Yesterday Danielle called me earlier in the morning, jaybe around 8:00, to touch base on when we would meet up in Seattle and then go check out the tunnels and secret passageways—which, as it happens, Danielle herself sent me
the 2018 Seattle Times article about them. She sent me that well before the pandemic, with the suggestion that we go check all these places out sometime. I loved the idea, but then we took some time to get around to it, and then of course, stay-home orders started. But, three years down the road from that, I came up with my "Hidden Gems" theme for Birth Week 2023, and I decided this would be the perfect thing for Danielle and me to do now.
I told Danielle I was pretty flexible, which was true: yesterday I had no separate plans in the evening. The only real time constraint was that I knew a lot of these areas have historically only been accessible during standard office hours on weekdays—especially the tunnel between Rainier Square and Union Square. So, we'd want to get started at least a couple of hours before 5:00.
Given a choice I'd have preferred to start earlier than that, and I told her: 11:00 a.m. would be great. Danielle was amenable to that at first, but then shortly after that conversation, she called me back to say she was going to do some yard work and so she'd be here in Seattle around noon.
This was after she even said, at first, "Eleven o'clock, so, realistically 11:30." I told Shobhit she said that, and then added, "So that probably really means noon." Shobhit was like, "Yep." We are both well aware that, to put it diplomatically, punctuality is not one of Danielle's strengths.
After she said the yard work would bump her to around noon, she said she would text me when she's heading out. And to my credit, I waited very patiently—and thought later that, in retrospect, perhaps I should have checked in with her earlier. Because it got to 12:35, and she still hadn't even texted me that she was headed out. I tried to call her at that point, and there was no answer. It occurred to me that she could have been in the shower, or even still doing yard work not paying attention to the time. I waited another nine minutes, and texted her at 12:45.
I finally got a response at 1:00:
Just got out of the shower. Got ahead of myself and didn't pay attention to time. Should be out the door in no more than 15 min. She then texted me that she was leaving at 1:24. I knew there was no chance now she'd be arriving any earlier than 2:00. She got to my garage, able to park in our spot because Shobhit was out with his car, at 2:13.
Honestly, this kind of stuff makes me wonder if I should reassess the idea of doing more travel with her—we haven't traveled together since our two trips in 2019, and on the one hand I had a great time on both trips, but on the other hand they were also kind of a mixed bag. Danielle really bristles at any strict scheduling, and doesn't just find herself behind schedule. She literally de-prioritizes being on time for things, insisting it's better to be chill about everything. And I want to tell myself that I can just shift my thinking for a future trip of some sort with her—we had been talking about going to the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta—and let go of any notions of rigid scheduling. However, some scheduled things cannot be avoided, from flight itineraries (she literally missed our first connecting flight to Vancouver on our way to Toronto in 2019) to, say, wanting to eat at a particular restaurant that requires reservations. I kind of worry about these things. Even the balloon launches at the Albuquerque Balloon Fiesta happen at a particular time rather early in the morning, and I'm not certain I could rely on her being ready to go in time without having to rush—and if I suggest I go ahead of her, it could cause tension. There were even a couple of moments yesterday that came with mild tension, just in regular conversation. Danielle and I have known each other so incredibly long—since we were eleven years old—that sometimes, it's kind of like we're siblings.
It was 2:45 by the time we got to the Capitol Hill Light Rail Station, leaving us about two hours before business hours ended. But, you know what? That turned out to be plenty of time. Which is to say, after everything I detailed above, I really had no reason to get all that annoyed. It all worked out totally fine. In fact, nearly all the passageways were accessible, when I had been concerned that post-pandemic concerns might have closed some of them off. And I had such a great time, it might very well have been the most fun day I've had so far this week. And there has been some stiff competition!
Danielle hung out with me until past 6:00, in fact, and only by that point did she reveal she'd made plans with a potential date at 7:00. She clearly was going to have to follow up with him to tell him she was running behind as well. I was glad to have been the first person in her day plans, at least. That worked out well for me.
I think we were riding an elevator up from one of the tunnels we found to walk through when I said, "I know you're kind of like, just along for the ride. But I'm having a really great time." She assured me she was actually having a good time too. I don't think she was as passionate about the discovery of all this stuff—I truly delighted in finding all these quasi-secret spaces in Seattle yesterday that I had never been to, in the 25 years I have lived in Seattle—but she was having fun regardless. She did admit that she was exchanging texts with no fewer than
four dates and/or potential hookups, but that was fine.
At my suggestion, we took Light Rail down to Pioneer Square Station, and then worked our way back north through Downtown, finding the places marked on the
Seattle Times article's inset map. Our first destination was thus only three blocks or so from the Light Rail Station: the tunnel from Goat Hill Garage through the Chinook Building to the King County Administration Building. Thinking at first that we might enter through the King County Administration Building, we came upon a big sign at the entrance stating the building was closed to the public, open to employees only. Well, so much for that.
But then I led us to the Goat Hill garage, theorizing that a parking garage is a lot more openly public, and maybe we could access a tunnel from that end. And, after wandering into the ground level parking area and finding elevators that don't go down any further, I led us down the staircase next to the building's street entrance, which indeed, finally, took us to the underground tunnel we were waiting for! This was the tunnel passage from Goat Hill Garage to the Chinook Building, passing under 5th Avenue. My favorite thing about this was that it's the same tunnel featured in the top photo on the page for that 2018
Seattle Times article—and is kind of unusually photogenic, as the tunnel is roughly tube shaped. it kind of felt like being on a
Star Wars set.
On the Chinook Building side, it took us some time to figure out how to get back out of there. We went through some empty, white hallways and couldn't find any clear way out, until a guy came out of an elevator that looked like we might need a key card to access, but then he told us we could go in there and go up one level to the building's lobby.
I'm actually thinking now that maybe one day I should go back and look through that tunnel area again. The map indicates tunnels from the Chinook Building over to the King County Administration Building, which we never found but it's entirely possible it would have been closed given the sign at the entrance outside; as well as across Fourth Avenue between the King County Administration Building and the King County Courthouse—although those buildings also have a skywalk for transporting suspects and criminals (that overpass has no windows and looks a lot
like a giant air vent). I just feel now like maybe we were a bit hasty in moving on from there, in spite of my suspicions that we would not have gotten much further given the security in the Administration and Courthouse buildings. It may be worth looking into again when I get the chance.
Anyway, we then walked, outside, from the Chinook Building over to Columbia Center, which—and I did not know this until reading the article—has a pedestrian pathway both to the Seattle Municipal Tower across the street on 5th, and to 800 Fifth Avenue diagonally across both 5th and Columbia.
Figuring it would make more sense to enter from a lower level, I suggested we go down to enter Columbia Center through the 4th Avenue Side. That's also the entrance for the Sky View Observatory, and there were three people sitting at a desk with no line of people waiting to go in, in a large atrium area completely empty of any other foot traffic either. We looked around for any kind of tunnel on our own for a couple of minutes, and then I went over to ask the Sky View Observatory ticket takers if they knew where it was. The one woman there did indeed, and directed us to go one level up.
Danielle and I went over to the nearby elevators, went up one level, and then found the tunnel almost immediately. The curious thing about this was, the lower levels of Columbia Center have historically been a bustling, multi-level food court, and I am sure that if this had been pre-pandemic, we would have seen a lot of people in there. At this moment, however? We were the only ones around.
The tunnel is carpeted and flanked on the walls with a kind of decorative glass. It kind of looks like a hallway in a convention center. We walked to the end of it first, passing the turn about halfway through to go into the Seattle Municipal Tower. I wanted to see the end of it first, where there was a set of elevators that took us up one level, then past a Starbucks toward
the very nice,
multi-level lobby of the 800 Fifth Avenue building, which I don't think I had ever been in—again: totally dead. I think we saw maybe one or two other people walking around. The sense I'm getting is that a whole lot of the office space is now sitting vacant, after the pandemic taught thousands of people that they preferred working from home.
This was especially clear after we went back down to the tunnel to backtrack into the entrance to Seattle Municipal Tower—fourth-tallest in Seattle when I was a teenager, now
fifth, the shortest of our five buildings taller than 700 ft. It's kind of funny to think back to that weekend in 1992 when Auntie Rose led Grandma and Grandpa and me on all these joyriding trips to the
tops of about five different downtown skyscrapers, when I was 16; here we were now, exploring all of their subterranean spaces.
I did remember, though, that back when I used to go to the dentist on the 16th floor of the Seattle Municipal Tower, I discovered the elevator transfer area on floor 40, with its
spectacular south-facing
views—totally publicly accessible, no ticketing or anything. I suggested we do that now, but found signs at the elevators that we needed to get a key card from the security desk for access. Danielle went to ask about it, and according to them, right now all the floors are currently closed from 40 up—up to floor 62 (although according to the Council on Tall Buildings and Urban Habitat, due to the weird way they number the floors in that building, the tower is
actually 57 stories tall—which, incidentally, would make that "40th floor landing" actually 35 floors up, so, whatever). That's a good 23 three floors—nearly half the building—now just going unused.
So, then we walked the five and a half blocks up 5th Avenue to the 5th Avenue Theatre, right next to which is an unassuming, easy-to-miss, small staircase down to an entrance to the pedestrian tunnel I have long been very familiar with and been down to many times, although I haven't been since long before the pandemic: the tunnel that stretches from Rainier Square to Union Square, covering three blocks and passing under two different streets (5th and 6th). This tunnel had been closed a while for
two reasons: the pandemic, of course; and even before that, the massive construction and renovation of the whole Rainier Square block, including Rainier Square Tower, now the second-tallest building in Seattle.
Rainier Square Tower is done, but plenty is still happening beneath it, it seems. Down that entrance next to the 5th Avenue Theater and to the left, which used to lead straight into the basement levels of Rainier Square, is currently
a dead end—but, with
information signs about what is now apparently called Skinner Hall, apparently a reference to the Skinner Building, which houses the 5th Avenue Theatre. Maybe that's what they're just calling this tunnel in its entirety? Hmm. It looks like
maybe it is. Has that always been what they called it? The Skinner Hall "concourse"? It seems to be the case now: that entrance off 5th Avenue does indeed have a sign right above it: SKINNER HALL. I suppose that makes sense, if the Skinner Building is the one in the center, with Rainier Square and Union Square on either side.
Anyway, clearly there was still some construction going on, and we went down one more level and turned to the left, where Danielle convinced me to follow her past a barrier and through a door where we encountered
a bunch of scaffolding. Clearly within the next year or so, enough renovation will have been done down there for the same ease of access across the concourse as it once had.
As it was, we were still able to walk the concourse the other direction, on over to Union Square, where I used my timer to get
a shot of us at a fireplace in a common area on the way up some escalators. This entire passage sort of includes the Convention Center's old "Arch" building, although it does necessitate a brief outdoor walk between the lobby of Two Union Square and the second-floor entrance to the Convention Center. That outdoor passage is not at street level, at least, and is basically part of the north end of Freeway Park.Once inside the Convention Center, we took the escalator down to the ground level, on which i got a spectacular selfie with Danielle.
The left one last destination: the indoor route from Pacific Place to the old Macy's building, which I suspected may not be as publicly accessible as it had been in 2018—and I was right: the doorway Nordstrom used to have from its basement level out onto the Westlake Light Rail Station is now closed off, thus cutting off the longer, indoor path. All we managed to do was get inside Pacific Place—where we did spent a few minutes cracking ourselves up getting this "
LOVELY" picture—and cross the third-floor skywalk over Fifth Avenue. The "tunnel" indicated between Nordstrom, beneath Westlake Center and over to Macy's would all just be the transit tunnel anyway; nothing new or novel there.
By then, Danielle was ready for find a place to eat. She hadn't eaten all day and all I'd had was a bowl of cereal for breakfast. She wanted to go to the waterfront, and we were making our way there when she suddenly decided she wanted to eat at Old Stove Brewery at the Pike Place Marketfront. Seating was a 35 minute wait, and tables just outside on the landing, but still where wait staff would go, was first-come, first-serve seating. This was where Danielle's unself-conscious industriousness came in very handy, as there as a couple of young women at a regular sized table with benches, and Danielle asked if they'd mind sharing the table. "Don't feel bad if you'd prefer not to," she said, very politely, but the two young women kind of just wordlessly scooted over to make room for us.
I then had my second Beyond Burger this week and it was delicious. The patties never are, frankly. In both cases it was the sauces that made the burgers delicious. I ordered salad with this one and the salad was very tasty. And, similar to Alexia's and my experience at Frolik Kitchen on Thursday, I was nearly done with my food before the drinks finally came. The cocktail I had was . . . fine. I had already made both Danielle and me tumblers full of Moscow Mules, each with four shots of vodka, to drink while we walked around downtown, and I had finished mine a while earlier.
Danielle and I walked back to my place together, up Pine Street to Capitol Hill, and she only came to the condo long enough to change out of her tennis shoes and back into her flip flops. She then drove home, and Shobhit, having been fairly successfully speaking to people about his campaign at Volunteer Park, came home shortly after, the parking space now free for him to do so. We had two episodes of
The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel to catch up on.
I was then up until around 12:30, for some reason not getting tired while I was already obsessively researching ideas for the theme I have already chosen for Birth Week 2024! (At the suggestion of a broker last year, the next them will likely be islands. I'm having fun finding unusual and distinctive ones in the region to check out.)
[posted 11:23 am]
