My brother, his girlfriend, my cousin and I all went down to Bellingham's Secret Beach today. Much like the secret beach in Federal Way, there is a giant driftwood fort. That's where the similarities end. This beach extends forever in all directions, with no gross port boats in your way - literally, it's just you, the beach, and the rest of the bay. During low tide you can walk out onto the muddy dunes until you're almost a half mile away from the 'real' beach. Dogs love it, they go mad chasing the seagulls and often attempt to swim the impassable current out to the other sandbars.
About this fort, though. Before the police came and tore it down with chainsaws, it had two stories and multiple rooms. Brent showed me the extent of the fort -- it covered more ground than the house I'll be living in next year does. All sorts of inspiring phrases are written on the different pieces of driftwood - some are also painted in exotic colors. Locals who built the fort are currently working on resurrecting it - one large room is finished so far, lashed down with wires - and in the meantime, a sign dedicates the site "In Loving Memory of The Villa".
Basically, I love that place. Someday a dear, close friend of mine will find access to a car, and we'll drive all around Bellingham together, exploring and discovering all these fantastic locales. I don't know who this lovely friend will be, but in the meantime, Brent will do.
I need to: eat at Diego's, rediscover the route to the beach, stand in awe of the expensive mansions along the way, find Brent's pink house, and fire-bake hot dogs next to the ocean. Next week Elaina and I will try to arrange a BBQ at Lake Padden, and if that doesn't work, I'm going kayaking.