Adventure 524: From Priest to the St. Joe

Rosaila Bay; Eight Mile Island

We've been blessed in recent summers to be able to enjoy Priest Lake at my cousin's cabin in Rosalia Bay. This year, one of the best, had us together at some point of the week with nearly every member of our family showing up for a little while. The weather smiled, the huckleberries thrived, and the water beckoned. There was a wildly successful salvaging operation that recovered both the deck umbrella and its metal base, both of which had tumbled unnoticed (last season) into the lake. Several of our lakers spent time on the stand up paddle boards. We made the tye-dye t-shirts. We ate several meals of "thin gruel". Everyone took a turn preparing and serving; it was all good. We gathered over three gallons of huckleberries, which are very prolific this season. We had so many that Liz Ulmen made a large huckleberry pie instead of the usual cobbler (Which we had, too). In all the week was refreshing, and we're ever grateful to Douglas for his sharing. On Sunday, the kids went back home and Judy took Sawyer to the airport. From the lake, the old folks followed with yet another adventure down along the shadowy St. Joe. Liz and I pull our RVs the five hours from Priest to the Joe, where we found a perfect spot for our five member crew (Ed, Deb Drouin, Liz Ulmen, Me and my Bunny) in the forest service campground called Turner Flats. The St Joe is an awe inspiring river rushing from the peak of Gold Creek down to St, Maries, Idaho, is an area few places on earth can match in majesty. Ancient pines trees fill the steep hillsides in a thick blanket. Eager fisherman catch and release trout in the world class river, and the rest of us camp, enjoying fresh air, fresh smell, plentiful bird calls, buzzing insects, the sound of the rushing river, and a breeze that falls out of the mountains in the morning and rushes uphill in the evening. It's truly a magical place. Over the years we've stayed in sites all along the Joe. This year we spent four nights. We rode bikes, played dominoes, ate more "thing gruel' than we needed read, napped, poked the fire, and even did a little hike. We also ranted a little bit of our displeasure at the state of or country, which echoed a little hollow, much like a feeble excuse a young school boy might fabricate. We are indeed privileged, and regardless of whether we earned our lot through industry, grace or fate, we cannot deny our good fortune. So we choose to enjoy and support each other and the people we love. There are less noble pursuits. The bottom line is: Life is good, especially today, and we're most assuredly grateful to spend some time in the woods of North Idaho.

 Liz and Sawyer loved the twenty feet  to recover the umbrella. The "Liz Mobile".

 Cleaning the umbrella; taking a turn in the kitchen.

Jumping, paddling,  and sitting: the lake good life.

 Tye Dye fun.

 Yo, Momma and Papa.

 Huckleberry pie: Yum!

 Thin gruel: Low Country Boil.

 Then the St. Joe with friends that are also family.

Thin gruel: Ribeye shish-k-bobs.

Electric biker babes.

 Reading.

 jibber-jabber.

 Deep thought.

 Cool tent sight.

 Brownies, cherries, and red wine, Oh, so fine.

 The crew.

 One of the views.