Day 7: Seattle

In Seattle, we were staying in the area called Fremont.  It's just north of the canal that connects Lake Washington to the Puget Sound.  It also has a very nice brewery called Fremont Brewing.  Molly and I visited Fremont when we first came to Seattle and enjoyed it very much (and have a connection there, as well).  Today we noticed this car:

The story we were told is that a few off-duty police officers started joking to the owner of Fremont that he should get a "Beer Patrol" car as part of his marketing, and eventually convinced him to do so.  When he protested that it's a felony to impersonate a cop, they simply cleared it with every level of local and state law enforcement, and then started designing the paint job for Fremont.  So you end up with the Beer Patrol car, "To Ferment and Serve".

Hey, what do you know, Seattle is still grey and rainy!

The Fremont Brewery.  Many good beers were drunk here.  Also, since Molly and I have discovered that we have differing views on neon lights (Me:  Pro in tasteful configurations, Her: Anti.  Period.) I'm trying to collect photos of nice neon to bolster my case.

The view from the front of Fremont.  Boats, water, hills.  Not that I need to tell you guys that I love these things, but I do.

Also, the last time we were in Seattle, we were taking by our friend Henry to Capitol Cider, a bar specializing in fermented apple juice.  Their kitchen is also completely gluten free, but unlike every other place that caters to, as we call them, "The Gluten Frees", it doesn't proclaim this loudly on every aspect of their menu; it just happens to be that way.  On Monday nights, there is live music in the basement, starting with a Bossa Nova band that then MCs a free form jazz jam/musical potluck session until late in the evening.

The last time we went, our bedtime was very early (we were still in the "bike all day, sleep all night" mode), but this time we were determined to stay up until closing time.

There is shuffleboard in the basement.  I love shuffleboard, but am TERRIBLE at it.  Which makes me sad.

This man sings, evidently, at every Monday night.  We were told when he first started, it was not that pleasant to watch or hear, but he has improved steadily, and is now a singing, scatting bad-ass.

We got back to our hotel around 3AM, a little tipsy and very tired, but had a great time.  This was our third day in a row of starting drinking a little to early and ending it a little too late.  Life is hard when you're funemployed.