To say I’m a fan of Twin Peaks is something of an understatement. An ex-boyfriend introduced [...]]]> I finished my roadtrip with a journey into the interior of Washington State. Around 40 minutes’ drive from Seattle lie the towns of Fall City, Snoqualmie and North Bend, all used during the filming of David Lynch’s Twin Peaks TV series.

To say I’m a fan of Twin Peaks is something of an understatement. An ex-boyfriend introduced me to it at university and I’ve returned to it constantly since. I’m a Lynch fan anyway, but something about Twin Peaks stands apart for me, possibly because the atmosphere it evokes echoes very closely the place in which I grew up in the north of Scotland (lots of trees, lots of grey skies, although no handsome FBI agents, sadly).

I’m not going to start analysing TP, but I can say that I was pleasantly surprised to discover that the location holds all of the atmospheric magic that comes across on screen. There’s a dividing line somewhere on Highway 202, after which I felt a change in the environment that made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. First, it gets gloomier, the sky more melodramatic. The dull suburban landscape of the Seattle hinterlands is replaced by mountainous countryside, and as you divert from the highway onto the back roads around Fall City, you notice what made FBI agent Dale Cooper stop in his tracks on his first approach to Twin Peaks: Douglas Firs. Magnificent, swooping evergreen trees that add majesty and menace to the landscape.

I drove on to North Bend, site of Twede’s cafe, which was used as the Double R Diner in Twin Peaks. The original building burned down a few years ago (things seem to burn down frequently in this area, adding a nice little link to the ‘fire walk with me’ theme of the series). The current owners milk the connection by supplying coffee in Twin Peaks mugs, and the compulsory slice of cherry pie. Both the coffee and the pie were excellent, but I was disappointed not to find Norma or Shelly serving behind the counter. Twede’s is staffed by young men who listen to death metal in the kitchen. They’re fearsomely polite though. My server repeatedly referred to me as ‘ma’am’, which I kind of liked. There were a bunch of snotty local high street kids drinking malt shakes in there. I think they cottoned on that I was a tourist, and I could hear them talking about some of the old characters in Twin Peaks. The back wall of the diner is covered in memorabilia – some beautiful photos of the actors resting between sets and messing around in the diner, as well as many interesting newspaper clippings.

Damn fine.

Buzzing neon.

Twede’s cafe/Double R Diner

After my slice of pie I doubled back to Snoqualmie, which is the home of the magnificent waterfalls that feature heavily in Twin Peaks. In a moment of madness I’d booked myself into the Salish Lodge at the top of the falls, the exterior of which is used to represent the Great Northern hotel, run by TVs greatest crook, Benjamin Horne. There were no members of the Horne family in evidence at Salish Lodge, just obsequiously polite staff (American servers are incredibly polite anyways, but when you’re spending a lot of money they really lay it on with a trowel). Once I’d checked in I had time to observe the falls from my window, and then to wander out to the observation deck to look at them more closely. They are over 100 feet taller than Niagara, and the noise the water makes as it hits the bottom is intense. There’s an almost smoke-like quality to the spray that rises from the pool. I peered closely and saw a lone swimmer – a tiny figure barely visible in the dark waters. He tried to get close the torrent but couldn’t manage it, and in the end resorted to basking on the rocks. I wonder if Agent Cooper ever took a dip?

Great Northern/Salish Lodge

View of the falls from my room.

Snoqualmie itself is satisfyingly weird. There’s a railway museum with some excellent burnt out old rail cars and a log that would give the log lady something to think about. I spent longer than necessary hovering the bookstore listening to a truly extraordinary conversation between the owner and a young man. I didn’t get the entire gist, but the old man was reminiscing about his time as a reporter during the Vietnam war and both praising and berating the young man for deciding to become a journalist. “You knew what you were signing up for,” he muttered ominously at one point.

“My log saw something.”

I snooped around the back streets, finding an intriguing crime scene behind the hairdressers and buying some unironic owl mementoes in the hardware store. The man behind the counter was completely deaf, and also slightly doolally. He rung up my purchases three times, giving his wife plenty of time to welcome me to the area and to encourage me to head out on some of the mountain trails. Snoqualmie is dominated by Mount Si to the east, and the actual Twin Peaks to the north. They hover in the skyline, sort of inviting you at the same time as making you nervous. I bought some maps even though I knew I’d have no time for trekking.

Snoqualmie crime scene: but where’s the sheriff?

My evening was spent in disgusting luxury: lounging in the spa, drinking very pleasant local wine and eating local cheeses. I fell asleep to the sound of the falls and the crackling of logs from the open fireplace in my room. Everything about the lodge (even the fact that it’s called a lodge) was reminiscent of Twin Peaks: from the carpets with native American design to the wood panelling in the corridors. No one pushed a note under the door during the night and I wasn’t served a glass of milk by a shaky octogenarian, but perhaps that was just as well.

The next day I went hunting for other famous Twin Peaks locations. I got lost looking for the building used as the Sheriff’s department, but I did manage to find the Sheriff, skulking in his car in an empty car lot at the top of a very steep hill. As soon as I arrived he started up his car and drove off in a hurry, perhaps off to an assignation with the bookhouse boys.

I did manage to find the building used as the Roadhouse, which lies at a junction in North Bend. It’s still called the Roadhouse, but seems to be some kind of upscale restaurant. I had a quick nose about but by this time I was running late and had to cut short my investigations.

The Roadhouse

As I rejoined the highway I had a sudden sense of loss. Just as the atmosphere had changed when I crossed some invisible line on arriving, so the feeling left me as I moved away. While I was there I told myself to enjoy the experience as much as possible because it was unlikely I’d ever come back. Now I’m not so sure. Aside from its association with a rather bizarre old TV series, it’s a place worth visiting for its own sake. I’ve put the maps up on my wall to ponder.

1. I’m a raucous drunk.2. I used to kill rabbits with myxomatosis on the way home from school, until I misjudged a blow and [...]]]> I’ve been tagged by the Hank Moody of magical realism, the wondrous, intellectual, sexbeast Don Felipe (is that enough ass kissing for you, my little pretty?) to write six random things about me.

1. I’m a raucous drunk.
2. I used to kill rabbits with myxomatosis on the way home from school, until I misjudged a blow and made one scream (you do not want to hear a rabbit scream).
3. My favourite character in Twin Peaks is Albert Rosenfield, because of this quote:

“You listen to me. While I will admit to a certain cynicism, the fact is that I am a nay-sayer and hatchet man in the fight against violence. I pride myself in taking a punch and I’ll gladly take another, because I choose to live my life in the company of Gandhi and King. My concerns are global. I reject absolutely revenge, aggression, and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love. I love you, Sheriff Truman.”

4. Princess Diana once scowled at me and then looked away. I was five. (Princess of Hearts, my arse.)
5. I know for certain that God has a sense of humour.

I am tagging Kel D.