2018--Idaho & Montana
Prologue, Sunday, July 15, 2018
This was going to be very different vacation from the one I envisioned when we got back from the Bahamas in 2017. Maybe very different is misleading. We are still planning on going to the same places and doing mostly the same things. The big, very noticeable difference is that we are taking Margo’s sister, Jackie,with us.
Jackie now lives with us. Margo’s mom had a debilitating stroke on August 31, 2017. Our, Mine, Margo’s, Jackie’s, and certainly Margo’s mom, reached one of the points where your life veers in a direction you never imagined. Or, maybe, as in my case, never had the courage to imagine. Because, when you think about it, it should have been very easy to imagine something happening to Patty long before Jackie would die. The question of “Then what?” would have asked itself. Not a lot of options at that point in the imagination game, and here we are.
Jackie tried to live by herself for about six weeks. But “live by herself” was a canard. As soon as Margo got off work, around 1:30 PM, Mon-Weds, she would go pick her up. She would do the same in the mornings on most of the other four days. So with respect to waking hours, she was already spending more time with us than in the apartment.
I kidded myself that she would be able to live on her own. But, that fell apart. She is paranoid about her neighbors. She thinks they are going to kill her. She if afraid to go outside after dark. She will not clean up after herself, unless nagged. She will not clean up after her cats (I took the dog in the day after the stroke). She will not shower unless told to. She misses her meds. Those are just the day to day things. She has to have doctor’s appointments and appointments with social services people managed. It is endless. Having to do all of that from another residence was impossibly difficult. Margo convinced her she had to move in with us.
This was one of those family obligation things. We really didn’t have a choice. I have heard horror stories about mentally disabled relatives coming to live with family, so in that respect we have it pretty easy. Jackie is like having a well behaved, but incredibly lazy 10 year old. All she does is sit in her chair and either watch TV or do crafts. She cooks for herself while Margo and I are at work, but that’s it. She is dependent on us for everything else.
To be fair, she was dealt a terrible hand. I have no idea if when she was conceived her fate was to be mentally handicapped, or if she suffered some sort of event in the womb or at birth. Her older full brother, is also mentally off. He is fully functional, and probably has above normal IQ. But he is also at least a borderline sociopath and weird. He was the kid everyone made fun of in school. So maybe it was inherited.
Margo’s family never had a lot, and as such vacations were a luxury that only manifested themselves in trips to visit family. Now that Jackie is living with us, and we are responsible for her, she is invited to go on our vacations. This year we are going to Washington State, Idaho, and Montana. For me, it is a chance to tick Idaho off my list, and strengthen Montana. I also get to tick parasailing and hot air balloon ride off my bucket list. Margo just enjoys going to new places and doing new things. Jackie is very excited about the hot air balloon ride.
So, obviously the last 11 months, which included three travel trips, Bahamas, Eclipse, and Las Vegas, all of which were needed, have been a big change. So when I say that this trip is going to be very different from what I envisioned over a year ago, you know why.
Jackie now lives with us. Margo’s mom had a debilitating stroke on August 31, 2017. Our, Mine, Margo’s, Jackie’s, and certainly Margo’s mom, reached one of the points where your life veers in a direction you never imagined. Or, maybe, as in my case, never had the courage to imagine. Because, when you think about it, it should have been very easy to imagine something happening to Patty long before Jackie would die. The question of “Then what?” would have asked itself. Not a lot of options at that point in the imagination game, and here we are.
Jackie tried to live by herself for about six weeks. But “live by herself” was a canard. As soon as Margo got off work, around 1:30 PM, Mon-Weds, she would go pick her up. She would do the same in the mornings on most of the other four days. So with respect to waking hours, she was already spending more time with us than in the apartment.
I kidded myself that she would be able to live on her own. But, that fell apart. She is paranoid about her neighbors. She thinks they are going to kill her. She if afraid to go outside after dark. She will not clean up after herself, unless nagged. She will not clean up after her cats (I took the dog in the day after the stroke). She will not shower unless told to. She misses her meds. Those are just the day to day things. She has to have doctor’s appointments and appointments with social services people managed. It is endless. Having to do all of that from another residence was impossibly difficult. Margo convinced her she had to move in with us.
This was one of those family obligation things. We really didn’t have a choice. I have heard horror stories about mentally disabled relatives coming to live with family, so in that respect we have it pretty easy. Jackie is like having a well behaved, but incredibly lazy 10 year old. All she does is sit in her chair and either watch TV or do crafts. She cooks for herself while Margo and I are at work, but that’s it. She is dependent on us for everything else.
To be fair, she was dealt a terrible hand. I have no idea if when she was conceived her fate was to be mentally handicapped, or if she suffered some sort of event in the womb or at birth. Her older full brother, is also mentally off. He is fully functional, and probably has above normal IQ. But he is also at least a borderline sociopath and weird. He was the kid everyone made fun of in school. So maybe it was inherited.
Margo’s family never had a lot, and as such vacations were a luxury that only manifested themselves in trips to visit family. Now that Jackie is living with us, and we are responsible for her, she is invited to go on our vacations. This year we are going to Washington State, Idaho, and Montana. For me, it is a chance to tick Idaho off my list, and strengthen Montana. I also get to tick parasailing and hot air balloon ride off my bucket list. Margo just enjoys going to new places and doing new things. Jackie is very excited about the hot air balloon ride.
So, obviously the last 11 months, which included three travel trips, Bahamas, Eclipse, and Las Vegas, all of which were needed, have been a big change. So when I say that this trip is going to be very different from what I envisioned over a year ago, you know why.
Day One---Sunday, July 22, 2018
I am actually not very happy with myself. I pride myself on details when I plan these trips. I always allow time for what needs to be done, so we can do the things want to do. You have to account for breaks on road trips, allow time for construction, and make sure you are not trying to visit a place when it is closed. But, on this trip I have left us no margin for error.
When I was making plane reservations, way back last spring, I had a choice of a 6:00 AM flight or a 2:00 PM flight. I hate getting up really early, but that is usually what needs to be done on these trips. So a 2 PM flight, being as cheap sounded like a good idea.
I had 4 ½ hours of drive time, and the late plane would touch down at 3:15 PM. That puts us at our hotel at 7:45 PM, allowing for nothing else. Plenty of time for a rest stop or two, dinner and picking up the rental car, right? Not really. I forgot to account for the time zone change, when we drive to Montana, after flying into Washington State.
The math now works, we land at 3:15 PM PDT, but as our destination is in Montana, which is MDT, it is really. 4:15. If you figure 45 minutes to gather luggage and pick up the rental car, you are really leaving at 5 PM. 4 ½ hours later is 9:30 PM. We have to eat, and at least one other stop. Doing that in 30 minutes is nearly impossible. Getting to our hotel before 10 PM now looks like a pipe dream.
Why is 10 PM so important? Well it gives us time to unpack, wind down and get a little sleep before being up at 4 AM to do our hot balloon ride tomorrow morning. In bed by 11:00 PM and we still get 5 hours sleep. Not ideal, but not bad either. And all of that is if there are no major delays due to construction, no problems with the flight, and no problems of any kind that chew up any block of time. Even had I accounted for the time zone change, I still built in next to nothing for error. Not my best work. Lesson learned. I hope it does not cost us too badly, today.
When I was making plane reservations, way back last spring, I had a choice of a 6:00 AM flight or a 2:00 PM flight. I hate getting up really early, but that is usually what needs to be done on these trips. So a 2 PM flight, being as cheap sounded like a good idea.
I had 4 ½ hours of drive time, and the late plane would touch down at 3:15 PM. That puts us at our hotel at 7:45 PM, allowing for nothing else. Plenty of time for a rest stop or two, dinner and picking up the rental car, right? Not really. I forgot to account for the time zone change, when we drive to Montana, after flying into Washington State.
The math now works, we land at 3:15 PM PDT, but as our destination is in Montana, which is MDT, it is really. 4:15. If you figure 45 minutes to gather luggage and pick up the rental car, you are really leaving at 5 PM. 4 ½ hours later is 9:30 PM. We have to eat, and at least one other stop. Doing that in 30 minutes is nearly impossible. Getting to our hotel before 10 PM now looks like a pipe dream.
Why is 10 PM so important? Well it gives us time to unpack, wind down and get a little sleep before being up at 4 AM to do our hot balloon ride tomorrow morning. In bed by 11:00 PM and we still get 5 hours sleep. Not ideal, but not bad either. And all of that is if there are no major delays due to construction, no problems with the flight, and no problems of any kind that chew up any block of time. Even had I accounted for the time zone change, I still built in next to nothing for error. Not my best work. Lesson learned. I hope it does not cost us too badly, today.
Day One---Sunday, July 22, 2018
Denver International Airport: 1:05 PM
I’ll say this for taking an afternoon flight. It was nice to have an easy stress free morning. I got up at 9 AM. We went to Burger King for a leisurely, if blah, breakfast, and still had 45 minutes before we had to leave.
Of course when Jessi dropped us off at the airport, we saw that instead of a lightly populated airport, it looked like the exits of Broncos game, after a loss. Not a lot of smiles on the billions of people around us. But, in fairness the lines, both at the Southwest outdoors counter, the TSA Pre Check line and even the train all moved pretty fast.
Of course when Jessi dropped us off at the airport, we saw that instead of a lightly populated airport, it looked like the exits of Broncos game, after a loss. Not a lot of smiles on the billions of people around us. But, in fairness the lines, both at the Southwest outdoors counter, the TSA Pre Check line and even the train all moved pretty fast.
|
We got some disturbing news as soon as we set down at our gate. The wife of guy Margo used to work with and I used to play ball with was killed by the train that makes the annual pilgrimage from Denver to Cheyenne for Cheyenne Frontier Days.
Cheyenne Frontier Days is a 125 year old rodeo and western event that happens this time of the year, every year. If you have ever seen the movie Eight Seconds, which was the story of rodeo legend Lane Frost, he was killed at Cheyenne Frontier Days when he was gored by a bull. Well, every year a restored steam engine takes a large group of rodeo fans from Denver’s Union Station to Cheyenne. The route it takes goes through Brighton. If we are in town when it happens we try to go down to the tracks to see it. We were at home last night and were in the middle of our preparations for this trip. I heard the steam whistle and thought “Darn it. I wish we were down there” What little bit I heard is the Kelly Yarish, the wife of Steve was struck and killed at the next town south of Brighton, Henderson, CO. It would have happened about 10 minutes after I heard that whistle. I don’t know if she was trying to get a really good picture or video, or what. I imagine I will hear more details. Next year what do you want to bet that the police are at every intersection wasting time trying to prevent people from doing stupid things. I prefer to let Darwin do his work. She was a nice enough person, and I certainly don’t wish dead or even hurt.. But, why was she on the tracks? |
The Denver Post News train coming from Cheyenne Frontier Day, July 2017
|
Day One---Sunday, July 22, 2018
Conclusion
We boarded on time, and left of time. The pilot came on and let us know that cruising time would be just under two hours, which would put us in 15 minutes early. I dared to hope that today might actually work out.
The flight was uneventful, just like you hope every flight is. Jackie didn’t say a word the whole flight, unless Margo, who was seated behind her, asked her a question. Both Margo and Jackie wanted window seats. I told Margo that since it was open seating on Southwest, do it. Sit behind her and I will take the aisle seat in Jackie row. Afterward, we asked Jackie if she liked her first plane ride. She said she liked it, but did not elaborate. That’s Jackie. She rarely says more than a couple of sentences at a time. One to three word replies are her trademark. If she was on fire, she would yell “Hey! Hey! Hey!”, and hope someone came to her resuce
By the time we made the mandatory bathroom break (not being sarcastic), retrieved out luggage (darn near first bags off), got our rental car (supposed to be a Malibu, got a Subaru Forrester, which probably holds more luggage), loaded it, and programmed the GPS, it was almost 5:00 PM MDT. I had hoped to be on the road by five, so I was happy.
I was driving tonight. Margo is great in urban areas. She is patient and cautious. She does not do mountain roads and is a law abiding citizen on the interstates. Me and Sammy Hagar can’t drive 55. As a certain cavalier attitude towards speed limits was in order for today that was right up my alley.
My goal was to go two hours straight stopping and then break for dinner. That should been about De Borgia, MT. We made another 15 miles to St. Regis. But, there was no fast food in sight. I settled for stopping at Jasper’s Restaurant. It ended up taking about 50 minutes to get our meal ordered, cooked, and eaten.
During that meal, that I remember that I needed to call the hotel and alert them we would be in. They were fine with the late arrival, but advised us that the lobby closed at 10:30 PM, so if we weren’t there, they would leave our keys in envelopes at their check in area. Okay, we had 2 3/4 hours until they closed and it was about 2 ¼ hours away. The odds were in our favor, unless something bad happened.
We used up a lot of luck so far this trip, with us getting in early, and so far avoiding any construction delays. I guess because it was Sunday they were not working. We had even gotten confirmation that our balloon flight was a go, based on weather, and we could sleep in for another 30 minutes. Our balloon flight meeting time as 5:45 AM, instead of 5:15, as I had thought. So, I kind of waiting for our luck to run out.
But, you know what? It didn’t. I missed a turn, which cost us about two minutes, but other than that, we were fine. We arrived at just before 10 PM, and were ready for bed, an hour later. I have done five hours of sleep many times, and almost every vacation. I was counting this as a win.
The flight was uneventful, just like you hope every flight is. Jackie didn’t say a word the whole flight, unless Margo, who was seated behind her, asked her a question. Both Margo and Jackie wanted window seats. I told Margo that since it was open seating on Southwest, do it. Sit behind her and I will take the aisle seat in Jackie row. Afterward, we asked Jackie if she liked her first plane ride. She said she liked it, but did not elaborate. That’s Jackie. She rarely says more than a couple of sentences at a time. One to three word replies are her trademark. If she was on fire, she would yell “Hey! Hey! Hey!”, and hope someone came to her resuce
By the time we made the mandatory bathroom break (not being sarcastic), retrieved out luggage (darn near first bags off), got our rental car (supposed to be a Malibu, got a Subaru Forrester, which probably holds more luggage), loaded it, and programmed the GPS, it was almost 5:00 PM MDT. I had hoped to be on the road by five, so I was happy.
I was driving tonight. Margo is great in urban areas. She is patient and cautious. She does not do mountain roads and is a law abiding citizen on the interstates. Me and Sammy Hagar can’t drive 55. As a certain cavalier attitude towards speed limits was in order for today that was right up my alley.
My goal was to go two hours straight stopping and then break for dinner. That should been about De Borgia, MT. We made another 15 miles to St. Regis. But, there was no fast food in sight. I settled for stopping at Jasper’s Restaurant. It ended up taking about 50 minutes to get our meal ordered, cooked, and eaten.
During that meal, that I remember that I needed to call the hotel and alert them we would be in. They were fine with the late arrival, but advised us that the lobby closed at 10:30 PM, so if we weren’t there, they would leave our keys in envelopes at their check in area. Okay, we had 2 3/4 hours until they closed and it was about 2 ¼ hours away. The odds were in our favor, unless something bad happened.
We used up a lot of luck so far this trip, with us getting in early, and so far avoiding any construction delays. I guess because it was Sunday they were not working. We had even gotten confirmation that our balloon flight was a go, based on weather, and we could sleep in for another 30 minutes. Our balloon flight meeting time as 5:45 AM, instead of 5:15, as I had thought. So, I kind of waiting for our luck to run out.
But, you know what? It didn’t. I missed a turn, which cost us about two minutes, but other than that, we were fine. We arrived at just before 10 PM, and were ready for bed, an hour later. I have done five hours of sleep many times, and almost every vacation. I was counting this as a win.
Day Two---Monday, July 23, 2018
4:00 AM still came pretty early, but we were pretty jazzed about the reason for being up. I mean if the boss has said I need you to work by 5 AM, so an hour earlier was when the alarm was suggesting I get up, I would have put up a fight and maybe there would have been an alarm clock injury. But, today, I shut off my alarm before it went off.
We were on the road 10 minutes before I had planned, and arrived 15 minutes earlier than requested. Not only was Kevin Flanagan and his wife, Debbie, already there, so was our other two balloon mates; John and Amanda. Introductions all around and in about five minutes we were loaded up in Team Flanagan’s van. We discovered that daughter, Devin, was curled up asleep in the very back seat. She had been up late with friends who were in town.
We were heading to Spencer and Co Steakhouse. Kevin uses several launch sites around the area, depending on wind. Right before we left Starbucks, our meeting place, Kevin had launched a regular helium balloon to check the wind. It must have drifted at the right speed and direction, as it confirmed his launch location. When we arrived he launched another, and pronounced us at the right spot.
Now we figured that this was going to be a long and laborious set up. It probably was laborious, but it was probably 25 minutes from the time they began dragging the basket and balloon out of the trailer until the point we all very gracefully climbed in the basket.
We were on the road 10 minutes before I had planned, and arrived 15 minutes earlier than requested. Not only was Kevin Flanagan and his wife, Debbie, already there, so was our other two balloon mates; John and Amanda. Introductions all around and in about five minutes we were loaded up in Team Flanagan’s van. We discovered that daughter, Devin, was curled up asleep in the very back seat. She had been up late with friends who were in town.
We were heading to Spencer and Co Steakhouse. Kevin uses several launch sites around the area, depending on wind. Right before we left Starbucks, our meeting place, Kevin had launched a regular helium balloon to check the wind. It must have drifted at the right speed and direction, as it confirmed his launch location. When we arrived he launched another, and pronounced us at the right spot.
Now we figured that this was going to be a long and laborious set up. It probably was laborious, but it was probably 25 minutes from the time they began dragging the basket and balloon out of the trailer until the point we all very gracefully climbed in the basket.
|
They first dragged out the basket and then tipped it on its side. The balloon, which was in its own large bag, which was in turn in a large wheeled cart. The cart was parked in front of the open side of the tipped basket and Kevin attached the lines. Devin helped him string them, but I noticed only Kevin attached and confirmed that they were both on the correct corner, and the carabiner properly attached and locked.
The cart was wheeled away from the basket and the balloon trailed out on the ground being it. When it was out of the basket the three of them began to unroll the balloon to spread it out. Up by the basket, two large fans were set up. They would blow air into the balloon to begin the inflation process. This was normal, unheated air, so it would not cause flight. But, you have to have the air in the balloon to be heated. |
|
On top of the basket is a propane heater that shoots out an impressive jet of flame. Once the balloon was full of air, still on its side, Kevin activated the propane flame three of four times, and the balloon began to rise. It brought the basket into the upright position, but it was not yet strong enough to lift the basket. I imagine that took a goodly amount of experience to get the air just hot enough to lift the basket upright without taking off.
Debbie got us loaded quickly, with aid of a step stool. The three of us, looking like geriatrics and candidates for orthopedic surgery, got in first. The younger John and Amanda looked like gymnasts in comparison. |
|
|
|
The whole time Debbie was whirlwind of activity, telling us about her first balloon ride, taking pictures, with our cameras and phones, and telling us what to expect in the next few minutes. Kevin later said he has been asked what coffee she drinks to fuel such energy. His answer; None. That’s all her.
The launch, which occurred probably a minute after we were in the basket, at 6:19 AM was amazing. I could not really feel us leaving earth. Earth just started to fall away from us and we were all suddenly flying. We went up faster than I expected. It wasn’t like a rocket shot, but it wasn’t slow and gradual either. There might have been some adrenaline, but I could be confusing awe, with that hormone.
Nearly the whole time during the set up and through the launch, either Debbie was keeping a running commentary on what they were doing or they were telling some story or joke. It was a testament to their professionalism that they could both set up a balloon and keep us entertained. I think the most memorable was once we were in the basket, pre-launch, when Kevin was both doing his safety check and maintaining balloon air temp. He started a sentence with “The most important thing to remember” and then activated the propane burner, which was loud and made conversation impossible. So for a lonnnng instant, until my pre-dawn brain kicked in, I was wondering what I missed. Then when the burner was done he was seemingly caught mid-sentence, ending with “especially for you girls” We laughed.
Nearly the whole time during the set up and through the launch, either Debbie was keeping a running commentary on what they were doing or they were telling some story or joke. It was a testament to their professionalism that they could both set up a balloon and keep us entertained. I think the most memorable was once we were in the basket, pre-launch, when Kevin was both doing his safety check and maintaining balloon air temp. He started a sentence with “The most important thing to remember” and then activated the propane burner, which was loud and made conversation impossible. So for a lonnnng instant, until my pre-dawn brain kicked in, I was wondering what I missed. Then when the burner was done he was seemingly caught mid-sentence, ending with “especially for you girls” We laughed.
|
Once airborne, as Kevin had mentioned several times we were at the mercy of the wind as to where we ended up. As I am directionally challenged I had to rely on our pilot to let me know which way we were going, which was south. Later when I looked at Google Maps and found the various landmarks I could remember and recognize, it looks like we went a bit west as well.
It might go without saying that the view was spectacular, but I am definitely going to say it. The view was spectacular? We watched the sun come up over the Glacier National Park. As we drifted, Kevin would change altitudes giving us various looks at the landscape. He had us as high as 2000 feet, and literally at tree level at other times. We actually just scraped the top of a tall pine at one point, which was done on purpose. |
|
|
When were at low level we were encouraged to look for wildlife, we found a few deer, but that was it. No one cared. We did see quite a few Moo-Bears. What, you ask, is a Moo-Bear? Apparently Kevin and his family were on their own aerial adventure. They were also on the hunt for wild life. Debbie kept insisting that she saw a bear and had Kevin keep circling around. Eventually said bear was identified as a shy cow. Devin explained to her mother that what she saw was a Moo-Bear, and that they are all over Montana.
The views of the mountains, which were basically all around us, in the distance, was great. A bit hazy from fires. We passed over Northern Pines Golf Club and followed the path of the Stillwater River. Kevin told us several stories about his time in Colorado. |
He was working his corporate balloon in Aspen. He ended up meeting Kurt Russell and asked him if he knew a local who could be part of his ground team. Kurt asked about what was needed and after Kevin told him Kurt volunteered. For two weeks, Kevin’s ground crew was Kurt Russell.
|
Kevin ended up telling Kurt Russell about the time he had to set his balloon down on Cher’s property. Cher was very accommodating, even letting one woman use the restroom. Soon all the ladies needed to use the restroom, and they all ended up with a tour of the house.
Kurt, upon hearing the store, replied that if Kevin landed on his property, Goldie would cook them breakfast. That ended up happening a few months later. This was after Kurt’s stint on his crew. Several months later Kurt had a group and the wind gods had blessed him with the speed and direction, and it looked like a Russell landing was possible. He had not told any of his balloon guests about this as, really, the odds were less than 50/50. But, as they were getting lower, Kurt Russell meets them on his 4-wheeler and yells up, “Kevin! I thought that was you! His guests were all very impressed and true to his word Goldie Hawn cooked them breakfast. Kevin said they were both very down to earth, and the whole time the celebrity couple and the balloon guests talked about school districts, and other such normal things, with Hollywood not coming up at all. |
|
Kevin has flown balloons all over the world, including spending 8 months in Fiji, helping them to set up a system and protocols for balloonists to fly there He is one of the few to fly over the Grand Canyon. He said he that he tried to get official permission to make the flight, but was told “Not only, No, but Hell, no”. Then the government official added, “It’s a four hour drive to the Grand Canyon (from Las Vegas), and if you think I am getting up to make sure you don’t fly, you’re crazy. Have a nice flight” If ever I have the opportunity to talk to another balloonist, I am going to as if they have heard of Kevin Flanagan, and see what they say. I believe his stories, but he told them in a very humble way, so maybe he is celebrity in that world, I didn’t know it.
Northern Pines Golf Course and Stillwater River
|
|
Our hour flew by. No pun intended. And Kevin was picking out a landing site. As the wind is the deciding factor there were many possibilities. But as Kevin has been flying this area for a while, he had a pretty good idea of where he would end up. He did tell another story about a farmer, whose field he landed in. The guy came running out to the landing site, very concerned about the balloon’s propane burner starting a fire. When Kevin explained to him that he carried a million dollar crop damage insurance policy, the farmer pointed to a field and told him to land there, because that field did not produce well.
But, Kevin’s target was Glacier High School at the south end of Kalispell. I thought that we were going to overshoot, but I’ll bet we touched down within 20 feet of where he intended. The landing was smoother than our airline landing over at Spokane International. The basket touched down with a minimal thump, and then the wind dragged us for 10-15 feet.
But, Kevin’s target was Glacier High School at the south end of Kalispell. I thought that we were going to overshoot, but I’ll bet we touched down within 20 feet of where he intended. The landing was smoother than our airline landing over at Spokane International. The basket touched down with a minimal thump, and then the wind dragged us for 10-15 feet.
|
|
To deflate the balloon, Kevin shot a couple of blasts of raw propane into it. Why? Because that propane is about -44 F. So it cools off the balloon very quickly and it begins to deflate. Kevin is explaining this while he is doing it, controlling descent, and monitoring speed, all at the same time. I guess that is what you are able to do after over 30 years of fly balloons.
As Debbie and Kevin were packing up the balloon, Devin had the task of performing the post flight ceremony, which has been going on for 300 years, back to the time of Montgolfier Brothers. She told us about the early hot air balloon history and then we toasted into the dawning sun.
We thanked Kevin, Debbie, and Devin, and then made our way over to Starbuck. John and Amanda, also decided that was a good idea and we saw them there about the time we were getting our coffees. They asked what we were up to next and we told them about the alpine slide at White Mountain Resort. They seemed to think it a good idea.
As Debbie and Kevin were packing up the balloon, Devin had the task of performing the post flight ceremony, which has been going on for 300 years, back to the time of Montgolfier Brothers. She told us about the early hot air balloon history and then we toasted into the dawning sun.
We thanked Kevin, Debbie, and Devin, and then made our way over to Starbuck. John and Amanda, also decided that was a good idea and we saw them there about the time we were getting our coffees. They asked what we were up to next and we told them about the alpine slide at White Mountain Resort. They seemed to think it a good idea.
We got into the car and set the GPDS to take us to the Buffalo Café in Whitefish. It was about this time that it hit me, we forgot to tip Kevin. Margo and I talked it over for a second and we decided we would send them a card with the tip. Maybe they could put it towards Devin’s first balloon, as she is going to become a pilot herself.
Whitefish was only about 25-30 minutes away, and we found the Buffalo Café pretty easily. I was pleased, so far with the GPS. I had to use a lot longitude and latitude coordinates when I was programing it, because quite a few of our destinations did not have street addresses.
We had a 20 minute wait for breakfast, but once seated the service was pretty quick. We asked Jackie about her balloon ride. She said words to the effect that it was ‘Pretty Cool’. You really have to work to get more than a short statement like that out of her. If she was a true 10 year old, she would be chattering non-stop about this part of the trip or that part. Jackie basically only speaks when spoken to, and then uses the minimum amount of words to answer the question put to her. I don’t know if that is 49 years of training from her mother, or just the way she is. I am trying to work at that with her, but I am no teacher, and I don’t have the time or patients to be effective. The food itself was good. I had their Buffalo Pie. Kind of a skillet scramble. The other two enjoyed their food as well.
We arrived at White Mountain Resort about 10:30 AM, which was pretty much what I had estimated. We bought single ride tickets for the alpine slide, figuring if we really liked it, we could buy more later, and tickets to ride the lift to the top of the mountain.
To get to the top of the alpine slide, they have a free ski lift. We got on that and took a very leisurely tip up part of the mountain. The resort was not busy yet, and it was pretty quiet, even though we were riding past a residential area where new roofs were being put on it.
Whitefish was only about 25-30 minutes away, and we found the Buffalo Café pretty easily. I was pleased, so far with the GPS. I had to use a lot longitude and latitude coordinates when I was programing it, because quite a few of our destinations did not have street addresses.
We had a 20 minute wait for breakfast, but once seated the service was pretty quick. We asked Jackie about her balloon ride. She said words to the effect that it was ‘Pretty Cool’. You really have to work to get more than a short statement like that out of her. If she was a true 10 year old, she would be chattering non-stop about this part of the trip or that part. Jackie basically only speaks when spoken to, and then uses the minimum amount of words to answer the question put to her. I don’t know if that is 49 years of training from her mother, or just the way she is. I am trying to work at that with her, but I am no teacher, and I don’t have the time or patients to be effective. The food itself was good. I had their Buffalo Pie. Kind of a skillet scramble. The other two enjoyed their food as well.
We arrived at White Mountain Resort about 10:30 AM, which was pretty much what I had estimated. We bought single ride tickets for the alpine slide, figuring if we really liked it, we could buy more later, and tickets to ride the lift to the top of the mountain.
To get to the top of the alpine slide, they have a free ski lift. We got on that and took a very leisurely tip up part of the mountain. The resort was not busy yet, and it was pretty quiet, even though we were riding past a residential area where new roofs were being put on it.
|
We barely had to wait to ride the slide. I went first, followed by Jackie. We could see riders as we rode the lift up, and none of them seemed to be going that fast. When I got on, I could see why. The controls are set where you have to push the control bar forward, which takes your weight off the wheels and allows it to go faster. Unless you do that you will hardly move on a downhill, and won’t at all on a flat.
I made my run, able to go as fast as I wanted, but it was work holding the control bar in the proper position. Your arms are not quite long enough to bet good leverage, so you lean forward and put yourself in an uncomfortable position. Then I got off, readied my camera to take Jackie’s picture around the final curve. I waited. And waited. And waited. I walked up to where the resort’s photographer waited. I waited. I waited. I waited. I walked back down to where I was at. Then I waited some more. Finally she made her appearance moving at a pace only a turtle could envy. The final bend was made with her trying to use the concrete embankment as leverage to push herself. I got a terrible picture of her around the bend, and finally she reached the unloading area. She made it, but she did not want to do it again. Really, neither did I. It was OK. I had to sit in an uncomfortable position. It did not go that fast. Plus you had to work too hard to make it go. I did not have to wait nearly as long for Margo. She came around the last turn and unlike me, she was looking up, so both the official photographer and I got a decent picture of her. After she made it to the offloading area, and got off the sled, she was kind of with us. Once was enough. |
|
We went over to the bigger ski lift and had the choice of a gondola or a standard ski lift chair. The little alpine slide lift was a ski lift type and we enjoyed that, so we opted for the unprotected view again. The weather was great. It was not terrible warm yet, comfortable, and there was no wind.
Jackie’s ankle is still bothering her. She had it checked by the doctor about six weeks ago. He gave her instructions to wear a brace and tennis shoes the whole time. She did both about 75% of the time. He also assumed she would be on it some. Her day always consists of moving from somewhere where she can lay down to somewhere where she can sit down. She gets no exercise. I wanted the doctor to hit her with some steroids when she had a follow-up last week. Nope. Set up an appointment for therapy. It’s not going to work. She won’t do the work unless nagged. So the net result is she is limping and really not wanting to do any more walking than absolutely necessary. To a degree I don’t blame her. On the other hand, I had been after her for months about what this vacation would take, physically. I would get “OK” or “That a be fine”.
Margo and Jackie went to find the gift shop and to just wander the top of the mountain. I wanted to get some hiking in. I decided I would hike part of the Danny Oh trail. It’s a four mile trail that is fairly steep. There was no way I could hike even down to the bottom in an hour, let alone back. I decided to just hike about 20 minutes down, and give myself about double the time to get back. That turned out to be about right. I don’t know the altitude at the top of Whitefish Mountain. By guess is around 6,000 feet.
The trail is really just a path. It is at times rocky, but mostly just dirt. It is more than a gentle slope most of the time. Going down was not bad. The biggest challenge was footing. I tried to make sure I was aiming for good solid ground. The last thing I wanted was to go tumbling down the mountain, or even just turning a mountain.
Jackie’s ankle is still bothering her. She had it checked by the doctor about six weeks ago. He gave her instructions to wear a brace and tennis shoes the whole time. She did both about 75% of the time. He also assumed she would be on it some. Her day always consists of moving from somewhere where she can lay down to somewhere where she can sit down. She gets no exercise. I wanted the doctor to hit her with some steroids when she had a follow-up last week. Nope. Set up an appointment for therapy. It’s not going to work. She won’t do the work unless nagged. So the net result is she is limping and really not wanting to do any more walking than absolutely necessary. To a degree I don’t blame her. On the other hand, I had been after her for months about what this vacation would take, physically. I would get “OK” or “That a be fine”.
Margo and Jackie went to find the gift shop and to just wander the top of the mountain. I wanted to get some hiking in. I decided I would hike part of the Danny Oh trail. It’s a four mile trail that is fairly steep. There was no way I could hike even down to the bottom in an hour, let alone back. I decided to just hike about 20 minutes down, and give myself about double the time to get back. That turned out to be about right. I don’t know the altitude at the top of Whitefish Mountain. By guess is around 6,000 feet.
The trail is really just a path. It is at times rocky, but mostly just dirt. It is more than a gentle slope most of the time. Going down was not bad. The biggest challenge was footing. I tried to make sure I was aiming for good solid ground. The last thing I wanted was to go tumbling down the mountain, or even just turning a mountain.
|
Going back up. I couldn’t handle more than 50 yards at a time. Then I had to catch my breath. I used the opportunities to take a few pictures while by blood oxygen returned to something approaching 90, and my heart rate dropped into the low 100s. It was pretty country and I see why so many rich people want summer homes in the area. That still does not make me a mountain goat. It was a very good thing neither Margo nor Jackie tried it. They would not have like this at all.
|
|
I finally made it back to the somewhat level ground at mountain top level. I headed from the restaurant area and found Margo and Jackie. Margo had bought me a water. I was carrying, and had been using my Hydroflask, but a bottle of water sounded good, and drained it pretty quickly. While we were sitting there, a deer made its way down below us, and was munching on the vegetation.
That was really all we had planned for this area. They had zip lines and dry land tubing. No way could Jackie do the zip lining, even if she was inclined. She piped up on the fact that she did not want to do it, when Margo pointed to the people getting ready. This immediately put some doubt into my head about her real desire to do the parasailing. I guess we will find out on Thursday. We found our car and left. |
|
|
|
We wanted to make a quick couple of stops and take a picture of the Lupfer Road sign, just outside of Whitefish. Jessi’s husband is a Lupfer, so we thought it would be neat to show him street signs where his surname is memorialized as the name of a street. There is a Lupfer Ave in Whitefish, which we took a picture of just after breakfast this morning. Now we would drive a few miles outside of town for this, and to see if there was anything left of the Lupfer post office/railway station from the 1920s. There wasn’t. I found the remains of a wooden rail car, which could have dated from that time, and that was it.
|
|
As we drove back through Whitefish, we gassed up and got some ice. Then we drove back towards Columbia Falls to see the Hungry Horse dam. Quoting the US Bureau of Reclamations website on the dam
“Hungry Horse Dam received its name from two freight horses (Tex and Jerry) working in the Flathead River's South Fork area. They wandered away from their logging shed during the severe winter of 1900-01.
After struggling for a month in deep snow, they were found so starved and weak that care and feeding were needed to nurse them back to health. Stunned loggers nicknamed the gaunt survivors the "Mighty Hungry Horses". Jerry later pulled a fire wagon in Kalispell and Tex did similar duty on a wagon for the Kalispell Mercantile Company”
“Hungry Horse Dam received its name from two freight horses (Tex and Jerry) working in the Flathead River's South Fork area. They wandered away from their logging shed during the severe winter of 1900-01.
After struggling for a month in deep snow, they were found so starved and weak that care and feeding were needed to nurse them back to health. Stunned loggers nicknamed the gaunt survivors the "Mighty Hungry Horses". Jerry later pulled a fire wagon in Kalispell and Tex did similar duty on a wagon for the Kalispell Mercantile Company”
In addition to the dam, there is town, and the reservoir behind the dam, named Hungry Horse.
We got there about 3:30 and spent about an hour touring the small visitor’s center and admiring the technology and know how it took to create a hunk of concrete only a bit smaller than the Hoover Dam. It’s a wonder very few have heard of it. I know I had not. It is one of those things you look at, which the word awesome, was designed for.
We got there about 3:30 and spent about an hour touring the small visitor’s center and admiring the technology and know how it took to create a hunk of concrete only a bit smaller than the Hoover Dam. It’s a wonder very few have heard of it. I know I had not. It is one of those things you look at, which the word awesome, was designed for.
|
|
Neither Margo nor Jackie were big on walking across it. It was hot out, somewhere in the mid-90s. I didn’t care. I was going to walk across it and take as many pictures as I could. It was deeply impressed that this could be done at all, let alone with mid-20th century technology. But, when you think about it, the math was there for many decades. The technology was plenty advanced in the areas of earth moving and concrete dumping. Still when you look at the size of it and all the parts that had to come together to not only block the water, but get it to generate electricity, you have to give a lot of kudos to someone.
Margo picked me up on the other side of the dam and we headed in the general direction of our hotel. The plan wasn’t to go back just yet. There is a place in the town of Hungry Horse called The Huckleberry Patch. A huckleberry is a real thing. My previous experience with huckleberries had to do with the cartoon Huckleberry Hound. Anyway, you don’t find huckleberries outside of eastern Washington, Idaho, and Montana. The plant is currently impossible to grow in an agricultural environment. That means that they have to be harvested locally, manually, and the supply is pretty sparse. The Huckleberry Patch specializes in all things huckleberry. I had my eye on a slice of huckleberry pie.
We were there in probably 15 minutes. We were all hot and tired, so the thought of pie ala mode sounded appealing. We had eaten a lunch back on Whitefish Mountain and that was still keeping hunger at bay. This was not about hunger. This was about a cultural experience and one must make sacrifices. We were going to have pie and ice cream. Stomachs be damned.
I really like it. It was a sweeter than blueberries, and had a flavor that was similar. It was a bit on the expensive side though. Three slices of pie, two of them ala mode (Jackie opted out), plus tip was $22. It was kind of worth it.
When I said that they had all things huckleberry that includes your standard souvenirs. Margo and Jackie scoured the store from one end of the other, relieving the owners of about $85 worth of huckleberry related products between them. The one thing they did not get was huckleberry pie filling. I should have gotten some myself, but I was in a wandering mood.
We left and this time our hotel room was our destination. We had had a big day, which had followed a short night. We were all tired and running of fumes. As we all had full tummies, it was a very, super, obvious decision to take a nap. We got our rooms at 5:30. I was asleep five minutes later.
We were all up at 7:00 PM and then made our way to the Nite Owl/Back Room. It was just a few minutes away. Actually since Columbia Falls is a pretty small town, everything is just a few minutes away. They were supposed to make a nice steak, so that is what I ordered. The girls each had ribs. The service was a little on the slow side. Then my steak came out over cooked, but I was not going to let that ruin my night. I have had over cooked steak before, so when the manager came out I told her it was fine. I really did not want to wait. It was OK. Not great, but OK. We finished up at 9 PM
We made one stop on the way back. We stopped at a convenience store and picked up supplies. We went back to the room, I worked on my nightly routine of recording expenses and making notes so I could write out this travelogue. I was in bed by 11 PM.
Margo picked me up on the other side of the dam and we headed in the general direction of our hotel. The plan wasn’t to go back just yet. There is a place in the town of Hungry Horse called The Huckleberry Patch. A huckleberry is a real thing. My previous experience with huckleberries had to do with the cartoon Huckleberry Hound. Anyway, you don’t find huckleberries outside of eastern Washington, Idaho, and Montana. The plant is currently impossible to grow in an agricultural environment. That means that they have to be harvested locally, manually, and the supply is pretty sparse. The Huckleberry Patch specializes in all things huckleberry. I had my eye on a slice of huckleberry pie.
We were there in probably 15 minutes. We were all hot and tired, so the thought of pie ala mode sounded appealing. We had eaten a lunch back on Whitefish Mountain and that was still keeping hunger at bay. This was not about hunger. This was about a cultural experience and one must make sacrifices. We were going to have pie and ice cream. Stomachs be damned.
I really like it. It was a sweeter than blueberries, and had a flavor that was similar. It was a bit on the expensive side though. Three slices of pie, two of them ala mode (Jackie opted out), plus tip was $22. It was kind of worth it.
When I said that they had all things huckleberry that includes your standard souvenirs. Margo and Jackie scoured the store from one end of the other, relieving the owners of about $85 worth of huckleberry related products between them. The one thing they did not get was huckleberry pie filling. I should have gotten some myself, but I was in a wandering mood.
We left and this time our hotel room was our destination. We had had a big day, which had followed a short night. We were all tired and running of fumes. As we all had full tummies, it was a very, super, obvious decision to take a nap. We got our rooms at 5:30. I was asleep five minutes later.
We were all up at 7:00 PM and then made our way to the Nite Owl/Back Room. It was just a few minutes away. Actually since Columbia Falls is a pretty small town, everything is just a few minutes away. They were supposed to make a nice steak, so that is what I ordered. The girls each had ribs. The service was a little on the slow side. Then my steak came out over cooked, but I was not going to let that ruin my night. I have had over cooked steak before, so when the manager came out I told her it was fine. I really did not want to wait. It was OK. Not great, but OK. We finished up at 9 PM
We made one stop on the way back. We stopped at a convenience store and picked up supplies. We went back to the room, I worked on my nightly routine of recording expenses and making notes so I could write out this travelogue. I was in bed by 11 PM.
Day Three---Tuesday, July 24, 2018
Today we would be touring the western half of Glacier National Park. I had planned to do some hiking. Margo was considering it. I did not expect Jackie to, as her ankle had her limping from the moment she started walking. She is going to the doctor when we get home.
We were up at 5 AM and on the road as soon as we were dressed. I was told on multiple websites to get to the Logan Pass Visitor Center, which would be our jumping off point for hiking and our very short term base of operations, early as parking was gone by 8:30 AM.
We were up at 5 AM and on the road as soon as we were dressed. I was told on multiple websites to get to the Logan Pass Visitor Center, which would be our jumping off point for hiking and our very short term base of operations, early as parking was gone by 8:30 AM.
|
We ate a nutritious breakfast of doughnuts, muffins, and granola bars on the way up. Our plan was to not stop at the various overlooks, as they would be there on the way down, when we were not racing to find a spot to park. The drive up until we got past Lake McDonald had lots of trees on both side, so there was not a lot to see. But, once we cleared the lake and started to climb more steeply, the view changed for forest to mountain panorama. Some of the views were really grand, and it was tempting to stop. But the thought of an endless loop around the visitor center parking lot banished those thoughts to the Land of Bad Ideas.
The road we were traveling is called Going to the Sun Road, and is the only way to traverse the park. Its summit is at the continental divide, at Logan Pass. We arrived there about 7:30 AM, and while the parking lot was not full, there were not a lot of parking spots left. We took the first one we saw. I am guessing it would have been full in the next half hour. We immediately started getting me ready for my hike. I was taking a hiking pole and my Hydroflask. Margo decided she was not going to hike. Her foot was bothering her. It had been even before we left. She had seen the doctor on the Thursday before we flew out. The podiatrist recommended surgery. She actually has an appointment to have a bone on her left little toe broken and reset so it grows in the correct direction, eliminating a bump/bunion of that foot. That left me all by myself. But, I wasn’t scared. |
Me with Clements Mountain in the background
|
Clement Mountain
Reynolds Mountain
|
|
|
Logan Pass serves as the trailhead for several trails. I wanted to hike a portion of the Highline Trail and its key feature the Garden Wall. The Garden Wall is really the side of a mountain with a narrow (3 to 8 feet) carved into it. No guard rails. Mountain on one side; 100 foot drop on the other. A cable-type hand rail was provided on the mountain side. The complete trail is something like 14 miles. I did not have the time to do that. I probably could have hiked the length, but getting back would have been a problem. 14 miles of uphill would take me two solid days of torture.
But as I was on vacation, torture was not on the menu. I would hike about a mile and then turn around and go back up hill. The Garden Wall was less than a quarter mile into the hike and it was exactly as I had seen it described. The weather was partly cloudy and probably in the 50s, so really it was nice hiking weather. The scenery was beautiful. It was greener than back home, with obviously more water. Parts of the rocky trail were wet, making attention to footing a top priority. When I got to the Garden Wall I hesitated only long enough to get a decent picture. Then I was off. |
|
I hike more slowly than the other hikers on the trail. They are likely more experience on the uneven terrain, and most were younger. But definitely not all. I saw plenty of hikers who had at least one, if not two decades on me. Good for them. Anyway, I would pull over to a wide spot in the narrow path, and let them pass. It gave me an opportunity to take a picture or three. Then it was off again.
I was on constant lookout for the infamous Glacier National Park wildlife. The area is supposed to have mountain goats, bighorn sheep, and bears. Many people had bear spray holstered like they were on their way to Wild West shootout. Others had bells on their person to make noise. As I was likely the slowest person on the trail, my strategy was to rely on divine providence and to look as unappetizing as possible.
I was on constant lookout for the infamous Glacier National Park wildlife. The area is supposed to have mountain goats, bighorn sheep, and bears. Many people had bear spray holstered like they were on their way to Wild West shootout. Others had bells on their person to make noise. As I was likely the slowest person on the trail, my strategy was to rely on divine providence and to look as unappetizing as possible.
|
|
I cleared the Garden Wall, but I wanted to go further. It wasn’t long before a steep looking decline in the trail, coupled with the time convinced me I had hiked enough of the Highline Trail. I had accomplished what I set out to, and I still had the roughest part in front of me; the basically uphill hike back.
Many more people were on the trail, so instead of hiking to let them pass me from behind, I was moving over so they could pass me by. It wasn’t hard to find a wide enough spot to pass, but you could not do it everywhere. As expected it took twice as long to get back, but I made it about 8:50 AM.
Many more people were on the trail, so instead of hiking to let them pass me from behind, I was moving over so they could pass me by. It wasn’t hard to find a wide enough spot to pass, but you could not do it everywhere. As expected it took twice as long to get back, but I made it about 8:50 AM.
|
|
I headed straight for the car with the intent of dropping of my hiking stick and Hydroflask. Both Margo and Jackie were still in the car. Margo met me at the back of the car, firing up her phone, and asking the question “Guess what we saw?”. I knew it had to be a bear. And I was right. She had pictures of an honest to goodness grizzly bear, a young one, which was up behind the visitor’s center.
|
|
|
I was very jealous and figured the critter was gone by now. But, we hiked up to the area and was met by a ranger telling us to go back as a bear was down this walkway. I was thinking, “I know, and I want to see it”. But, we turned around, and at the next fork, we turned and head along that path in the general direction of the sighting. And luck was on my side, he moved this direction. He was about 50 yards away, easily half the distance the rangers want us to keep.
But, he was interested in none of the people, not even the rangers who were yelling at him, trying to get him to leave. But, he was digging, looking for bulbs and just minding his own business. The rangers finally did end up making enough noise to get him to run back towards the meadow and away from us. Margo and I both got a couple of decent pictures. |
|
After the conversation was exhausted with the bear, I asked about the visitor center. She told me it did not open until 9 AM. It was just that now, so we made our way inside. I expected a lot of exhibits and a gift shop. The gift shop was there, but there were only a few exhibits. A bit disappointing in that respect. But, we managed to spend well over $150 in gifts, shooting our souvenir budget for the day.
Getting to our car necessitated walk through the gauntlet of people who had been sent out as scouts looking for someone about to leave, so they could beg for their parking spot. I felt sorry for them, but one of the Kretzer Rules of Travel, is to get an early start. Even Disney World had a capacity and when it is reached you are out of luck. We designated our spot to someone and we were gone by 9:30 AM.
Getting to our car necessitated walk through the gauntlet of people who had been sent out as scouts looking for someone about to leave, so they could beg for their parking spot. I felt sorry for them, but one of the Kretzer Rules of Travel, is to get an early start. Even Disney World had a capacity and when it is reached you are out of luck. We designated our spot to someone and we were gone by 9:30 AM.
|
Our drive back down The Road to the Sun took much longer. We made a few stops, most memorable at Bird Woman Falls and Heaven Peak. Both were very picturesque. We had someone asked us, when we answered their stock “Where ya from?” question, why we came to Montana. I had a single word answer, which was underscored by these stops; Glacier.
|
|
|
|
It really was pretty and I would get a different look at the park at our next stop; Trail of the Cedars. Trail of the Cedars, as the name implies, is a walk through a forest. It is 8/10 mile, mostly on a boardwalk. The trees are Western Hemlock and Red Cedar. Margo went with me for a portion of this hike. Even though it is a very easy hike, with almost no uphill, her foot was bothering her, so she it cut it short, and went back to keep Jackie company, who had no interest in hiking anywhere.
|
|
I finished up my stroll, taking many pictures, and got back to the car. It was close to 11:30, and we were hungry. I had scouted out a place to eat while planning this day. Lake McDonald Lodge has been around since 1913. It is well kept and the interior reminds me of Yellowstone Lodge, with all of the rustic timber. It is a popular base of operation for Glacier National Park visitors, but the lack of an elevator, and the fact that it was about an hour from our hot air balloon trip disqualified it for our use.
But, on its grounds were several places to eat. The most appealing to me was a pizza place called Jammer Joes. The name and logo come from the infamous and ubiquitous red tour cars that go up and down Road to the Sun all day. The name Jammer comes from the driver of the cars. They were called such because they could be heard jamming the gears of the old standard transmissions back in the early days. Next up on our itinerary was a boat ride on Lake McDonald. Originally I had planned a horseback ride, but a week or so before we left, I just did not think Jackie was going to be able to handle getting on and off the horse, especially if we took a half way break. I also did not think she could handle a horse, so this seemed like a better alternative. Our ride was at 1:30 PM and it was only 12:15 or so when we finished at Jammer Joe’s. We decided to head down to the lake shore and see if we could find some of the famed colored pebbles. Lake McDonald is famous for having these pretty red |
|
and green rocks all along the shore. Their coloring comes from the amount of oxygen present when there were formed. The rocks are actually all over the area, but they stand out when washed of the dirt.
Margo and Jackie had no interest in walking through the large rocks that were in certain areas, so they hung around the guardrail of the lower path and people watch. I walked about 200 yards down the shore taking a few pictures, but they did not come close to the ones I saw on line. I think those had just the right light and maybe a little help from Photoshop.
Margo and Jackie had no interest in walking through the large rocks that were in certain areas, so they hung around the guardrail of the lower path and people watch. I walked about 200 yards down the shore taking a few pictures, but they did not come close to the ones I saw on line. I think those had just the right light and maybe a little help from Photoshop.
|
We boarded the DeSmet, named for the Jesuit explorer, and settled in for our hour trip. Our tour guide was Ranger Doug Follett. He is 92 years old and has been a park ranger for 57 years. I read on Tripadvisor that some people did not like him, and he came off as senile. We did not get that at all. He would repeat himself a bit, and some of his sayings were overly corny, but he knew his stuff, and talked about all of the various fires and tree diseases effecting the park. This was his home and he was very proud of it.
The boat ride was relaxing to the point that both Margo and I were falling asleep. It was only the amplification of the ranger’s voice that kept us from nodding off for the whole last half of the trip. We were still pretty tired. |
|
|
With the Lake McDonald part of our trip complete, we made our way back down to the village of West Glacier, which serves as the western entrance to Glacier National Park. Our first stop was going to be the largest gift shop on at least the western half of the park. We all wandered it and I actually found a polo shirt. I like to where collared shirts, but finding them with the logos of the places we visit is difficult to impossible. No one where these anymore. T-shirt are everywhere. Polos; not so much.
When we drove into Glacier in the early morning, there was no one manning the entrance station. I imagine there was some place to pay manually, but with the thought of no parking at Logan’s Pass, we just kept going with the promise we would make good on our way down. Now was that time. We drove through the exit, made a U-turn and fulfilled our civic duty, made another U-turn and exited the park.
We had one more Glacier Park task; the required picture in front of the park sign. One day I am going to have to collect the ones we have taken and put them together in a collage or something. But, each time we visit a national park, we take a picture with us in front of it. Jackie took our picture, which took several tries, because photography is not something she has had a lot of experience with. She did not gain much on this trip, because we never did find her camera. I hope it turns up by the time we take our cruise.
When we drove into Glacier in the early morning, there was no one manning the entrance station. I imagine there was some place to pay manually, but with the thought of no parking at Logan’s Pass, we just kept going with the promise we would make good on our way down. Now was that time. We drove through the exit, made a U-turn and fulfilled our civic duty, made another U-turn and exited the park.
We had one more Glacier Park task; the required picture in front of the park sign. One day I am going to have to collect the ones we have taken and put them together in a collage or something. But, each time we visit a national park, we take a picture with us in front of it. Jackie took our picture, which took several tries, because photography is not something she has had a lot of experience with. She did not gain much on this trip, because we never did find her camera. I hope it turns up by the time we take our cruise.
With that accomplished it was time to head back to the hotel to unload all of our prizes and decide on dinner. It was actually an easy choice. Even though our first experience with the Nite Owl was not a home run, the food was decent. I was in the mood for fried chicken and what I saw on the plates of the other diners, yesterday, looked right to me. As it turned out this meal was really good. All three of us had chicken. Jackie and I had their fried, Margo their roasted. It was hot and juicy.
We made a stop at a market called Smith’s, and got our supplies for our road trip tomorrow, back to the hotel, and bed soon after. It had been another full day.
We made a stop at a market called Smith’s, and got our supplies for our road trip tomorrow, back to the hotel, and bed soon after. It had been another full day.
Day Four---Wednesday, July 25, 2018
We got sleep all the way to 7 AM this morning. We were leaving Columbia Falls, with the intent of driving to Wallace, ID and spending most of the day there, and then driving to our hotel in Spokane, thus completing our driving circuit.
Today we were late enough at the hotel to have breakfast there. It was nothing special, just waffles from a waffle maker, small muffins, cold cereal, juice, and fruit topping for the waffles. These waffle makers are all over the place in hotels across the nation, but I have never used one. Waffles are not my thing. But, if I wanted something of substance, this was it. I made a pretty decent waffle. Jackie had one, too. Margo had cold cereal, something I just can’t do any more, and I have no idea why. It is just not appealing anymore.
We were one the road by 9 AM. We had about 4 ½ hours of drive time in front of us, but the stop in Wallace would break that up in half. We stopped in St Regis, Montana, about 2 ½ hours later for a restroom break and ice. The travel stereotype is the wife with the small bladder. But, it is me. Two hours seems to be my limit, as such I had to go by the time we hit St. Regis. We did not linger. We crossed into Idaho about 30 minutes later, and arrived in Wallace 15 minutes after that.
We got sleep all the way to 7 AM this morning. We were leaving Columbia Falls, with the intent of driving to Wallace, ID and spending most of the day there, and then driving to our hotel in Spokane, thus completing our driving circuit.
Today we were late enough at the hotel to have breakfast there. It was nothing special, just waffles from a waffle maker, small muffins, cold cereal, juice, and fruit topping for the waffles. These waffle makers are all over the place in hotels across the nation, but I have never used one. Waffles are not my thing. But, if I wanted something of substance, this was it. I made a pretty decent waffle. Jackie had one, too. Margo had cold cereal, something I just can’t do any more, and I have no idea why. It is just not appealing anymore.
We were one the road by 9 AM. We had about 4 ½ hours of drive time in front of us, but the stop in Wallace would break that up in half. We stopped in St Regis, Montana, about 2 ½ hours later for a restroom break and ice. The travel stereotype is the wife with the small bladder. But, it is me. Two hours seems to be my limit, as such I had to go by the time we hit St. Regis. We did not linger. We crossed into Idaho about 30 minutes later, and arrived in Wallace 15 minutes after that.
|
We parked near the visitor’s center, which also held the Northern Idaho Mining Museum, and asked the lady there about the Sierra Mine tour and a place for lunch. She advised to go get our tickets for tour, as they sell out in advance of the actual tour. She then recommended two places to eat, both of which I had researched. At this immediate point in time, I recall thinking that the closest place, The Blackboard Café, was one I had thought we should skip. But, I could not remember why, so I ignored my inner voice, because the Blackboard Café was two doors down.
The girls headed that way, and I went to the next street and got three tickets for Sierra Mine Tour. But as we had crossed into a new time zone less than an hour ago, I had not reset my watch. Our tour was an hour later than I had planned. I was not too fussed. We had things to fill up that hour. I am writing this down so I don’t forget; Brie cheese sucks. I had never had it before. I knew it was a soft cheese, which I thought suited it nice for a grilled cheese. It wasn’t. It provided enough tactile strength to ensnare the huckleberries, which were nearly flavorless. That surprised me, because the pie I had earlier was bursting with flavor, Maybe Brie has a flavor canceling property suited to be mixed with pungent flavors. Or maybe it just sucked. Going with the latter. |
None of us like the Blackboard Café. I need to start listening to me. The food was foo-foo. Jackie ordered their Classic Hamburger, Margo their BLT. I decided to be adventurous, and ordered their Brie and Huckleberry Grilled Cheese. All three came with homemade potato chips, the highlight of the meal.
Jackie’s came with a knife to cut the sandwich. The knife was too dull to cut the brioche bun. Underneath said gourmet bun, was the standard foo-foo lettuce, and tomato, which looked ok, but I suspect was fertilized with some sort of animal waste, so it could obtain the title of Organic. |
|
The bacon on Margo’s BLT was thick and a bit undercooked, making it impossible to bite and tear off unless you were a Glacier National Park grizzly. Margo is not one of those omnivores, and settled for nibbling around the bacon and enjoying the chips. Margo was quoted as saying “I’ve never seen anyone screw up a BLT.”
We were less than a block from The Center of the Universe. Huh? The Center of the Universe is in Wallace, ID? Why yes. Yes, it is. How can that be, ask the people of Tulsa, OK? Ok here is the story. In 2002 the Environmental Protection Agency issued their Record of Decision for the Coeur d’Alene Basin, which included the town of Wallace. In this decision the EPA declared the area a Super Fund site, and killed the property values of the area. The Record of Decision further stated that the contamination was “probably” due to the local mines. Well, this upset most everyone and introduced the concept of Probalism, meaning that if can’t prove something is not true, it must be true. In a snarky rebuttal to the EPA, in 2004, the mayor of Wallace declared that Wallace must be the Center of the Universe, because no one could prove it wasn’t. So there. |
|
That Center of the Universe is marked by a manhole cover at the intersection of 6th and Bank. There was no way on day in which I was so close to the center of the universe, I would fail to get a picture. Margo and Jackie would be coaxed into having their feet photographed on top of the manhole cover, but I was showing my guns, standing on it for my picture.
|
It was still too early for our tour, but the Sierra Silver Mine store also had a very nice gift shop. Imagine that. Margo found some very nice wooden puzzle boxes, which we plan to use for Christmas. In the past we had given them cash in these boxes as a way of making that gift more interesting. We plan to continue that tradition, but with a twist. In the boxes are going to be IOUs for cash, instead. The actual cash will be in a later gift. Even though I am planning to post this on my website, my secret is likely safe, because no one reads this.
|
We finally boarded a trolley bus to take a mile or so to the Sierra Silver mine. The trolley probably took 10 minutes to get us there. I paid little attention to anything the drive said and just enjoyed the ride. I don’t recall him saying much after welcoming us to his bus.
Around this time we did receive more bad news from home. Recall that the wife of person Margo used to work with at Coop, had been hit by the Denver Post News train back from Cheyenne. The news this time was of the husband (really, companion; never married but together for at least a decade) of another person Margo used to work with a Coop. He, Bob Dreiling, had died from COPD. We were wondering as these things seem to run in threes, if we would be getting another call.
Arriving at the mine, our guide was a former hard rock miner named Rick. As we would go through the tour it was obvious that Rick was not trained to be a tour guide. He lived this stuff and could give us perspective that some teenager earning money for the summer could never hope to have.
Around this time we did receive more bad news from home. Recall that the wife of person Margo used to work with at Coop, had been hit by the Denver Post News train back from Cheyenne. The news this time was of the husband (really, companion; never married but together for at least a decade) of another person Margo used to work with a Coop. He, Bob Dreiling, had died from COPD. We were wondering as these things seem to run in threes, if we would be getting another call.
Arriving at the mine, our guide was a former hard rock miner named Rick. As we would go through the tour it was obvious that Rick was not trained to be a tour guide. He lived this stuff and could give us perspective that some teenager earning money for the summer could never hope to have.
|
|
Rick started by giving us a little history of the mine. I don’t recall when he said the mine was discovered, the website says around 1900, but in the first seven years of mining, they only got 70 feet into the mountain. That is 10 feet per year. Those 70 feet produced next to nothing in silver. I think the issue was, with respect to the 10 feet per year, is that while dynamite had been around for over 30 years, drilling technology was still a single jack and a hammer. It would take a very long time to hammer drill a hole deep enough to set a single still of dynamite in, let alone multiple charges.
After the 70 foot owners finally gave out, the mine was bought by another group who used more modern technology to make lots of mine shafts, but uncover very little silver. They also gave up, went broke, and the mine most sat until the neighboring mine, who was drilling underneath were the Sierra had gotten, bought the mineral rights. They found the motherlode. The Sierra needed to go deeper, but the money had long since run out.
That left the Sierra as a worthless hole in a mountain. But, mining was still big business, so some got the idea of using it as a high school vocational training base. High School kids could learn how to hard rock mine while still in school, and upon graduation have a good paying jog waiting for them.
That worked well until the Nelson & William Hunt, brothers, and brothers of Lamar Hunt, owner of the Kansas City Chiefs, attempted to corner the silver market in 1979. In 1980, on Silver Thursday, March 27, 1980 their scheme collapsed and so did the price of silver. This dried up a need for silver miners and mines closed.
The Sierra was now back to its status as a worthless hole in a mountain. In 1982 the Sierra Mine Tour group was formed to begin using the mine as a tourist attraction built around teaching how a real hard rock mine operated. And here we are in present day.
Rick actually started us out with the early mining techniques, showing us the tools of the day, candles for light, the aforementioned single jack bit, and so forth and moved us into the tools he used as a hard rock miner, not so many years ago.
The first one he showed us was a jackleg drill. This was a quantum leap in technology from the single and double jack method. The jackleg drill is powered by compressed air. We watched Rick turn this thing on and in literally just a few seconds had drilled two feet into solid rock. This would have taken many man hours with the old equipment. In a working mine, this could have taken a whole. It was very loud, but also very effective.
After the 70 foot owners finally gave out, the mine was bought by another group who used more modern technology to make lots of mine shafts, but uncover very little silver. They also gave up, went broke, and the mine most sat until the neighboring mine, who was drilling underneath were the Sierra had gotten, bought the mineral rights. They found the motherlode. The Sierra needed to go deeper, but the money had long since run out.
That left the Sierra as a worthless hole in a mountain. But, mining was still big business, so some got the idea of using it as a high school vocational training base. High School kids could learn how to hard rock mine while still in school, and upon graduation have a good paying jog waiting for them.
That worked well until the Nelson & William Hunt, brothers, and brothers of Lamar Hunt, owner of the Kansas City Chiefs, attempted to corner the silver market in 1979. In 1980, on Silver Thursday, March 27, 1980 their scheme collapsed and so did the price of silver. This dried up a need for silver miners and mines closed.
The Sierra was now back to its status as a worthless hole in a mountain. In 1982 the Sierra Mine Tour group was formed to begin using the mine as a tourist attraction built around teaching how a real hard rock mine operated. And here we are in present day.
Rick actually started us out with the early mining techniques, showing us the tools of the day, candles for light, the aforementioned single jack bit, and so forth and moved us into the tools he used as a hard rock miner, not so many years ago.
The first one he showed us was a jackleg drill. This was a quantum leap in technology from the single and double jack method. The jackleg drill is powered by compressed air. We watched Rick turn this thing on and in literally just a few seconds had drilled two feet into solid rock. This would have taken many man hours with the old equipment. In a working mine, this could have taken a whole. It was very loud, but also very effective.
He next he showed us two different types of mucking machines. Muck is any kind of debris, including ore, which needs to be moved from the mine to somewhere else. Mostly they are concerned with getting the rocks, which have been blown loose by the dynamite, into an ore cart and out to a processing plant.
The first mucker he showed us was a mucking machine that resembled that had a scoop front, like on a bulldozer, it operated on rails, and would scoop up ore in front of it, and toss it over its top to a cart behind it. The operator stood on the side of the cart. It looked like a very dangerous piece of equipment to operate.
The final piece was a dredge mucker. It had a bucket similar to the ones on a backhoe. This bucket is attached to a chain. The machine sends the bucket, via the chain, into the shaft and drops the bucket onto the ore (muck), and is the then pulled back to the front where it can then be scooped up by another piece of equipment. All three piece of equipment were air powered and very loud. They all looked dangerous to operate. As I read somewhere; “There are many ways to die in a mine.”
Then he started telling us about the Sunshine Mine disaster. The Sunshine Mine was one of the most prolific silver mines in all of the country. In 1972, it was at its zenith. On May 2, 1972 a fire broke out and 91 men died of smoke inhalation or CO poisoning. Rick knew many of the men who perished. Our tour group was six people. Us three, and another family of three. The dad of the other three, was the nephew of one of the 91 (Gustav Thor) who perished.
Rick told us what he knew about the fire and the rescue, and of the ones who did not make it. Being the grandson of a coal miner, who also died in a mining accident, I could really relate. It brought home what each of those men faced for something like $3.00 per hour.
The tour ended soon after that. We were each giving a core sample from the mine and we thanked (& tipped) Rick. The ride back down was about like the ride up, peaceful and beautiful. I can see why people live here…..in the summer.
The first mucker he showed us was a mucking machine that resembled that had a scoop front, like on a bulldozer, it operated on rails, and would scoop up ore in front of it, and toss it over its top to a cart behind it. The operator stood on the side of the cart. It looked like a very dangerous piece of equipment to operate.
The final piece was a dredge mucker. It had a bucket similar to the ones on a backhoe. This bucket is attached to a chain. The machine sends the bucket, via the chain, into the shaft and drops the bucket onto the ore (muck), and is the then pulled back to the front where it can then be scooped up by another piece of equipment. All three piece of equipment were air powered and very loud. They all looked dangerous to operate. As I read somewhere; “There are many ways to die in a mine.”
Then he started telling us about the Sunshine Mine disaster. The Sunshine Mine was one of the most prolific silver mines in all of the country. In 1972, it was at its zenith. On May 2, 1972 a fire broke out and 91 men died of smoke inhalation or CO poisoning. Rick knew many of the men who perished. Our tour group was six people. Us three, and another family of three. The dad of the other three, was the nephew of one of the 91 (Gustav Thor) who perished.
Rick told us what he knew about the fire and the rescue, and of the ones who did not make it. Being the grandson of a coal miner, who also died in a mining accident, I could really relate. It brought home what each of those men faced for something like $3.00 per hour.
The tour ended soon after that. We were each giving a core sample from the mine and we thanked (& tipped) Rick. The ride back down was about like the ride up, peaceful and beautiful. I can see why people live here…..in the summer.
We were back at the Mining Museum by 3:30 PM. Prior to our tour we had spent some time wandering the gift shop and had put several items behind the counter waiting for us to complete our contribution to the Wallace economy. We added a few items and were done with the Sierra Mine.
There were two other places I wanted to see before we left; the Northwest Idaho Mining Museum and the Oasis Bordello museum. The mining museum closed at 4 PM and it was 3:30 Pm already. It was a block away so we headed over there and spent the next half hour looking at its exhibits. It was OK.
They had a nice set up detailing aspects of working in a real hard rock mine. You walked into a dark area covered with clear curtains, and a light came on to illuminate the display. Then you moved to the next display and light came on to show that one. You were in darkness all around you, so it sought to create the illusion that you were in a mine. It worked well enough.
There were two other places I wanted to see before we left; the Northwest Idaho Mining Museum and the Oasis Bordello museum. The mining museum closed at 4 PM and it was 3:30 Pm already. It was a block away so we headed over there and spent the next half hour looking at its exhibits. It was OK.
They had a nice set up detailing aspects of working in a real hard rock mine. You walked into a dark area covered with clear curtains, and a light came on to illuminate the display. Then you moved to the next display and light came on to show that one. You were in darkness all around you, so it sought to create the illusion that you were in a mine. It worked well enough.
|
Another display of interest was the last stop light on I-90. I-90 used to pass through Wallace, and there was a stop light. Interstate are not supposed to have stop lights, so this gave incentive to the Department of Transportation to remedy that. They wanted to bring in bulldozers and wrecking balls to make a nice wide place for the interstate. Wallace was not interested in this solution. A group of Wallacitzens began working to declare not just that area designated as part of the highway, but all of Wallace as a National Historic Area. They were successful, using one branch of the Federal government to circumvent another. Now I-90 goes over top of Wallace.
We headed two blocks over to the Oasis Rooms brothel, which operated until 1988. It wasn’t operated legally, but Madam Ginger, who retired a wealthy woman, made sure to make “donations’ to the police and other important people, to insure she was left alone. The FBI, on the other hand, got work of her operation and was preparing to raid it and shut it down. They did made a raid in Jan 1988, but found Madam Ginger and girls gone. She had been tipped off. They had expected to come back in a day or two when the FBI lost interest, and pick right up where they left off. But, the FBI did not leave for many months. By then Madam Ginger decided it was time to retire. |
|
In its wake, the girls and Madam Ginger had left most everything behind. Food, make up, toiletries, egg timers, cloths, dishes (including dirty ones in the sink), an Atari game system, and on and on. In 1993 the place was turned into a museum, and when you go there it is like taking a 40 year leap back in time.
There are magazines and TV guide from the mid-1980s. The aforementioned Atari, with Pac Man, and other popular games of the time. The TV set looks like one of my first ones. It was a little eerie and definitely nostalgic. |
|
There were plenty of signs this was not just living quarters. There were half a dozen rooms, one per girl, each decorated differently, and filled with personal items or touches. In the kitchen area was a wooden strong box, divided into multiple area, each with a lock on the front, a slot and an egg timer in front.
The egg timer was used to keep track of the time each man paid for. The money was put in the slot in advance, and logged. The next morning the logs and money were reconciled, the ladies paid 60%, and things started back up.
We were told that 40 clients per lady, per night, was not unusual. The girls were checked out weekly by a doctor. They were free to quit any time, and were treated well by Madam Ginger. Or at least as well, as can be expected.
Our tour guide said that the owners of museum had met with Madam Ginger several times and talked to her about the place. Many of the girls had also come back to Oasis and taken the tour, adding their personal knowledge of day to night workings.
They had a small gift shop (don’t they all?), where all Margo wanted was the Menu. Madam Ginger had her list of the girls services prominently displaced, and the gift shop had turned that list into a number of souvenirs, including a business card size menu. We had tipped our guide $5, so she just gave Margo one of these $1 lists.
We grabbed a bag of ice from a gas station on the way out of town. We made a stop about 30 minutes later with intent of buying some of “the best cookies in the world” from Rose Lake Restaurant, but they closed two hours ago, at 3:00 PM.
We got back on I-90 and were at Northern Quest Resort an hour later. We had a trunk full of luggage, plus all of our purchases for the past three days. I was tired, my hip was aching, and I did not feel like dealing with any of it. One word popped into my head; bellhop.
In over 30 years of traveling, I have never used a bellhop. We have always managed to take care of our luggage on our own. Today I gladly tipped the guy $10 to load up a cart and then unload it on the 4th floor. Definitely money well spent.
We actually at before we checked in, deciding on the River’s Edge Buffett. It was decent. It was 8:30 by now. Margo and I gambled for an hour. Jackie had had enough walking from our time in Wallace, and stayed in her room. I gave up after that first hour, being $6 ahead. Yeah me. Margo kept going until about 11:15. I was tired and in bed 15 minutes before she walked in. I never heard her.
The egg timer was used to keep track of the time each man paid for. The money was put in the slot in advance, and logged. The next morning the logs and money were reconciled, the ladies paid 60%, and things started back up.
We were told that 40 clients per lady, per night, was not unusual. The girls were checked out weekly by a doctor. They were free to quit any time, and were treated well by Madam Ginger. Or at least as well, as can be expected.
Our tour guide said that the owners of museum had met with Madam Ginger several times and talked to her about the place. Many of the girls had also come back to Oasis and taken the tour, adding their personal knowledge of day to night workings.
They had a small gift shop (don’t they all?), where all Margo wanted was the Menu. Madam Ginger had her list of the girls services prominently displaced, and the gift shop had turned that list into a number of souvenirs, including a business card size menu. We had tipped our guide $5, so she just gave Margo one of these $1 lists.
We grabbed a bag of ice from a gas station on the way out of town. We made a stop about 30 minutes later with intent of buying some of “the best cookies in the world” from Rose Lake Restaurant, but they closed two hours ago, at 3:00 PM.
We got back on I-90 and were at Northern Quest Resort an hour later. We had a trunk full of luggage, plus all of our purchases for the past three days. I was tired, my hip was aching, and I did not feel like dealing with any of it. One word popped into my head; bellhop.
In over 30 years of traveling, I have never used a bellhop. We have always managed to take care of our luggage on our own. Today I gladly tipped the guy $10 to load up a cart and then unload it on the 4th floor. Definitely money well spent.
We actually at before we checked in, deciding on the River’s Edge Buffett. It was decent. It was 8:30 by now. Margo and I gambled for an hour. Jackie had had enough walking from our time in Wallace, and stayed in her room. I gave up after that first hour, being $6 ahead. Yeah me. Margo kept going until about 11:15. I was tired and in bed 15 minutes before she walked in. I never heard her.
Day Five---Thursday, July 26, 2018
I was up at 8:30 AM. Margo was up before I was. We did not have anything firm planned until our 4 PM parasailing appointment. I was looking forward to this. We had tried to parasail in Branson two years ago, but the guys winch had broken and we were cancelled. So, I had planned only shopping on Sherman St in Coeur d’Alene for the late morning and early afternoon.
We ate breakfast at Northern Quest’s sports bar, Epic. The food was good. I had the steak scramble. We got the Forrester from the valet, and were on the road by 11 AM. It was 45 minutes or so to Coeur d’Alene, and we got lucky and found a spot to park at Independence Point, right beside our peer. It was also an easy walk to Sherman Street.
Easy Walk, was a matter of opinion to Jackie. We ended up not being able to walk more than 100 yards in a stretch before she was either out of breathe or her ankle hurt. The doctor wants her using the ankle, but she limps worse that I do. As for her asthma, she is on meds, but they don’t seem to work. She wheezes like she has COPD walking from her hotel room to ours, next door.
We ate breakfast at Northern Quest’s sports bar, Epic. The food was good. I had the steak scramble. We got the Forrester from the valet, and were on the road by 11 AM. It was 45 minutes or so to Coeur d’Alene, and we got lucky and found a spot to park at Independence Point, right beside our peer. It was also an easy walk to Sherman Street.
Easy Walk, was a matter of opinion to Jackie. We ended up not being able to walk more than 100 yards in a stretch before she was either out of breathe or her ankle hurt. The doctor wants her using the ankle, but she limps worse that I do. As for her asthma, she is on meds, but they don’t seem to work. She wheezes like she has COPD walking from her hotel room to ours, next door.
The first place we stopped, at 2nd and Sherman, was Coeur d’Alene Plaza. It held several shops, including a Starbucks, which even with their overly liberal politics, sounded like a good idea. The Plaza had several nice shops, which included a Marketplace Gifts, where I got some huckleberry pie filling, and Figpickels Toy Emporium, which was kind of fun. They had some odd things, such as a wooden ball moving contraption, which used a cam system to lift balls up a hill, and then they would roll back down to start again.
We made our way back to Independence Point and dropped off our bags at our car. City Park is right beside the Point and Lake Coeur d’Alene. We found a nice place in the shade a people watched for an hour or so. There were lots of people is swim attire. Plenty looked good. Plenty need to buy a mirror.
At 3:35 we made our way down our peer and the little shack which would be our staging area for our parasailing adventure. Jackie had already chickened out, the instant, several hours ago, in which we pointed out the parasailing guys on the lake. It was more or less expected, but I was still a little annoyed. I had showed her video a week ago to try to see where she was at. She did not hesitate to say she would do it. I guess that is more me learning her than anything else. But, like I said; not unexpected. During our time people watching we had watched clouds start to roll in. They were darkish clouds that we all recognized as potential storm producers. Wind shuts parasailing down faster than any other obstacle. Both Margo and I commented on it. But, 4 PM rolled around and everything was still a go. We boarded the boat, with its two person crew and were quickly on our way out towards the middle of the lake. 
|
I found a magnet for Mary and a monogramed license plate for Savannah at Marketplace Gifts. Jackie got a coin purse and some sort of bear finger puppets. She is nuts about all things bears and finds it amusing to show me every single one she finds, just so I can tell her “No more bears.” She has a bedroom full of them, and more stored in my basement. Yet, she came home with more. Her vacation, too.
The rest of Sherman Street was more just killing time and getting exercise. My hip was acting up some. Usually it just feels week and it aches a bit. Today it hurt a little more, so it was a little work walking about. We did find a decent place for lunch, even if it was disappointing in the same way. When we went to California Adventure with Pam and Jayme there was a place called Pacific Wharf Café, which served soup in sourdough bowls. I saw the sign for San Francisco Sourdough Eatery and had a very pleasant flashback. They ended up not having any bread bowls, but they did make a decent sandwich. 
|
|
|
|
Going with us, was another couple, who were doing a tandem ride. They quickly volunteered to go first. They rigged the parachute, and as it popped open, things got very real. That sound said “Get ready, wimps. It’s time to fly.” I was still more than willing, and so was Margo. But the couple went first.
They were rigged and tied in, and sat on their butts. As the wench let the chute out they were lifted skyward. The winds also started to pick up a bit and the captain needed to change course a couple of times to keep them directly behind us. The couple opted to be dipped while be reeled back in. I expected that to be fairly close to the boat, but they were a good 100 yards out, and it looked like quite a feat to get just their feet and calves into the water, and not a whole baptism. The reel in from there was a little dicey. We were moved to the other side of the boat for counterbalance, and the couple landed on their butts, not hard, but a normal landing was described to us as a gentle touchdown on your feet. They were jazzed. We were thinking we had just seen the last flight of the day. We were right. The captain of the boat dug out his anemometer and clocked gusts at 28 miles per hour. The upper limit was 15 mph. Well, we at least got to see parasailing up close, and had a nice boat ride. We got back and checked on rescheduling for tomorrow. They had one slot opened at 3 PM. It was 45 minutes from our hotel and the same back. Margo didn’t really want to risk it. Afternoon weather is thunderstorm weather, so we took our refund and walked back to the car. |
This was as close as we got to parasailing. They loaded up the couple on this chute
|
It was dinner time and there was a Cracker Barrel nearby. Whenever we travel, we know we will always get a good meal at a Cracker Barrel, so that was settled. The food was good. I love their chicken and dumplings. Margo almost always gets a side medley. If Jackie does order a chicken fried steak, then she must be sick. A little shopping in their store and then it was just a few blocks to our final (only) entertainment of the day; a play at the Kroc Center.
We had seen Guys and Dolls about 30 years ago at the Country Dinner Playhouse. But, other than the song Luck be a Lady Tonight, I remembered nothing about. Margo didn’t even remember that. What I did remember about the play is that it was written by New York City journalist, Damon Runyon, and that the lead character was Sky Masterson.
Old West lawman, Bat Masterson, eventually became a New York sportswriter, and contemporary of Runyon. Runyon was a close friend of Masterson, and even gave a eulogy when Bat passed away in 1921. The character of Sky Masterson is based on his friend, Bat, at least somewhat.
We had seen Guys and Dolls about 30 years ago at the Country Dinner Playhouse. But, other than the song Luck be a Lady Tonight, I remembered nothing about. Margo didn’t even remember that. What I did remember about the play is that it was written by New York City journalist, Damon Runyon, and that the lead character was Sky Masterson.
Old West lawman, Bat Masterson, eventually became a New York sportswriter, and contemporary of Runyon. Runyon was a close friend of Masterson, and even gave a eulogy when Bat passed away in 1921. The character of Sky Masterson is based on his friend, Bat, at least somewhat.
|
The venue we were at; The Kroc Center, is named for Ray and Joan Kroc of McDonald’s Restaurants fame. I wondered what the Kroc had to do with Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. The Krocs were California kind of people. It turns out that Joan Kroc, who had outlived Ray by 19 years, upon her death in 2003, bequeathed 1.5 billion. That is BILLION, to the Salvation Army to build community centers across the country. There are over two dozen of them across the country. The play was three hours with an intermission. I had to pee twice. I don’t know what is up with my bladder lately. I think some of it is in my head. I start thinking or worrying about it and I need to go. The play was great. I thought the guy who played Sky Masterson stole the show. He was confident, funny, and totally in command of the stage when he was on. He made me want to go buy a fedora. I will never forget that Obadiah is Sky Masterson’s real name, and how he looked dressed as a Salvation Army soldier in the finale. |
We got back to our hotel room around midnight. I was in no mood to fight all of the cigarette smoke of this Indian casino, so I worked on this narrative a bit. I was in bed by 1 AM. Margo did not make it back to the room until after 3 AM. She had hit a hot streak and was riding it out until exhaustion made her say “Uncle”
Day Six---Friday, July 27, 2018
Today was our last real day of vacation, and today was Margo’s day. She enjoys her slot machines. I enjoy them if I win. Today, I was up at 9:00 AM, and I was in no real hurry to get started. Margo was up before I was, but not a lot.
I should mention our shower. It was the second biggest we have ever had. Top billing goes to the one at the Hard Rock Café Hotel in Biloxi, MS, when we were upgraded to a suite. But, this one was pretty good too. It was all glass and had an area where the shower controls were at, that you had to walk to from the shower heads to turn them on. How cool is that? It was big enough that you had to walk away to turn it on. There were four shower heads. If we had seen this bathroom before our remodel we would be figuring out how to make this happen. Those things made getting out of the shower very hard, because they felt sooooo good.
This photo of Northern Quest Hotel and Casino is courtesy of Tripadvisor
|
|
Our plan was to have breakfast at the buffet. We arrived at 11:10. They had stopped serving, but lunch would begin in 50 minutes. If only there were something to do to kill an hour. We played the slots for about 50 minutes and then got in the buffet line. We decided that since we weren’t going anywhere else all day, we might as well take advantage of their buffet special. We paid $120 for three of us, to include both lunch and dinner. $20 per meal is still not cheap, but we would likely not get a better deal, and we could eat like little pigs.
Jackie decided she was going to spend the day in her room. Margo was more than a little annoyed, as she felt Jackie was just babying her ankle. But, like I said, if she wanted to watch TV all day, it was her vacation, too. I only gambled until 1:30 PM. I spent a lot of time in the Smoke Free area, but it was not a fruitful place. I lost about $75. Margo had texted be about a couple of jackpots. One of those was over $400. She was definitely enjoying her day so far.
Jackie decided she was going to spend the day in her room. Margo was more than a little annoyed, as she felt Jackie was just babying her ankle. But, like I said, if she wanted to watch TV all day, it was her vacation, too. I only gambled until 1:30 PM. I spent a lot of time in the Smoke Free area, but it was not a fruitful place. I lost about $75. Margo had texted be about a couple of jackpots. One of those was over $400. She was definitely enjoying her day so far.
|
Around 1:00, Margo decided to take a break to check us in for our flight home on Southwest Airline. I hate having to interrupt our vacation to make sure we are checking in right at the 24 hour mark, so we get the best possible, free, boarding position. But, it’s either that, or add yet another expense and have the system do it for you. I’ll have to think about that for the future.
While Margo was doing that I was just getting a chocolate shake, at the on-site Fat Burger. Shhhhhhh. Don’t tell. By the time I finished it and made my way upstairs, Margo was done and had secured us decent positions. As I was feeling a tad guilty about not finding her first to see if she wanted something, too, I went back downstairs and gambled with her for a bit. God saw fit to punish me, with continued bad luck, but only to the tune of about $30, until my conscience was appeased and I went back upstairs to write. I ended up losing just over $100 over the three days. I have done much worse We all went down for dinner at the buffet at 5:15. I expected a line, but it was seriously long. With our prepaid meal, we did get to skip one line, and were soon eating. Over the meal I asked Margo how she had done. It turned out she was up a bit over $800 at one point, but gave back $300. I am sure overall she is still way behind. In the long term it is impossible to beat the slots. We were done eating at 6:15 and made the long walk from the back side of the casino to the hotel lobby, where the door to their outdoor arena was located. We waited only a few minutes, in the air conditioning, for the gates to open. There was a crowd already gathered, who had purchased the SRO area passes, right in front of the stage. I’m a sit-in-your-seat kind of fan, so there was no reason for us to be waiting in the heat. |
|
When the gates open we made a leisurely walk into the area, and went over the Merchandise Area. Margo and Jackie got shirts. We picked up beer and water and were in our seats right before 7 PM. The show was to start in half an hour.
As the crew was finishing up with sound check and whatever other prep was needed, we listened to the piped in music, and ended up singing along to Roger Miller’s King of the Road, a song I had not heard in years, maybe decades. I kind of put you in the right mood.
As the crew was finishing up with sound check and whatever other prep was needed, we listened to the piped in music, and ended up singing along to Roger Miller’s King of the Road, a song I had not heard in years, maybe decades. I kind of put you in the right mood.
|
|
|
The opening act was Brown and Grey, and duo whose only song I think I might have heard was Top Down Drivin’, which was released last year. It sounded familiar. What a break they are getting to open for Brad Paisley. They killed a half hour. The next half hour was spend reorganizing the stage, for Brad Paisley. His show started at 8:30 PM. I made a trip to bathroom. Brad Paisley opened his show with Mud on the Tires, and then rolled through three or four more songs before anyone could catch their breath. The thing that impressed me right away, is that he was his own lead guitar. He can really play. I think he changed guitars about every two or three songs, with someone bringing him a different one to match to the songs |
Kaci Brown, The "Brown" part of Brown and Grey
|
|
About midway through his set, he finished a song, took the guitar off his shoulders and signed it with a Sharpie. Someone behind me said “No Way.”, giving voice to what I was thinking. He was about to give that guitar away. The Chosen One was a six-year old boy, down in the SRO crowd, who was spending the concert on his dad’s shoulders, wearing large orange ear protectors.
Brad joked afterwards, saying “If your career as an air traffic controller does not work out, you might be up on stage someday.” He also said something about the kid being up here in 10 years. Pretty cool. His entire set lasted about an hour and minutes, not bad and he was very good. He sang every song I was expecting and one called First Cousin, about a boy and a girl who were in a forbidden relationship. It was all very much tongue in cheek, and we laughed throughout the whole thing. |
|
When it was over, Brad gave his hat away to someone else in the crowd, and was gone. It was not ten minutes later that his tour bus pulled out and presumably on his way to the next show.
Jackie said she liked it, but every time I turned to look at her, she was in the exact same position, holding her purse in her lap and as still as still as the Rock of Gibraltar. She did not move to the music, hoot, holler, tap her feet, nothing. But, she had a good time. That was pretty much our night. We were back in our rooms at 10:15 PM. Margo finished the packing and went to bed. I followed about 1 AM. Our last day of vacation was over. |
|
Day Seven---Saturday, July 28, 2018
Today was a travel day, and my least favorite day of vacation. There was little pay off after fighting through all of the obstacles of travel. The fun was over, and now only the relief of being home counted as a reward.
Up at 8 AM. Ten minutes later, even before my eyes could properly focus, Margo was showing me a picture of dog poop. Days should not start out this way. Write that down. The poop was from Nellie, at home, as photographed by Jessi. It appeared to have a reddish streak, indicating nothing good. Maybe this was going to be the number three. I hoped it was nothing serious. Jessi said that the dog seemed perfectly normal. To kill the suspense; Nellie is fine. Doc says probably a lower intestine infection. She is on antibiotics and poop is now normal. Yeah!
I was able to forget all of this for breakfast, which for the 3rd meal in a row, was in the buffet. The food wasn’t bad, but it did not approach great either. It is hard to make a buffet really good, and this was about average each time we ate. At least we got full.
We used a bellhop again, and were on the road by 10 AM. We made the requisite stop for gas, which somehow the GPS reminded me to do. Yeah, Garmin! Rental Car returned with no issues, and Spokane provided a free luggage cart. Denver International charges $5.00.
We got to our gate way early; 11:30 for a 1:40 flight. But, we still needed to pick up gifts for Jaeden and Devon, and luckily there was a gift shop near our gate. Not that it would have mattered where the gift shop was, this airport was tiny. Their whole place fit in one concourse, at DIA.
At 12:30 an announcement came over that Denver had a weather advisory. Everything was OK at the moment, but our flight had the potential for being delayed, diverted, or cancelled. I was kind of, a little bit, hoping it would be diverted to Cheyenne and we could have an excuse to spend a day at Cheyenne Frontier Days.
But, luckily, or not, we boarded and took off on time. We landed at 5:10. Jessi and Pete picked us up, and we had a nice dinner together at La Estrellita, back home.
Our next trip will be our 3rd Disney cruise when we got to the Virgin Islands, in February. As you would expect I am already hard at work planning that one.
Up at 8 AM. Ten minutes later, even before my eyes could properly focus, Margo was showing me a picture of dog poop. Days should not start out this way. Write that down. The poop was from Nellie, at home, as photographed by Jessi. It appeared to have a reddish streak, indicating nothing good. Maybe this was going to be the number three. I hoped it was nothing serious. Jessi said that the dog seemed perfectly normal. To kill the suspense; Nellie is fine. Doc says probably a lower intestine infection. She is on antibiotics and poop is now normal. Yeah!
I was able to forget all of this for breakfast, which for the 3rd meal in a row, was in the buffet. The food wasn’t bad, but it did not approach great either. It is hard to make a buffet really good, and this was about average each time we ate. At least we got full.
We used a bellhop again, and were on the road by 10 AM. We made the requisite stop for gas, which somehow the GPS reminded me to do. Yeah, Garmin! Rental Car returned with no issues, and Spokane provided a free luggage cart. Denver International charges $5.00.
We got to our gate way early; 11:30 for a 1:40 flight. But, we still needed to pick up gifts for Jaeden and Devon, and luckily there was a gift shop near our gate. Not that it would have mattered where the gift shop was, this airport was tiny. Their whole place fit in one concourse, at DIA.
At 12:30 an announcement came over that Denver had a weather advisory. Everything was OK at the moment, but our flight had the potential for being delayed, diverted, or cancelled. I was kind of, a little bit, hoping it would be diverted to Cheyenne and we could have an excuse to spend a day at Cheyenne Frontier Days.
But, luckily, or not, we boarded and took off on time. We landed at 5:10. Jessi and Pete picked us up, and we had a nice dinner together at La Estrellita, back home.
Our next trip will be our 3rd Disney cruise when we got to the Virgin Islands, in February. As you would expect I am already hard at work planning that one.