Adventure 655: 42nd Annual Nordman Logger's Day

Spring Fling Two found us venturing North to our favorite place: Priest Lake. We had two modest goals: 1) Ride our bikes 2) Attend Logger's Day. We were wildly successful. We camped just off Highway 57 behind a copse of pines next to the airstrip that fronts the Ranger Station at Hanna Flats. Liz nuzzled the Liz Mobile abreast of us, awnings facing in. We had a mini- wagon train circle except we weren't a circle, we were an equals sign. No matter, we had the fire pit I brought, the dry wood Liz brought, and a sky full of bright stars above us. The weather was perfect, we rode thirty-two miles in three trips, and best of all, Logger's Days was a great hit. Somewhere near three hundred folks gathered to watch two-person cross saw races, chain saw races, axe throwing, pole running, and tug of war. Competition was friendly; the contestants were all skilled. People were happy: the beer and jello shots flowed, the food was hot, tasty, and filling, and the vibe was one of warmth and gladness. I saw one masked man; I myself tethered my mask around my neck submitting willingly to a ...When in Rome... mentality.   Justin, TC, and Falcon made the trip, and afterwards joined us for dinner at the campsite. We saw my cousin, Douglas. He had boated over from his cabin with his bike on board. He stopped by the camp sight for a chat on his was back to Noraville. Saturday night Liz and I stayed out until most of the stars blanketed the sky. Since it is a waning sliver of a crescent moon, the sky was dark, and because we were at the edge of the runway, our view was unhindered. And all night long we were serenaded by the frogs. It was quite ironic to choose this weekend's activity given the general populace's political stance, but in every sense this was an example of a close community upholding proud tradition, their own and the country's as well. The event opened on time with a gaggle of elementary school kids reciting the pledge of allegiance. From there the contests were administered with skill, safety, and aplomb. There was a moment of silence midway to remember members of the community who had passed during the past year. It became more of a toast, but it felt pure hearted. People gathered around and cheered each event. A good time was had by all. We left before the event ended because of the obvious flow of beer and  jello shots. Needless to say we didn't want to push our luck. It's true, after all, that the local boys noticed a sissy boy in a dew rag walking around with a couple of biker babes.  Who knows what they were thinking? We made it safely back to camp, and generally realized that life is good, especially today.

The men used this chainsaw to saw three inch disks of this log. The winner's time was well under two minutes.

Chile Verde with Hooley beans and fresh baked corn muffins.

This gal has obviously practiced with the ax a bit. 

Falky out flying a kite with his dad.

Three planes took off during our stay. We saw no landings.

The cross cut competition was fierce for both men and women. Waaaay harder than it looks.

Biker babes up on the porch (They weren't sure they could safely mingle with the locals).

Kicking off the biking season.

There's two biker babes.

Art shot of the day: Falcon and Mimi's reflection