Looking like a bird of paradise, with panniers bulging, I wobbled off along Highway 3, a fine, smooth stretch of asphalt with a decent hard shoulder, cutting through a varied forest and alongside stretches of water. Forgot to ask to be returned to my pick-up point, so I'll just have to say my trip started in Belfair, which is actually further west than Seattle. Just wanted to keep my head down, concentrate on my average and not think too much, allowing the old grey matter to turn to cheese, a foodstuff it's quite happy to imitate. Stopped to introduce my behind to the delights of Chamois Cream and saw my first American wildlife in the shape of a small green and black snake at the roadside. Stopped for a latte at a deli serving 'thumbprint cookies' in Shelton, famous for its xmas tree industry. Caffeine-fired and candy-charged, continued on to the Freeway. Freeway, Highway, Interstate, Schminterstate. Still confused by it all and even though I have complete faith in Dan's directions (with distances I can check against the micrometer) I have no faith in following them and had to stop to ask people on porches if I was going the right way.