Grrr – awoke late, grouchy and grizzly like a bear just emerging from the world's worst hibernation. The incessant pounding of the drops outside my window had changed pitch, but not frequency or volume for the entire night. I extended my sixth sense outside my room and felt...a certain degree of moisture in the air! A peek around the curtain confirmed this – the mist tendrilled around the closer peaks and wafted down to hang like cotton around some of the taller trees: if it had been Christmas I would have been happy. Oh well, at least with the rain in the air, staying inside would be a pleasure! A true layover day at the Paradise Inn it was to be!
Up, and rugged up, I wandered downstairs to a brunch of buffalo stew (very nice, but my heart ached for the poor beast) whilst casting my eyes around the large foyer of the Inn. Speaking of beasts, the place was jam-packed with the human variety. Hmmm, clearly most others here were of the same anti-water, slack-arsed bias as me. OK, unless I wanted to succumb to good old crowded-cabin fever and go all 'Jack Torrance' on the general populace, I needed to find a distraction.
Of course – the ultimate obsessive person's distraction: clean your bike! The sheer anality of this folly was demonstrated by the fact that I was perfectly happy to locate Derek, force him with veiled threats of carnage (after Diane had knocked back my charming request for same) to go down to the van, myself in tow, through considerable rain for a distance of several kilometers (OK - meters), collect a bunch of wipes and some towels, and trudge all the way back wet. No problem, for I was to be OCCUPIED!
An hour of occupation hence, I had acquired an entourage of 5 other tour group members also seeking the bliss of dirt removal, and decided that it was getting too crowded and wipes-ridden underfoot. So, I resolved to go outside!
Best thing I ever did: whilst it was misty and damp, the air was crackly with cleanliness, and the clouds, mist and sun fooled around with each other over the surrounding peaks, light playing across the environs in fantastic ways. Liberating my camera, I spent a couple of hours wandering amongst the buildings, climbing on rocks and squelching through puddles just absorbing the views and atmosphere, and snapping pics. Rather than crap on about it, I'll just post some:
The changes in visual moods were immediate and dramatic: one minute I was in the Alps, with Julie Andrews and the curtain-clad kids skipping and rolling around the high meadows: the next poor Julie was cut down by a giant Visigoth striding downwards from mountains as brooding and vengeful as he was, intent of knocking every last shred of joy out of those hills of hers.
I was fairly wet – but who cared: it was a vividly imagined Karmic payback for Ms Andrews!
At one point I came across a bunch of people who were shooting pics for an outdoor clothing brochure: it was vastly stereotypical, with the camera dude and his tons of equipment; lighting-guy with his lamps and reflective umbrellas; the director pointing at shit; a rock-jawed male model with perfect hair, skin, teeth and what I imagined would be piercing blue eyes; a flitty clothes person doing little preening tweaks of the model's 'after-ski' clothes to best present them; a make-up person who seemed to be applying stuff from a distance of about 10 meters. It was all a little wanky but I actually noticed that the model was, in fact, doing all the work: performing on queue, waiting patiently, ignoring perfectly the flap around him, and doing these really fascinating 'robot' moves where he'd stride up the hill towards the camera and then instantaneously, as if he'd been switched off, come to a stop in an 'action' pose. The sense of animation he conveyed with such economy of movement was pretty amazing. I briefly contemplated launching a rock to intercept his bare head, just to test if he was indeed human, but if he wasn't, they're making very realistic cyborgs nowadays! Anyway, was very impressed with the dude!
Wandering away, I spied what looked like the distinctive cupola shape of a flying saucer: I made my way over to the Paradise Visitor Information Centre.
Quite an amazing shape, and what I thought was by far the most interesting building I'd seen in a long time. Stands out like a sore thumb against the surrounding vista and other buildings (I don't know how I missed it when I rode in the previous day – I suspect it just never rose above my sub-conscious perception given I was semi-dead) but I love its imposing alien shape, quirky austerity and simplicity.
They are building a new Information Centre in keeping with the rest of the architecture of the place – it looks like an Amish barn. Hopefully they keep the old saucer as a big "f" you to all those who are so intent on homogenizing the 'Alpine' architectural experience into something resembling a run-of-the-mill outdoor poster designer's wet dream.
The building is getting somewhat run down, but even in that state it holds a wealth of delights: gentle curves and sweeps, somewhat labyrinthine internal routes, buttresses, upper windows that make you feel like you are looking out of a submarine into another world, aspects always receding into the distance as you traverse, spaces compelling you to travel forward. Its sense of kinetics was strong as, dare I say, its innate organic-ness: it looks like it was grown.
The place had a wealth of information about Mt Rainer and surrounds, but I confess I didn't investigate: I was just fascinated with the building itself.
Arriving at the top level, I slowly 360ed around the circular floor, looking out at the views as they spun around the building and I: I could have stayed here much longer. As could what I assumed was a resident rodent – a squirrel flitted and twitched around the upper area picking scraps off the floor, not at all perturbed by people or walls. He looked like he'd found a cozy niche, and I envied him his groovy pad!
I stayed inside for a while longer – I was getting cold, and the day was passing but my water-phobia had come back. It was raining outside and I hopefully waited for a break – after a while I decided a little more water was acceptable and, exiting the UFO, I trotted back to the Inn, my room, a shower, and a cheerful meal with fellow tour members.
I hadn't seen Mt Rainier, but it really didn't matter: I was happily envisaging the 'Saucer' glowing and oscillating gently under a faint moon, contemplating a journey back to its place of origin...temporarily lodged in this cradle of peaks, it looked other-worldly and yet strangely acclimated.
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