"And suddenly I saw the Northwest was a great deal more than the little vision I had of it of Japhy in my mind. It was miles and miles of unbelievable mountains grooking on all horizons in the wild broken clouds, Mount Olympus and Mount Baker, a giant orange sash in the gloom over the Pacific-ward skies that led I knew toward the Hokkaido Siberian desolations of the world. I huddled against the bridge-house hearing the Mark Twain talk of the skipper and the wheel-man inside. In the deepened dusk fog ahead the big red neons saying: PORT OF SEATTLE."
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