I just read Scott's latest post about Mikey, a supposedly adorable liftie who lives in Enumclaw, which reminded me of my trips through Enumclaw. I've never been to Crystal, where Mikey works, but I have been mountain biking in Greenwater. I don't have much to say about mountain biking in Greenwater other than to say that it fuckin' rocks. If you look through my archives, though, you should find a picture of one of the trips.

I also don't have much to say about Enumclaw other than that it seems like a nice enough place, green and bucolic in a way that's immediately interesting to a kid who grew up in Arizona. It's that godawful Muckleshoot Indian Reservation that bugs me.

In Arizona the Indian reservations are (1) very large and (2) instantly identifiable. Neither is true about the Muckleshoot reservation. As you drive up from Auburn, you pass through a large stand of suburban ranchettes and fresh-faced kids selling cherries, then WHAMMO! it's broken-down trailers and a shitload of fireworks. I've got nothing against fireworks (that's why God made Wisconsin, doncha know?), but the reservation does make for a disheartening spectacle.

The other thing I remember about my trips through Enumclaw was the anti-abortion protest outside one of the mega-churches there. None of the pictures I took of the protest came out, but just imagine dozens of Class A motorhomes bedecked with 20-foot-high posters of aborted fetuses. You just knew that had Fred Phelps had not been busy heckling AIDS victims, he would have been busting his move in Enumclaw.

And another thing, where in the hell does Mikey get his gear? Wait, I take that back. Must be those Muckleshoots again. Where fireworks lurk, Deca can't be far behind.