simply hauling a large load of lumber (I assumed it was the local lumberyard’s float, though I didn’t see a sign at all). In the fall, there’s a cross-town race of homemade amphibious vehicles, followed by a masked ball at the local VFW hall. My brother lives in a barn. It’s a quirky place. And I’m not going to pretend I’ve never rolled my eyes when I’ve seen a man in a top hat walking down Water Street, but some of the quirks are kind of wonderful, too.

A typical neighborhood lot: Two trees and a fence decked out in buoys (year round) — And this is not even the side of their yard with the most buoys.

If you’re curious to hear more, stay tuned for another installment next week.

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May 22, 2012

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