Flutie says:

This walk was a lot of fun, one reason being that it begins just past the nerdily-named ‘Boeing Perimeter Road’, which reminds me of my favorite road-naming story ever!

Stu says: Are we supposed to have a favorite road-naming story? If so, mine is Boeing Perimeter Road.

Flutie: Sigh

Stu: It’s precise!

Flutie: How about I walk north and you walk south? (Indeed, this is a loop trail so you can separate if need be).

Now, back to my story: When I was a teenager, I worked after-school at the Department of Planning and Land Use in San Diego County. Most days I simply filed these big, numbered case files, but every once in a while they’d ask me to cover phones, which was more fun. So on this day, I went to cover phones and a call came in which the girl across from me picked up.

Jeannette: “Department of Planning and Land Use, may I help you?”

Slight pause.

J: “Excuse me, what?”

Another pause, then an outburst of laughter.

J: “Do you know which department that would be?”

Muffled laughter.

J: “OK, can you say that one more time?”

More outright laughter now, downright unconstrained.

Jeannette soon convulsed so openly she’d dropped the phone. Frantically she motioned for ME to take over the call. I jumped on and said,

“Department of Planning and Land Use, how may I assist you today?”

And the lady on the other end of the phone, sounding nervous and trembly, said,

“Is this someone new? OK, well, I was given the name of a person to call about the road in front of our home, see, but it says, I’m sorry, …it’s just…I think I’m trying to reach a Harry Poo?”

And of course here I burst out laughing, too.

“Who?” I asked, unable to believe I’d heard correctly.

“I was told by your building inspector to call a Harry Poo!”

Now manic laughter washed over me as well.

Just then Jeannette realized who the caller was trying to reach, and somehow she composed herself long enough to jump back on the line.

“Are you trying to name a street, ma’am?” she asked, still chuckling.

“Yes, yes, we’ve built a new home out here and Frank, our inspector, said to call in and speak to a Harry Poo about filing the paperwork.”

At last, mystery solved! For the man in charge of formalizing county street names at that time was named Larry Pugh (said Pew).  If you’re still out there, Mr. Pugh, please know that we laugh alongside you, not at you.

Stu: I thought we were supposed to write something about our walk. This Narbeck Trail. What can I possibly add to a harry poo?

Flutie: The whole point is not that I dictate what you write, Stu, but that you put to stone whatever comes freely into your mind, so that one day your children and grandchildren will know what on Earth you thought about! Where we went, what we did, whether it was worth all this time and effort. Sigh.

Stu:

 

Flutie: Ok, back to the walk. This one’s a gem. A hidden gem tucked right next to the sprawling Boeing complex in Everett, so if you need to visit someone at work or take relatives to the nearby airport, this would make an excellent little car stretch.

It begins with the most wonderful carved park entrance I’ve ever seen…look!

Then you come upon this and yikes:

Stu: That’s how you’re going out, Flutie, certainly!

Flutie: “Don’t I know it! I’ll have my neck ripped open by owl talons…won’t that be a fine piece of cake! You’ll have to explain that to people for the rest of your life. Think about the details they’ll want – you need to pay close attention, Stu! At the very least take a picture of me being loaded into the ambulance so you can finish this blog.”

Stu: “Can I just write, ‘Goodbye, Flutie!’”

Flutie: “‘Owl always love you!’ would be more apt, don’t you think?”

Now – back to the walk. I began this trek fiercely alert, attune to every noise and nuance beneath the flocked, ghost-like trees. I’ll admit I heard myself whispering, “Was that an owl?” every twenty paces or so, to which Stu usually replied, “No, that was residual noise from the Boeing Perimeter. A motorcycle. Keep going.”

Even with such tension, everything about this place is kind of oddly wonderful – the zoo-like ‘viewing’ area you stumble upon;

the scintillating signage here, there, and everywhere;

plus the snarkiest memorial bench I’ve ever come across:

I mean, what family member approved this? He’s the FATHER of these wetlands, and she’s…nothing? And then that quote! Who do you think said that to whom over and over in their marriage…he to her, or her to him? Ugh –  I sense a lot of back story!

Stu: What would it say on our snarky memorial bench? “People who borrow hairbrushes should return them to the drawer from whence they came.”

Flutie: I’m going to ignore that. The entire walk here is short, just shy of two miles, but ideal for kids. If you’re a mom with little ones, head over asap – there’s hours of free entertainment, plus plenty of benches for you to park upon while you watch the kids find frogs, huckleberries, feathers, birds, dragonflies….I think even the grandparents will like this place! I give it an 8 out of 10, with mark downs for street noise from Boeing and potentially aggressive critters.

PS  – Case in point. Actual scene witnessed at picnic tables near restroom:

Grandma: smiling proudly as three little boys watch a caterpillar shimmy slowly across the biggest boy’s grubby palm, all wide-eyed with delight.

Oldest boy: suddenly squishes hand closed, bops clenched fist mightily with other hand, then opens palm to drop dead, smooshed caterpillar nonchalantly onto grass.

Grandma: (now gasping in horror) “Why did you do that?”

Boy, shrugging: “It’s fun.”

Grandma, bending down to eye them all with great seriousness: “We don’t squash living things for fun, boys!”

Boy, shrugging again: “Today we do!”