Adventure 271: Rock Springs Wyoming

Headin' to the Weddin'

At 6:30 AM, I hugged my buddy, Dave Ulmen, good bye. Then Judy and I drove 409 uneventful miles through the spectacular backroads of Southern Idaho and Western Wyoming. For many miles we enjoyed mountain ranges in the distance, including a long look at the Tetons. This is a nice time to travel this area because things are green. In reality, at this altitude the snow has just recently left. We had a great time in Challis, including a trip back to the 1880s yesterday with a visit to the ghost town, Bayhorse, Idaho which boomed to a population over three hundred thanks to a multi-million dollar lead silver vein. Now the only thing left is buildings battered by the weather, machinery rusted useless by time, scars left on the earth, and a few scant tales of a life so rugged it took the promise of glittering riches to draw people there. The men, immigrants from all over, hoped to strike it rich. There were few women in residence, and those who did make it up to the mines either worked for profit or were single women scooped up quickly into marriage. This brings me to the marriage question of the day. When is a married couple no longer considered newly wed? For example, Miss Kate's lovely older sister, Kim, who is married to a really lucky guy named Micah Kulp, has been married for three years. My lucky son and his wife, Bonnie, who have two school age princesses, are entering their second decade. Is there a cut-off? I'm not sure. I know many long married men who lovingly refer to their spouse as "my bride" and even a few crass Cro-Magnums who mutter, "the wife". But I digress. If the definition of newlywed is that happy glow of a new life together, I can say in my experience, the newness wears off, but if the relationship is fed properly, the glow lasts forever. Speaking of glow, tomorrow night we'll visit Tim and Carissa Ulmen (Married at least five years) who are expecting their first child due in early July. Lightbulb! I just realized the sequence-attraction, courtship, commitment, vows, shared life, loss, renewal, (the richer and the poorer et al)-one great newly wed experience after another. Like I'm fond of saying, "It's all the same day." I suppose that's why life is good, especially today.

Bayhorse mining operation. The owners of this processing operation are likely the only ones to make a profit.

One of the seven saloons next to the local  madam's house.

Snow just a few thousand feet up from the town. Bayhorse Lake: 8640 ft.

Proper foot wear is always advised.

Today's views included this scene.

A nice lunch stop in Cokeville, Wyoming.

Another sad Oh, so close moment for the Wiley Cager.   

She had to find solace in the majestic scenery.

Adventure 270: Challis Hot Springs/Post D

I really, really love the comfort of food. I love everything about the process from the selecting of ingredients to the preparation to the sharing. It may be the sharing I love most. Whenever we're with any of our friends or relatives we literally plan the next food event while we're enjoying the current feast. Maybe it's the anticipation; I don't know. But it got me to thinking about what feeds a marriage. I can't speak for others, but for me and Judy it's little things-like kissing often, wintling (Defined as a tight hug mixed with unmoving feet, which provides the solid foundation for a gentle sway back and forth like willows in the wind), and of course, the small kindnesses like a warm wash cloth in the morning, or warming the bed on a winter's night. For our friends, the Ulmen's it's coffee served in bed by one or the other and love notes left in lunches. And most assuredly it's all the rules set forth in First Corinthians 13. For about to be weds like Kate and Scott, it's starting with like minds because as sure as the sun rises anything is possible if two at least believe. The hard part after starting is to keep that faith alive through all the silent sufferings such as socks left on the floor, and seats up, and sudden inexplicable crying fits, and unspoken wishes screaming like white elephants in the room. But growing together like two strong grafts, bound by promise, is like vitamix feeding a relationship. What feeds a marriage? joy, experience, tolerance, trust, and of course there is always the unconditional love. As Judy and I were saying today: we spend nearly everyday together. That's 24/7/365 for those keeping score. Actually, it's really something like 355 on average, but whatever it is it's a lot of socks to pick up. I don't feel right describing the mundane travelogue of our last day in Challis, but suffice to say, life is good, especially today.

The first photo was breakfast: A Mario Batali recipe of poached eggs in tomato sauce served over toasted garlic bread topped with fresh parmesian cheese and   garnished with a sprig if basil. For lunch, a hand formed burger made from local fully fatted beef at the Sawmill Junction halfway between Challis and Stanley.

I think this is a picture of Scott and Kate's first home. I can't be certain since it was reported on Fox News.

Sixty plus years of marrige represented in this selfie.

Art shot of the day: Love grows round and round.

Adventure 269: Challis Hot Springs/Post C

Smile, Stanely.

We hit the road with the chickens this morning, for two reasons. First to eat breakfast at the quite fabulous Stanley Baking Company, and second to ride next to the gorgeous Sawtooth Mountains. I love well prepared food (Probably explains my growth spurt), and this place was worth the twisting, turning sixty mile drive up the Salmon river. Also worth it was the ride. We didn't ride that far (24 miles), but we did enjoy the view. We also got to share another day with our good friends, the Ulmens. Dave and I taught together for the last twelve years of my thirty-one year career. It was like a good marriage. Our constant collaboration made for a great working situation, and our students benefitted greatly. Now that we're retired, we've cintinued the relationship. I've been thinking about marriage quite a bit thanks to Miss Kate's proposed entry into the realm. In a good marriage, the love grows along with the friendship, but what lasts after the body parts sag and the memories run together is the companioship. There's also much confort that comes from the sharing, even when you get to the point where you have to re-invent the memories. Recently, I heard a snippet from one of Mr. Trump's panderings in which he espoused that for America to be great again, we must be wealthy. For me, wealth is relative. I'm weathy enough financially, but more importantly, I'm fabulously wealthy in love, health, and friendship. And next to Scott Kempf, I'm the luckiest guy on the planet. I guess if reasonable men agree to disagree, one subject that can be in question is what defines wealth. I believe all that glitters is not gold. I must add that I'm also wealthy in terms of grace (Undeserved for sure). Therefore, I state from the lofty perch of my kingdom's throne, "Life is good, especially today.

Me and my Bunny reenacting a past love moment.

Come to this place right away!

The Basque Scramble and a half order of bisquits and gravy.

They even named a creek after me. I must be lucky.

Just s small sample of the grandeur.

Can you imagine living here then?

Art shot of the day: Crystal Green Persuasion.

Adventure 268: Challis Hot Springs/Post B

Wild Idaho.

 I was happily basking in the hot pool by myself (An Unrealistic expectation) when three females, two women and a teen girl entered. The teen girl asked her mother, "Do you want to hear a joke?" "Sure, the suffering mother replied." "Two ants, a boy and a girl, fell into a pool. The girl ant drowned. What happened to the boy ant?" After some lame guess by mom, the girl answered, "He floated. He was buoyant." Not long after, a man about my age came in and commented that "Pepe' the skunk was stinking the camp up. It occured to me that the young girl had no understanding that this man was referring to a cartoon popular in a certain era. It highlights how difficult communication, especially ideological communication can become. The women left and this man began regaling me on the subjects of prick bastard environmentalists (Direct quote), the myth of global warming, and if I'd been willing to engage, a myriad of other sensitive issues. So mostly I stayed quiet, safe in my own space (Which by the way would be equally baffling to him if the truth be known.) Instead, I relished the memories of yet another "life is good" day. We rode twenty-four miles, and my knee did not complain. I got to view Mt Borah (12,662) the highest peak in Idaho's Lost River Range. I also stood next to the remains of the fault left behind from the 7.3 earthquake in the 1980's. The land dropped seven feet along a fault twenty-two miles long. Here I can agree with my anti-environmentalist pool mate. Mother Nature is indeed a powerful force, although I stop short of agreeing that the sulfur pools in Yellowstone cause more damage to the environment than all the auto emissions and Greenhouse gasses combined, but like I said. I didn't engage. I had to leave the pool when the serenity was completely disrupted by a couple of loud and inebriated fellows who threatened to enter the pool via cannonball. As I walked back across the grounds of the camp ground enjoying the serenading birds, I was once again thankful for this country's mosaic, our freedom to choose, and ever mindful of how difficult it is to reach consensus-especially in light of Ben Franklin's observation that "It's good to be a rational man, for a rational man can make up a reason for anything he wants to do." I agree. My reasoning tells me that life is good, especially today.

The Wiley Cager disguised as a biker babe.

Here she is up to her old tricks.

Mt. Borah (Center) in the distance.

The trailhead to climb Mt. Borah. Ropes and ice axes required. Sixteen hours round trip.

The Lost River Mountain Range.

Art shot of the day. Bike Towel.

Adventure 267: Challis Hot Springs/Post A

Just Chillin'

Maybe it's because it's the last week of birthday month (65), or perhaps it's the Vince Flynn CIA killer thrillers I've been consuming. It could even be the effects of Memorial Day, but this morning a morbid thought passed through my brain like a mountain squall. That is: Most of my favorite musicians are dead, which is only significant because it forces me to live in the past. I wish they were still here to usher me into the future, to help me add layers of nuance to an already blessed life. Those who know me realize that I believe the future is now, right now here in the good life, but I've been thinking of how way leads on to way. For example, where are all those years that I've spent as a married man (17 to Anne; 27 and counting to Judy)? They've been good years for the most part, which is why young prople like Scott and Kate have so much to hope for. And Hope is good. So is Love. So is time. And time is precious. Today we had a great time wandering South along the Bitteroot Mountain range. We followed the Salmon river for much of our day after cresting Chief Joseph Pass. It is amazing to think Lewis and Clark trudged along much our same route. Who had more hope, courage, and perseverence than those men? Many, I'm sure. Even myself in some small way. So here's my hope for all of us, and that includes newlyweds, oldlyweds, and soon to be weds. Decide what is truly important, persevere, and always trust in Hope. In fact, hug it tight for life is good, especially today.

Dropping a few "Tubmans" along the way.

Our home for the next four nights. America is already great despite what Mr. Chump Trump says.

The cool pool is 98.7 degrees.

The hot pool is 105-107 degrees.

Camp site #27 overlooks the Salmon River.

Selfie of the Day. You know the line: "We may not be good looking, but we're looking good."

Art shot of the day: Reflections Vary

Adventure 266: Inspiration Point/Miss Kate's Wedding/Missoula, MT

Hey, Miss Kitty

Here we go again on our singular attempt to recycle as many Tubman's as we can into America's economy: Gas, food, trinkets, we'll spring for it all. Our niece, Miss Kate Friesen, will wed Mr. Scott Kempf (The luckiest guy on the planet) on  June 11. We're taking the opportunity to add some new Fric and Frac adventures along the way. Our first stop on the trip is Missoula, Montana where we're nicely nestled into site C2 here at Jim and Mary's RV Park. Before we left this morning, we stopped by to enjoy breakfast with my father and his lovely new friend, Vina Mikkelson. Afterwards, our drive of three hours was uneventful, though we washed through several cloudbursts. After setting up, we took advantage of a weather window to ride along the Milwaukee Path in Missoula. The path, quite nice, meanders East/West through the streets of Missoula. One astonishing note is the fact that every car stopped without any sign of rancor to give us right of way. After our ride, we walked the streets of downtown until our noses led us to a fabulous brew pub where we had a flat bread hors d' oeuvre which was slathered with caramelized onions, portobello mushrooms, sun dried tomatoes, pesto, and goat cheese. For liquid, Judy ordered a nice amber called "Junk Yard Ale" (Life is too short to drink bad beer), and since I don't drink any more, I just took a sip of Judy's. So, obviously, we're up to our old tricks. We've slipped into this routine like it was a well loved cashmere sweater. We're very fortunate and our hearts, minds, and bodies are snuggled in to a place of welcomed warmth. Therefore, we must conclude that life is good, especially today.

Cribbage Note: TW-1; Wiley Cager-0

Judy thought she'd miss the garden, so she packed some of it.

Dad and Vina: "Who woulda thunk it?"

Selfie of the day.

Missoula, a college town, is extremely bike friendly.

Lots of cool architecture in Missoula.

And surfing too!

Not to mention the spawning sand salmon.

Tamarack Brewing Company: Flatbread.

We really liked it.

Adventure 265: Heyburn State Park 2016

Holy Frac! 

What a gift we have! A little more than an hour away from our door, we can enter a wooded world complete with bugs sparkling in the sunlight, fresh scented cedars, pines, and fir. A bright sky peeked through the evergreens on through the day toward evening shadows. The campground, Hawley's Landing, is quiet save for the periodic back flutter of logging trucks not too far in the distance. It is North Idaho, after all. Geese honk as they pass over, and in special moments, morel mushrooms pop up just to be plucked and sauteed in butter. Best of all, the campground is connected to the Trail of the Coeur d'Alene's, Idaho's premier rail trail. The paved road from the campground to the trail is just about a mile. After two years of the RV life, this place is still one of our favorites. Judy commented on the way home that even after just two nights, it felt like we'd been out for months. Life is definitely good, especially today, and we're ever thankful. This particular trip, we had an extra dose of good love. Our grand daughter had left us love notes stuck the trailer wall. It felt good to share the "Family Love", as Miss Emily put it. 

 We had to take a quick dip before we headed out.

Of course, there had to be Cottage Cheese Pancakes.

There's the Bunny, levelheaded as usual.  Better yet, so is the trailer.

A walk back from the lake trail.

The start of the evening fire.

Miss Emily's notes.

:)

For these being the "Go-Go" years, there's quite a bit of sitting.

And some riding, too. Few things are better than a ride to Harrison for lunch.

Pastrami with Provolone on Wheat :)