July 2007 trip with Tara

1 July- I didn't sleep well and got a late start out of Portland. Jim made us a good breakfast though, and told us not to clean up the kitchen so we could just take off. We were on the road just before 10am. As soon as I started the car today the "check engine" light came on. This worried me, as the very beginning of my last trip included a $638 brake job. Our first fun stop was Multnomah Falls. I had seen it years ago, but Tara hadn't seen it. A free stop and absolutely jaw-droppingly beautiful. My camera couldn't get the whole falls in, so I took three photos and Paint Shop Pro'd them together later (right).
    One piece of consistent information on this trip was the relentless heat. Through eastern Oregon it was oppressive, and we became a bit vicious looking for shade. I refused to stop at rest areas without shade. But we found a lovely one with shade for car and ourselves, and I made us a picnic lunch because we had brought a cooler packed full of yummies. Tara watched birds nesting above our picnic table. When we got back into the car again, the "check engine" light was off. Yay!
    Just before we reached our destination, we stopped for gas and I locked the keys in the car. We had been just about to go, but decided to grab an ice cream to eat on the way. I left the keys in the ignition and we ran to A&W. That ice cream will DO YOU IN! An hour later we were on the road again, and pulled into Grandpa and Grandma Trulove's TRRR&RR (Trulove River Rat Rest & Relaxation Ranch) near Given's Hot Springs, Idaho.

2 & 3 July- The TRRR&RR is a little slice of heaven. The only difficult thing is spelling the abbreviation right. ;) We lounged, mostly, for two days. Gramilda and Rex live only 30 minutes away from there, and I kept thinking, "I should go and visit them." And then I'd close my eyes and listen to the birds and the wind through the trees. Tara spent as much time as possible splashing in her Grandparent's big pool. It's on the ledge over the Snake River, just like the house, so it reminded me of those resort pools right on the edge of the ocean. We both managed to get pink shoulders and pink noses.
    Their kitties were the friendliest they've ever been with us on this visit. Even Thomas, who is usually content to hide under a bush during my visits, came out and wound himself around my legs a few times. We all missed Eric the Red, who died only recently after a long battle to correct his health problems. He's buried in a pretty little spot in the garden (the hunting grounds he and Thomas used to frequent). We also spent good time with kitties Daisy & Taz, World's Most Beautiful cat Miss Kitty, and new kid on the block: Diesel, a stray who is gradually adopting the family.
    Tara and I made good progress through Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (the 4th book), which we are trying to read quickly because we want to get to the 5th book before we see the movie which is going to be in theatres in a week. It's over 700 pages, so it's taking awhile.

4 July - Today we finally made it to Nampa to visit Gramilda and Rex. Hot, hot, hot. Whoo- that heat is something else when a person isn't used to it. Over 100 Mon, Tues, and today. It felt even hotter while driving in the car through Nampa. It was a great visit and there were more critters: Pulek and Bela the dogs, and Czymyn (I think that's how it's spelled. It's pronounced like Simon). We talked about traveling and different places we had been, and places we liked to go. They both seemed in good spirits and good health, and that's a pleasure to see.
    Back at the ranch, Lason, his new wife Lori, and her daughter Ariel, showed up with Lawton. Lason and Lawton are Michelle's kids. We were sad not to get the chance to visit with LaDale who also lives somewhat nearby with her family, but now that I live closer, hopefully we'll get more opportunities. We had a fabulous meal of bratwurst, chorizos, hamburgers, potato and Mcaroni salads, deviled eggs, cake, chocolate-dipped strawberries and more.
    Between all the "boys," they put on a home fireworks production I have never seen the equal of! Neighbors down the river were cheering OUR fireworks. Ha! It was really a blast, and I - always the rule monitor - played Fire Marshall Bill and continually pestered the girls to keep their sparks away from the house and each other, and not to light their snakes next to the box of matches and other silly, tedious, mom-type scoldings like that. Ariel kept saying, "Crystal, is this ok?" Well, so I'm a fussbudget. The boys played with the explosives, and the rest of us stayed up on the deck and watched. We were up till the wee hours and then everyone finally dragged off. I was so grateful to just be able to crawl into bed instead of begin the long drive home like Lason and Lawton.

5 July - We had a delicious breakfast and Chelle packed us up with loads of food for the cooler. Pa showed me a shortcut to take to avoid the freeway for 100 miles or so. The speed limit out there in the desert on those little two-lane roads is 65 mph. There is just no one out there, not even sheep. Probably due to my recent escape from the East, I found myself frequently thinking how different it is out in the wild West. Vast, vast landscapes with no sign of humanity except for the road I'm on and an occasional sprinkler watering a field. So hot, and so dry out there, it made me homesick for my childhood in Medders (New Meadows for the non-rednecks). The radio station played a song I remember from high school and I - for a split second - almost felt like I was that young person again. Nearly felt that childlike joy of everyday living, you know, how it felt in your chest to be just happy about life and excited because today was another day.
     We had gone 70 miles and the radio station we had tuned in to in Nampa yesterday was still coming in loud and clear. Endless open plateaus of sagebrush are conducive to radio reception. Finally, at 120 miles down the road….we lost the station. Wow. Hit the freeway and the speed limit went up to 75 mph - still barely any traffic.
    We pulled off the freeway and drove out into the desert to Twin Falls for gas and a bathroom, but had to stop at the I.B.Perrine bridge because the view was astonishing. What a canyon! The Snake River was far far below us, so that kayakers seemed about 2 centimeters long. We played there for awhile in the delicious scent of sagebrush, then spotted a Visitor's Center across the canyon so we went there and jumped through their sprinklers, soaking our clothes. We discovered that this is the spot where Evel Kenievel attempted a jump with a rocket-powered motorcycle. (See, Rex? We are getting exposure to Americana, so don't have a cow.) I went in to ask for a map of Idaho, and the woman insisted we visit their falls. The closest one was Shoshone Falls, and since it was lunchtime, I acquiesced. It was about six more miles out of our way - through downtown Twin Falls and then through the suburbs. As we passed a bank, the sign pronounced 103 degrees. Ug. The Twin Falls the town was named after was another 6 miles or so, so we didn't go to that one. The distance is made much farther because of crawling through the packed traffic of the city, and having to stop at all the intersections along the way in that horrid heat.
     However! Shoshone Falls was worth the visit and the entrance fee. First of all, we had lots of shade in a grassy park, where we ate a big lunch. Then we explored the falls, which seemed to me to be higher and more beautiful than Niagara. But I was thinking of Mark's words from our move in May. He said that after all the buildup, Niagara was something of a let down. He said that if we had only heard a little about it, and happened upon Niagara, we would have been blown away - because it really is beautiful and impressive. I thought there was a chance I was more impressed here in Southern Idaho since Shoshone Falls isn't as famous.
     Finally saw some more vegetation outside the city of American Falls, Idaho. The trees and bushes are way prettier to me than endless sagebrush. Still not enough plants for me to live here however. We turned onto Interstate 86, which is even MORE desolate than 84, if that's possible. I wonder if Easterners who have never been out here can imagine these highways: four lanes, surprisingly high speed limits, and no one, almost no one on the road with you that you can see for 50 miles ahead and behind you. We turned off onto I-15, then made our big turn eastward toward Wyoming, and onto smaller highways. 11 miles outside of Swan Valley, Idaho, it gets gorgeous. I could live here! We crossed Pine Creek Pass at elevation 6764 feet, and soon after that, we pulled into the Pine Creek campground in the Targhee National Forest. For $8 we found a beautiful campsite with a creek running through it and lots of biting flies, and we turned in for the night.

6 July - On the road late again - at 9:44am. We had received several suggestions of things to do in Jackson, but it was so jam-packed with people it was stressing me out. Bumper to bumper all the way through, and mine was one of the only cars amidst the monstrous trucks and SUVs all around me. Gaggles of tourists thronging the sidewalks and spontaneously bursting into the streets to cross. It was beyond madhouse. I spotted the gargantuan arched antler gates into the central city park, but other than that park (also packed full of people) Jackson is unrecognizable to me from what I recall as a teenager. Today the city is like a large Vale, Colorado: entirely designed to cater to spoiled tourists, and barely anything resembling the appealing Western town I recall. I'm sure if we stopped for a day or two and wandered, we would find something neat amongst the Banana Republics, Starbucks, Bed Bath & Beyond, McDonalds, Quiznos, T-shirt shops and souvenir shops and signs screaming: Whitewater Rafting! Big Game Hunting! Jetboats! Fish of a Lifetime! Tour the Tetons! … I couldn't think straight. That'll teach me for planning a visit to national parks during 4th of July week. On the outskirts of town we found an awesome visitor center, and it was as good as it could be considering the throngs of people there. It was shoulder-to-shoulder inside (not exaggerating), but such a high-quality place I was glad we stopped anyway. There was a beautiful Elk antler chandelier that reminded me of the antler guitar stands that Jess is building.
     The landscape in every direction is gorgeous. I love mountains best when they are sharp, pointy, and rocky - thrusting high above treeline. I heard somewhere some psychologist's point of view about people who prefer rocky peaks to softer tree-blanketed peaks, but I can't remember what that says about me. The widespread devastation by fire really captures my attention. It's been years since the fires burned here, so nothing is black - just silver-grey spikes of tree trunks spread out everywhere. Since it's national parkland, none of the burned trees are logged, and no human replanting is done. The land is left alone to do what it will do.
I stopped for every single cluster of mountains I could pull over for. Tara was getting tired of it. I paid her back by waiting for her to swim at several of our stops. She was wearing only her swimsuit after awhile, to make it easier to get into the water.
    Near the northern end of Grand Teton NP is Lizard Creek campground, where we found a camp spot at 3 in the afternoon. We paid our $15 and set up our tent, then went north again. Since Yellowstone is so huge, I knew we couldn't do it all in one day, so we went to Old Faithful for the evening, allowing us to skip it tomorrow. The road into Yellowstone crossed the Continental Divide several times, at 7988', at 8391', then 8262'. As we took the exit off the highway, we could see Old Faithful erupting over the tops of the trees: worst possible timing. In the 5 minutes it took us to get to the parking area, the eruption was over and our brochure said its eruptions are going about every 92 minutes this spring. Sigh! It was already after 5pm, and we were exhausted. But with a little encouragement from Mark (we actually had cell phone reception!), we waited it out, and it actually came more quickly than we expected - only about 80 minutes. The eruption lasted around 2 minutes. I was able to get a 30-second video on my camera, and then take a couple of snapshots as well. Yellowstone has over 300 active geysers. Old Faithful is not the tallest geyser, or most predictable, or the biggest, or the longest erupting - or any of those rumours. It is simply the most famous. In a land with that many geysers, it got to where it felt a bit common. "Another geyser going off? Where? Oh yep, I see it. Ok, let's keep going down the path." Afterward, we walked on the paths around the area and saw some of the other geysers right there, as well as some bubbling pools and those beautiful south-pacific sea-looking pools of sparkling blue water in pure white bowls, steaming and bubbling like champagne.
    Then the loooooong sleepy drive back to our camp in the Tetons. While we were gone there had been an afternoon downpour, which soaked our tent and everything in it because I had not put the rain flap up. After temperatures in the hundreds, we didn't mind the damp sleeping bags, however. We were near Lewis Lake, and after we settled in a bit, we went for a walk down on the beach, where there were only two boys down there, trying to take photos of lightning. There was a massive storm on the other side of the lake, and we watched the flashing lightning till it was completely dark, then drug ourselves back to the tent at about 9:30pm. Harry Potter is still compelling enough for us to want to read one more chapter by the light of my headlamp.

7 July - We thought we heard an elk bugle this morning, across the lake. But it doesn't seem like the right season, so maybe it was a human. It was a great day for animals today. I'd like to say they are wild animals, but they are exposed to zillions of humans a day, so they aren't as wild as they could be. Thankfully, many of the tourists are being good about the rules, and I rarely saw people getting too close to any of them. Usually they stayed inside their vehicles, and I didn't spot a single person attempting to feed any of them. However, with the number of ground squirrels begging…it is obvious that tourists consider them to be outside the rules of "Don't Feed The Animals!" Tara spotted two deer in a creek beside the river that we were able to get pictures of, then of course we saw herds of elk lounging in the huge burnt-out fields that used to be forests. Most fun were the bison in three different places that we went to. Tara got some great close-up shots of them without leaving the car.
     The 1988 forest fires in Yellowstone I remember clearly because my Pa worked on them. That was the year I graduated from high school and I was waiting to join the Air Force in September. I took the summer off intending to enjoy my last bit of freedom, and instead broke my toe and hobbled around in a cast on crutches all summer. Anyway, since it's a national park, much of the fire was allowed to burn, and the only suppression was to protect improved property such as buildings and homes. Likewise, the only reforestation has been natural. There would likely have been much bigger trees if this place had been manually replanted, but it is truly humbling to see what Mother Nature does on her own (lest we humans get too full of ourselves). There were billions of trees growing, many 25 feet high or so…and most about 15 feet high.
     We were able to watch pelicans fishing in the river, in large groups. That was an interesting sight. We saw lots of waterfalls, of course, and bubbling mud pots and more geysers and aqua hot springs. Yellowstone is such a magical place. At the top of my list in the past and on this trip is the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone. It is truly remarkable.
     We stopped in the park to picnic and read more Harry Potter. We've saved a lot of money by eating from the cooler. We have only purchased two meals so far in a week. An afternoon storm kicked up and rain came down in bursts, which was so nice because it helped cool things off a bit. We found an added bonus when we stopped at the petrified redwood tree: no tourists! For the first time, we were the only people looking at a point of interest in Yellowstone. Because of the rain, no one would get out of their cars. Still raining, Tara asked me to stop at some corrals so she could look at the big horses there, available for tourists to ride. We decided people are lemmings. While it was raining, we would be the only car stopping at places, but within minutes after we stopped, other cars would pull in behind us and people would jump out of their cars with cameras, thinking that whatever we were looking at must be worth getting into the rain for.
     On our way out of the park, I planned for Mammoth Hot Springs to be our last stop because I remember that it had made such an impression on me when I came here on a high school field trip. Tara and I walked on all the paths around the lower springs. To my great disappointment, most of them were "dead." Information signs around the springs explain that earthquakes will shift where the water bubbles out of the earth, causing some of the springs to burst to life and some to become dormant. We saw terraces covering entire hillsides, all dried up, silvery grey, and crumbling to pieces. I could have sworn these were all gushing gorgeous when I was here before. We walked on all the boardwalks, and finally found a lovely one.
     In this part of the park we are seeing many Germans. They take walking and hiking seriously, and I think some of the trails may not have been up to their expectations. At most points of interest, there were Germans in the parking lot, getting their gear on. Mammoth Hot Springs had boardwalks built everywhere, so no one fell through the crust into a springs. Tara and I were bopping along in flip-flops and skirts, she carrying a map and me carrying a camera. The Germans would come by in their hiking boots and thick sturdy socks (mind you, it's still near 100), with backpacks and hiking poles and everything. There are plenty of great trails in the parks though, so I'm sure they got it all out of their system at some point.
     We were so tired after that, all we wanted to do was find the next available campsite and turn in. We drove and drove. It was a struggle to keep awake. Eventually we came to Norris - a town south of Mammoth. We had accidentally taken a wrong turn and drove 20 miles out of our way back into the park instead of out of it. At park speeds of 25 mph, we ended up taking an extra hour and a half that we didn't have to! It was SO discouraging. The reason we were diverted, however, was so that we could spot a bear. Again, we got awesome photos of it right from the car, as it crossed the road.
     So when we finally did get out of the park, I no longer had the energy to set up a campsite. Tara begged to check on motel prices in Gardiner. The first place we stopped was $112 for a room (this would explain why we've been camping). Tara spotted a place with cabins, and I humored her. To my astonishment, we were offered an "apartment" for $88. This place had two bedrooms & two bathrooms, comfortable sleeping arrangements for at least 7 people, a full kitchen equipped with pots and pans, flatware, and dishes. There was also a washer and dryer we used for free, a full-sized fridge and freezer we used to build up our ice supply in overnight. I did laundry, cleaned the cooler, re-charged the batteries on my phone and camera, showered twice (ha!) and had cell phone reception - Yay!

8 July - We lounged late this morning, in the luxury of the "apartment." I cooked us a great breakfast of toast and scrambled eggs in the morning, using farm eggs from Jim and Larry's chickens, and brewed myself some Peets coffee. Finally out on the road, we saw signs advertising the Testicle Festival. Ha ha, I guess those Rocky Mountain Oysters must be popular here. Most of the day was just getting ourselves through the state of Montana and up to Glacier NP. Signs in Arlee and Ronan proclaimed it was only 87 degrees outside, but it felt much hotter. We kept a lookout for places to swim. On the Flathead Indian Reservation, it was fun to see all the road signs in both English and the Language they use - don't know which it is, but it does remind me of Navajo. We passed the town of Pablo. If I wasn't so tired I would have stopped to send a postcard from there to my friend Pablo attending USC. We crested a bluff and were treated to a splendid view of beautiful Flathead Lake. Our highway took us up the east coast of the lake, and I began looking for campsites. There are many gorgeous estates and orchards along the lake there, while there are still many modest rural homes as well. We stopped at Yellow Bay on the reservation in time to swim the last few hours of daylight. The water was incredibly refreshing. We dove off a dock over and over. This was a fabulous place to camp. There were only 4 campsites total, and all along a rushing creek and in view of the lake. Best of all: we were surrounded by Syringa in full bloom and simply intoxicating me with their perfume.

9 July - The creek must have cooled us down, because I managed to get a little sleep for a change. I was ready to go very early. I got my girl up and we broke camp quickly and were tooling down the road by 6:45am. We found a place to have breakfast in Whitefish, and then entered the park. Tara had purchased a colouring book of Rocky Mountain wildflowers and had it and her crayons at the ready as we went through the park. She wanted to find live examples so she could get her colours right. The wildflowers are going ballistic here in Glacier Park in July. Creeks are roaring and it's the peak of springtime. We found nearly every flower in Tara's book, plus several not in the book.
     It was another day of me taking many pictures of mountains. My only regret is the angle of the sun. Most photos are washed out because of shooting into the sun, or shooting at midday when everything turns white. There was a lot of moisture in the air, which made things hazy all day too. It was stunning to my naked eye, but turns up flat in photos. I wish there was a way to adequately describe the mountains there. The Going to the Sun road was open this time (it was not open when Mark and I came through a month ago), and so we were able to get to the heart of the park. Glacial activity is obvious: gigantic curved cirques in the walls, valleys through 9000 foot peaks that are carved smooth and symmetrical, cliffs made out of hexagonal rods of igneous rock bursting upward from the ground. There are peaks sharpened by competing glaciers on either side of a ridge, and waterfalls cascading from hanging valleys: some so high the water seems to evaporate before it touches the earth below.
    In this heavenly land, it was almost no surprise to come face-to-face with wildlife we had never seen before. My delight was the Bighorn Sheep, and Tara was thrilled with the marmots (partially explained by her being 9 and me being 37). We stopped for lunch at the top. Gramilda was right when she pointed out that the biggest problems with tourist season in the parks is the parking. There were several times in Yellowstone and in Glacier where we were forced to skip something because there was no parking available. At the Visitor's Center at Logan Pass, there is a big parking lot that seems like it would accommodate 200 vehicles, but we circled the damn place for twenty minutes without finding a spot for the Dragon Wagon! We finally spotted a vacated space, and sped toward it, but were halted immediately by screeches from people on all sides: "Don't even think about it, Lady!" Apparently that space belonged to someone else. I left the parking lot at that point. We backtracked down the mountain and found a great parking spot at the last point of interest we had passed before the Visitor's Center.
    We then spent the next hour wandering trails and having lunch out above treeline as a midday storm blew in. We had been sweltering in the relentless sun for days, so it was a delight to pull on long pants and sweaters before we left the car. It only sprinkled rain, but we were quickly enveloped in clouds and fog and brisk winds. Within minutes of beginning our walk, German visitors pointed out a baby Mountain Goat to us, and as it skipped away from all the eager snapping cameras, it startled a marmot. Later we walked up the hill to the Visitor's Center, and watched three HUGE Bighorn Sheep cross the road in front of us. We clambered across hills and through trees following them, and I managed to get some stunning photos. By the time we reached the town of St. Mary's at the eastern entrance to the park, the clouds were gone and it was in the 90s again.
     We turned north and into our next big adventure: Canada. The northern part of Glacier crosses the border and is Waterton Lakes Park, which is in Canada. Tara received her passport last summer, and has been dying to go somewhere with it. We pulled up to the border with eager anticipation, and were surprised to have a difficult time with entry into the country. It hadn't occurred to me that they would be on the lookout for child kidnappings. I had to go through some extra paperwork and trouble and swallowed pride to get permission from her father to even get her a passport. Because of all that, I assumed that since he agreed that she could have a passport, then he implicitly agreed that she could travel. Nope. They wanted a signed letter from her dad, which we did not have. The man at the border stopped talking with me and addressed Tara directly, asking questions about where her dad was, where did she normally live, why was she going to Canada, and did her dad know she was going to Canada. Tara was a champ and answered clearly and honestly all questions. We were finally allowed through the border with a thorough scolding for not having a permission slip. We cheered our success, and quickly found another campsite. I paid with a check since I didn't have any Canada currency on me. I didn't know what the exchange rate was, so instead of 14.85 that was required, I paid 15.00 U.S., and hoped it was enough (it turned out the exchange rate was about 94¢ on the dollar, so I was good).

10 July - We saw a moose as we left our campsite this morning. I think that just about covers every large animal we could have expected to see! ha ha. Well, I guess we didn't see any cougar, caribou, or reindeer, so I'll keep my mouth shut so I don't jinx myself. We were served the Most Disgusting Breakfast Ever in Pincher Creek, Alberta. Not that I expect a whole lot from teensy towns to begin with, but how badly can a cook screw up breakfast? Well, apparently, enough to make it inedible. We had scrambled eggs, sausage and toast, and neither of us ate any of it beyond bites to taste. We were starving too, having skipped dinner because our cooler was out of food and there were no restaurants to be found. We left as quickly as we could. The waitress was the biggest sweetheart, so I didn't want to complain to her, but she did look concerned.
    There is a lot of mining in this part of Canada. Coal mining especially. An eye-catching peak of Mt. Hosmer in British Columbia has a coal legend surrounding it. Apparently fortune-seeking William Fernie came to the region long ago and wooed the heart of an Indian Princess. Once Fernie learned the location of the rich local coal deposits, he dumped the princess. The legend of the Ghost Rider is inspired by a shadow which appears in the shape of a horse and rider on Mt. Hosmer. The shadow is apparently the old Chief and his daughter angrily chasing the dishonorable Fernie.
    We got a kick out of the regular highway signs telling us "Litter barrel ahead." Sure enough, there would be a pull-out with a trash can. I forgot how amusing I find the fashion sense of western Canadians. Funny, dowdy clothing and haircuts that strike me as odd. I would call it tacky. Pink velour sweatpants with a blue button-down blouse, and rubber clogs, or brown polyester slacks with a fleece pullover and a yellow plastic sun visor. …Just… odd combinations of things. Sort of like the wizard attempts at dressing Muggle-style in Harry Potter. Their towns are nearly as tacky. It made me think again of Niagara, and all the glamour on the Canada side vs. the modest U.S. side. It's so hard to explain this stuff, except that it catches my attention. There are frequent highway signs, for example, that are giant elk silhouettes made of plywood and painted white, which have red reflectors for eyes. Not exactly sure what they mean, but I imagine they are a warning to travelers that elk could be a highway hazard. It's just… odd.
     We arrived at my mother's house in North Idaho, after another rousing interrogation at the border. They were somewhat startled to see that we had been allowed into Canada in the first place. The man at the border this time asked Tara directly "Are you being kidnapped?" She giggled shyly and answered no. She told me later, "That's such a dumb question. If I was being kidnapped, I would be screaming. But no, I love my mother!" She said she wished they had asked her more questions because she felt like they were treating her like a grownup and she felt important. After they went through all their questions to Tara they appeared satisfied and then asked me the questions about buying or selling things in Canada, and was I carrying any fruit. They searched the cooler… then commented about how empty it was. Ha ha!

11 & 12 July - Spent the next couple days with Mom. It was hot, hot in north Idaho. She needed me to help her finish her chicken house. Mom's great with building and construction, and did a beautiful job of the house itself, with a grain room and roosts and the adjacent pen, but she felt unsure of her balance putting on the tin roof all alone up there (she usually works on stuff when Jim is gone to work). So she handed me a drill and a bag of screws, I climbed up and she handed sheets of tin up to me. After awhile I got used to walking on the slanted roof without my belly doing flip-flops. The roof got done the first day, and the second day, we improved the chicken wire around the outside and top…to protect them better from creatures. Tara got to go swimming in the community pool with her friend Melina, and we all got to go visit a beautiful piece of property up near Porthill, Idaho. There are only a couple places I've ever decided would be a dream come true place to live, and this valley is one of them. I have told Mom for years that if I could, I would live there. Surrounded by mountains, but with exceptional soil and a fabulous growing season for such a northern place, I think I could be happy to retire here. Mom took me to her favourite store in Bonners Ferry, and we had delicious gourmet lunches worthy of any trendy shop in downtown Portland. Other than stores changing owners, Bonners never seems to change either. What is it about small towns that keeps them the same forever? Mom says it's reassuring to her. I guess it is to me too, in a different way. I like to come back and visit a place that hasn't changed, but then I want to eventually go home.
     Friday we left early and got back to The Uncles' place about 5:30pm. So nice to be home and a complete family again.