Well, my Flex-Plan is back on its revised course… I arrived at the cabin on the designated afternoon… a tad later than I’d planned… Naturally I had missed a turn and gone too far; but, after backtracking I did find it, though, and all was well…
By the way, I realize and appreciate that GPS would solve a host of navigational issues for me, but… I gave in on the iPhone thing, but I’m drawing the line here! I’m not really engaged in some protest against the advances of technology, but I am resistant to the idea I have to have the latest and greatest new gadget. Besides, missing turns can actually be fun if you manage to stay out of trouble…
We left the motel and rode the better part of two blocks to the restaurant in Lolo that had been recommended by a motel staff member. Great place for breakfast, she’d said, and it turns out she was right!
It was another of those Omni-present casino, bar, restaurant affairs, and this one was quite nice. It even had an antique gun display that would have warmed the heart of even a modest 2nd amendment defender. There is this one thing, however…
No grits, of course, so I ordered the home fries. I do admit taters can be really good, and, in fact, I really like them a lot… with other meals. They will do as a ‘filler’ in a pinch for breakfast, but they’re definitely not my first choice. The home fries they served at this place were not quite up to even a mediocre standard, but they were fairly typical of what I find in many restaurants.
What is it with non-southerners? Do they just not get it…? Are they locked into that delicacy being too closely associated with the stereotypical image of unsophisticated redneck boobs putting what some consider pig sloop down their gullets?
Most Yankees I know who’ve actually tried grits admit to liking them… and who could blame them! Anyway, I suspect I may be going into the early stages of grits withdrawal now… and it’s possibly affecting my temperament. I don’t mean to offend anyone; it just defies understanding by this corn aficionado…
We rode off from the restaurant and logged nearly three miles before I relented and pulled over. All my wishful thinking and rationalized consideration had not let it come to pass… I would after all be needing that second sweatshirt and those cute chaps of mine… I’ve been told those don’t make my butt look big… but then nothing else does either…
We rode from Lolo, MT, over Lolo Pass and into Idaho. Not a challenging ride by any means, just a leisurely ride through sweepers mostly, up over the top, which isn’t particularly high, just a long, surprisingly pleasant ride through the wilderness with occasional stopping places… PLUS, rest areas and other ‘outhouse’ toilet facilities placed at what I consider very sensible intervals…
We arrived in Kooskia, ID, in the early afternoon, where the first turn off US 12 was to be made… (I did make that one all right.) I topped off, bought a couple of cooler sandwiches, candy bars, and soft drinks to tide me over until I could go grocery shopping, then took a nice break.
There was no comfortable place to loiter and kill some time at the store, but directly across the street was the post office… AND, it had a bench right out front that was in the shade! My host had asked me to delay my arrival until late afternoon, so he could finish making preparations… I’d agreed.
I pulled the short distance across the street and parked right in front, then assumed my position for the next hour or so… A few locals walked past to go inside, all smiled and spoke, and this appeared to be a downright friendly little town. After a while, and elderly gentleman parked right behind ALI, then walked over to me. He proceeded to sit next to me and begin chatting.
He was a retired local school teacher, and he seemed really friendly. Having lived in cities, I’m always instinctively cautious of this sort of thing, but… I’ve also spent much time in small places like this, too, so I know not to read too much into it.
He turned out to be a great guy. Very pleasant, quite knowledgeable and willing to share what he knew about this area. He was reasonably well traveled, so he was wise in the ways of the world and in possession of a broader understanding of a wide range of different matters. A delightful but unexpected encounter, we passed half an hour or so in interesting conversation.
This isn’t the first time I’ve had this happen. In fact, it is almost common to find myself chatting with total strangers, often seniors, but younger folks too, most often in out of the way, smaller towns and hamlets like Kooskia. I’ve come to regard it as usually one of the highlights of any road trip!
Like two ships passing on the high seas, each skipper offering a genuinely respectful tip of the hat to the other. Without knowing any of the details of the other’s voyage, each knows of the challenges overcome by the other just to have gotten that far and to be there, and they acknowledge their respect that their respective ‘vessels’ appear to be in good order… Yep, a highlight for sure…
The departure time finally arrived… I mounted our girl and headed off in the proper direction down ID HWY 13. What a delightful day this had been, and this particular leg of the ride was icing on the cake! A smaller road, it followed the South Fork of the Clearwater River for several miles. These roads always have more curves, ups and downs, beautiful scenery, and thought-provoking features than larger roads can offer, and this route did not disappoint.
I must have become partially mesmerized by my surroundings, because before I knew it, I was ten miles or so too far along, and I was entering a town I’d seen on the map… The town of Grangeville was one I’d known I wouldn’t be entering this day, unless… I had…
I pulled into the parking lot of a local home improvement store, parked, and took a seat in one of the several patio chairs on display outside the entrance. I called my host-to-be, explained my error, got a couple more tid-bits of instruction, then headed back up ID 13. Twenty minutes later I was putting the kickstand down at our new home for the next five days.
And what a home it was! Not the Hilton, of course, nor some castle on a hill; however, it was very nice, clean, spacious, well-appointed and well equipped… Heck, there was even a quart of orange juice, a pound of bacon and a carton of eggs waiting there for me in the fridge! Darn nice touch, and it seemed to set the tone for the rest of my stay…
Perfect for my needs, and the setting was arguably the best feature of all. I liked the cabin and my host right off… and, I came to like them both even more each day. It had exceeded my expectations, and now I was even more glad I’d taken it than I had been before. Dang, I sure would rather be lucky than good!
A pleasant evening capped off a really great day, as I indulged myself by watching the season opening game of my favorite college football team, then an early turn-in in one of the two quite comfortable queen-sized beds…
Although it was rather cool that evening, cold by this Florida boy’s sensitivities, the ample covers on the bed made it most tolerable. Not exactly like the Glamping (Glamor Camping) experience I shared with some others a year and half ago near West Yellowstone, but the temps did bring that to mind. I would look for and find the heater controls bright and early the following morning, however…