Misguided Wanderings in America by JOHN LEE KIRN - HTML preview

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IDAHO

We pulled on out and would check two possible Forest Service camps along our way. The first was Bull Creek which had about ten spots all of them in deep shade. Nice for a hot day but we needed the sun for the solar panels. The next camp was Big Eddy. This one you drove in on a pothole littered dirt road. Some of the potholes were as big as if a mortar shell had exploded. There were only five spots barely large enough that maybe we could have fit in. All were occupied so no great loss. Just before reaching the Montana/Idaho border sat Driftwood Yard, a wide space at the end of a dirt levee road that led down onto an earthen boat ramp. Several RVs were already occupying the few spots available. We could have driven out onto a grassy field but the wind was really whippin’ and that wasn’t inviting. True to its name the shoreline was stacked high with bleached white driftwood of all shapes and sizes that had blown in from Cabinet Gorge Reservoir. Onward we continued into Idaho for twenty-five miles for a Walmart stay in Ponderay near Sandpoint. Reviews said this Walmart was a frequent habitat for big rig trucks. I expected we would have to move at some point. I was wrong. One semi did park close on the entry side road but shut his engine down right away. Sometimes it is good to be wrong.

While the wind blew, the skies darkened a light rain fell. I tried to make a decision as to where to go next. Northward was the narrow strip of the Idaho panhandle with only one main route. We had been on most of that highway on a previous trip so there wasn’t anything new to see although enough time had passed it would all seem to new to me anyway. To the west only twenty-two miles away sat the Washington state border. Four years ago touring the eastern portion of Washington I ran into the fact that you needed a Washington Discover Pass to stay almost everywhere. I could not figure out how or where one could get this pass which cost thirty dollars and was good for an entire year. After a week of running into this pass requirement at every park and campground we went to I got frustrated and left Washington. Last year I planned on giving Washington another chance. We made it as far as Sisters, Oregon. With all the growing uncertainty of the new pandemic we wound up hunkering down in Sisters for all summer. We never made it to Washington. Now here we were again, seasoned pandemic survivors and could do Washington. I spent nearly an hour online studying their website for purchasing the Discover Pass. I thought I understood it now. Either they made the site easier to use or I was a bit smarter now which I doubted.

The final option would be to travel south to Coeur d’Alene, pick up Interstate 90 and head southeast back into Montana to Missoula (oh joy) then south following the Salmon River for a hundred-sixty some miles. I had never seen any of that country before. There were a number of possible places to stay along that route. Washington wasn’t offering anything interesting north of Spokane (numerous wildfires were in progress in the area) and even less interesting south of Spokane. Then I remembered, everywhere we did stay in Washington four years ago we battled mosquitoes. Plan C was looking better as I went to sleep that night. In the morning I didn’t even give Washington a thought.

About the worst part of this change of mind was when we crossed over into Idaho we entered the Pacific Time Zone. I changed all the timepieces in the RV. Now I would have to change them all back to Mountain Time in a couple of days. Oh the trials and tribulations of living full time on the road. We drove south to Coeur d’Alene and picked up Interstate 90. Ten miles later we turned off onto a road that skirted Coeur d’Alene Lake for a few miles to check out Beauty Creek Campground. The road to the campground led into a narrow canyon yet amazingly there still was cell service. The campground was configured like that of Flint Creek−a straight road lined with camp sites along one side. Heavy brush leaned into the camp road. To drive anything larger than us such as a class A or a huge fifth wheel would mean you’d be trimming the branches with your door, awning and air conditioner. To park such a monstrosity in any site would be nearly impossible or at least not something I would want to contend with. Most of the sites had reserved signs posted. We caught up with camp host Elaine in her electric golf cart. She was out cleaning pit toilets. She asked if I was looking for a spot for one night. I said I was. “I believe number thirteen is available. I’ll lead you back there.” The camp road led up onto the canyon road, we drove back to the entrance then toured the campground a second time. She was right. Thirteen was open. We had a nice place in the sun for eleven dollars and fifty cents, the half-price old person fee. I was hungry for lunch but that would have to wait. Little Miss Impatient had to inspect the new land before I could even think about eating a bite.

Our spot was only good for the one night (reserved campers were due the next day) which was okay as I didn’t feel like staying any longer. There wasn’t much to explore although I did find Beauty Creek itself which was bone dry. The one redeeming factor for this campground was the quiet. No traffic noise, watercraft noise, generator noise, loud talkers or barking dogs noise. That was nice. By the time we got going it was approaching lunchtime. I found a Subway on the edge of the town of Kellogg. I ate half my sandwich there in the parking lot and noticed on the satellite view of the town there was a Les Schwab tire dealer in town. When in Sisters last September just as we were leaving our hunker-down for the summer site I stopped at the Les Schwab in town for a reason I have since forgotten. Anyway the guy pointed out he wouldn’t be able to remove the tire without it failing and he pointed out to me the separation crack all along the bead at the rim. Yikes! We looked at the other tires−same thing. Thinking about the upcoming miles of wasteland in Nevada we were to travel with time bomb tires I didn’t even hesitate in buying six new tires. Unfortunately they didn’t have extended valve stems for the inner wheels on the rear. As such I had been unable to get my tire pressure gauge in there on the short valve stem notwithstanding the fact I couldn’t get an air hose in there either. Les Schwab will check you tire pressures for free. I planned on letting them deal with it for the life of the tires. Ah but soon I learned Les Schwab dealers didn’t extend beyond the Rocky Mountains. Now here I was nearly a year later without ever having my tire pressures checked on the inside rear duel wheels. Being in no hurry to go nowhere I decided to take advantage of this opportunity in town. At the dealer after the guy saw my situation he made a plan to fix the problem with proper valve stems if I wasn’t in a hurry to go anywhere. Cool! In the end they too didn’t have the valve stems that would work. I did get the pressures checked and had lost only five pounds all around over a year’s time so that was nice to know.

We left Kellogg for nearby Wallace. My friend Cindy back in Columbus had said we should go to Wallace on the way. As we had taken a back road route we missed Wallace while traveling westward. Now here we were heading back into Montana and would go through Wallace. Wallace had one of those oddities I like to seek out. This one was their claim that Wallace was the “Center of the Universe”. A manhole cover at the intersection of Bank and Sixth streets marked the exact “center”. Wallace was a cool little town with a lot of shops and eateries in old historic buildings. I was able to see some of it having to park a couple blocks away to go view the Center of the Universe sewer cover. I didn’t go into any shops part of being, well, it’s just more fun to do so with someone else along. Being alone I wasn’t into it. I needed to work on that. Also, I didn’t have a concrete in mind place to stay either. Plus it was getting close to tea time. The story behind Wallace’s claim is a snarky rebuttal to the EPA and Department of Health and Human Services in 2002 when they declared Wallace part of a Superfund Site due to “probable” lead pollution from its nearby mines. Since the pollution couldn’t be proved or disproved, Mayor Garitone reasoned that the Center of the Universe could also be in Wallace, since that couldn’t be proved or disproved either.