|
|
|
I spent a weekend when the shade-happy rhododendrons were in full bloom, along with much of the greenery and flowers popular on suburban frontages; but I advise going during the summer's peak, when for three months Mount Rainier rears up beyond the city, in clear skies stretching on for miles. The rains are rare and the city's vegetation hasn't yet died.
First, a drive through the proudly ultra-left Fremont, which is so committed to being *that* left (self-proclaimed most liberal town in the country, and probably not incorrect), actually acquired a statue of Lenin from the former Soviet Union. It was erected at a local commercial intersection. The other tourist trap in town (not visible from the road) is the troll under the bridge. Quite the statue as well, I've only seen pictures.
Secondly, in lieu of knowing about the local wines, we all took the Red Hook Brewery tour. Just outside the city, this facility was the largest I visited on my trip. A serious macrobrewery, but on a scale far below its parent shareholder Anheuser-Busch, the beers cannot be considered hand-crafted. They claim to be "craft-brewed," which supposedly means that they follow a strict guideline from the Bavarian example set four centuries ago. How a company that employs a negligible number of people for the manufacture of the beverage does this, I don't understand.
Nevertheless, the guide was impressively knowledgeable and performed a thoroughly entertaining tour complete with smart quips and audience-involvement (you know you're in the presence of greatness when you hear "come on guys, I know you can do better than that! How is everyone doing today?!").
He took the large group of tourists (a few buzzed from wine tastings in the neighborhood earlier that morning) upstairs to the tasting room, a loft above the bottling and brewing facilities. There he told the history of the brewery, which began in 1981 but became official in 1982. Over the course of the tour, with brief visits to view the brewing and bottling rooms, our guide served the beers while weaving an excellent narrative on the process and some history. For instance, I got a new story on the origin of the I.P.A. I like his, so I'll keep it. When the British were occupying India, supply ships were regularly delivering necessities to the troops, and in the ships was beer. The regular ales could not make the journey, so someone decided to add hops and increase the alcohol. The greater the alcohol content, the less volume needed to be shipped, and hops served as preservative. Thus, the India Pale Ale was born: strong with a real kick of hops.
Honestly, the beers aren't great. The IPA is nice, but nothing special. My notes follow: copperhook (spring seasonal)- bland, must use rice, practically no flavor; blonde ale- 20% yeast, 80% barley, session beer.
After my cousins could stand no more boring minutes wasting, we moved on. That afternoon I was unable to visit the Pyramid Brewery due to construction, but the pub was open. I soon decided that the Pyramid Thunderhead IPA was better than the Red Hook- with a keener balanced flavor along with more hops. The MacTarnahan's Amber Ale and the Draught Pale Ale are the same beer, except the latter is nitrogenated.
Guinness is the most famous icon of nitrogenated beer. Rather than infusing extra carbon dioxide (what all other beers employ for that extra carbonation on top of what is produced during fermentation), the more expensive nitrogen oxide gas is piped in. My uncle and I determined that the final carbonation creates an almost artificially smooth mouthfeel (too smooth, with carbonation that is just too fine for the heavier brew), however the beer remains balanced. The head is satiny, rather than the MacT's chewy feel. We concluded that NO2 (sorry if I'm getting my nitrogens confused) is a challenge to any beer, and that not all can pass the test. This one almost does. And that's not bad at all.
Next, Paul Allen's Science Fiction Museum is just fabulous. Displays from his personal collection, along with donations I presume, create a funky and seamlessly interesting layout. The museum is about six open rooms over two floors. A plethora of memorabilia, some might say historically significant through the lens of scientific advances, chronologically displays how science fiction has maintained a lead, in terms of creativity, imagination, and skepticism, ahead of, well, applied science.
The generous arena of science fiction and fantasy has served as breeding ground for prophetic conjecture as well as a safe haven for radical thought. The freedom of conceiving a future allows authors to experiment with pertinent political protest and social re-engineering, for example. Furthermore, an impressive history of feminism and equal footing within these media genres highlights the minds involved in the realm of sci-fi as progressive. Through the displays, first edition books sit next to a plaque with an excerpt exploring homosexuality and the nature of gender (in mid twentieth century literature!), or a tyrannical government with a genesis and development eerily similar to one at the time of publication. There is a section on the evolution of technology following in the footsteps of science fiction's conceptions: nanotechnology, for example.
My cousin had to tear me away from the literature section. He wanted me to see the science fiction and fantasy weapons, collected from films and television programs. The weapons and gadgets remind how no matter how visionary these designers are, they just can't guess very far ahead. The Star Trek communicators from the original series were the size of clockradios.
Near the exit, the items that must have inspired making a museum to store this stuff, stand in separate glass displays. A television plays the fight from Aliens between Ripley and the queen over and over. Inside one case is the metal power lifter Ripley operates, which although huge, is shorter than I imagined. Next to that case is the queen Alien. Not a PG monster. That thing gave me nightmares as a kid. Fortunately for those under 17 perusing the museum, the robots and costumes of all the villains look far less organic than on screen.
We watched the fight scene about three times and exited. The sun was shining and it was a perfect day to walk around the little fairgrounds outside the complex. There are big rides and kiddie rides, a ferris wheel and bumper cars, cotton candy vendors too. We meandered, snacked, bought some tickets, and discussed the problems with the outdated Monorail.
The touristy transport was built for the World's Fair that Seattle hosted in 1962, and is still the fastest monorail in the country. To this I wonder, how many monorails are there? Three? Four? From what I gather, only nostalgic stubbornness and local pride keep the faulty rails running. The city estimated that the system requires at least five million dollars in repairs (the original construction cost only 3.5). Since 2004, accidents include two trains crashing, which isn't common, another suddenly bursting into flames (merely smoking the tourists inside), and many stalled engines. And it's an eyesore. Sorry Seattlians.
After a few rides it was time to head back to pack, and hit the road again.
previous travel blog entry
Would you like to comment or ask a question?
Sign up for a free account, or sign in (if you're already a member).