Forays into Travel Blogging: Days 36 & 37: Idaho into Montana

Monday morning’s trip to the Columbia River Gorge was so, so beautiful. The gorge was filled with lush, green plants; startlingly yellow rocks; and a crisp, blue river. The combination was remarkable and left me wishing I had artistic abilities so I could capture the views. We stopped at the town of Hood River on the recommendation of my cousin Dave – we thought to grab an ice cream cone and carry on in short order but ended up wandering around the town for nearly two hours. Hood River is, apparently, the kite boarding capital of the US and it was easy to see why: the gorge is protected enough to have lovely water, but angled such that the wind breezes along with predictability. We watched the kite boarders and wind surfers for a while, ate our ice cream cones from Mike’s, and window shopped at the many artisan shops along the main drag.

Mural in Hood River

Along the Columbia River Gorge

Even the view from the back seat was stunning

When we finally dragged ourselves away from Hood River it was to seriously cover some ground. We planned a final stop before leaving Oregon so that we could get cheap gas pre-Washington. That backfired, as so many of our plans do, and the gas was $0.20/gal cheaper on the other side, but we didn’t learn that until AFTER we had a lovely little local diner lunch at a spot called Rae’s Dayz in Umatilla, OR. Realizing that, yet again, our gas purchase was done at precisely the wrong time to maximize savings was a little easier with full bellies. AND this diner had maybe the best beef barley soup ever.

Our stopping point for the day was to be Coeur d’Alene, ID at the recommendation of a work colleague. He was so right; the town was very cute. We got checked into our traveler’s motel and headed out bar hunting. We ended up at a spot called Moose’s Lounge (apt) and then strolled around town a little bit. One of Coeur d’Alene’s claims to fame is that Condé Nast took a liking to it and named the town’s namesake hotel the Best Inland Resort in the US. Part of the reason for that determination is Coeur d’Alene’s other major claim to fame: home of the longest floating boardwalk in the world. We wanted to scope this out and had images of fudge shops and tacky tee shirts floating in our heads. We were disappointed to discover that Idaho doesn’t take its boardwalk styling cues from Wildwood, NJ and instead its boardwalk was basically a publicly-accessible marina with a foot bridge so boats can get out. Not an ice cream shop in sight. We were bummed to be leaving Coeur d’Alene in the morning (add it to the list of places we wished we had more time to explore), but Montana was calling.

Coeur d'Alene boardwalk

Murals in Coeur d'Alene

Street Art

Coeur d’Alene is in Idaho’s panhandle up north, so getting to Montana was quick business in the morning. Getting to Kila, a little town west of Glacier National Park, took a bit longer and meant lots of time to appreciate Montana’s beauty. You’re hard pressed to find a road in the area we were traveling that isn’t designated scenic highway, but fortunately for us, Dad’s Peace Corps friend, Allyson, is from the state and gave us suggestions when we saw her on Saturday. We did a little detour through the Camas Prairie to see – bear with me here – dirt ripples.

Somewhere, ID

In case you didn’t know it, we’re a nerdy bunch. So when Allyson told us on Saturday about this mega lake that drained in the last ice age (several times, apparently) and left behind ripples in the ground (like those you’d see at the bottom of a creek or any flowing water, really) we were intrigued. Except unlike creek ripples, these ripples at 45 FEET HIGH in some places. Glacial Lake Missoula was so huge (over 1000 ft deep when it drained) that the ripples from its rapid draining are correspondingly huge. Looking out over a grassy prairie and realizing that we were standing at the bottom of an ancient lake bed and seeing the evidence of it before our eyes was pretty neat.

Our drive from there extended northward along the edge of Flathead Lake. It seemed like the entire hillside next to the lake was filled with cherry orchards, so we spent most of the drive Zillow-ing prices for buying a lake-front cherry orchard.

Flathead Lake cherries

Our AirBnB for the night (the final one planned for the trip, to Dad’s delight) was a bit off the beaten path. Kila is a tiny town, but we were on a side road, 3.5 miles off into the blue. Our instructions were to drive to the end of the driveway when we arrived, and, if we had a 4x4, to take the hill up to our cabin. There was some confusion about what “end of the driveway” meant when the drive split into two, and Mom was fed up with listening to backseat drivers. We saw the cabin and she wasn’t at all perturbed by the giant hill in front of us; she went for it. Dad’s Daily Report may have exaggerated the 45° hill, but honestly, it didn’t feel like he exaggerated by much. There were trees in tight on both sides of the drive and the gravel and dirt was dry and dusty from lack of rain so we were slipping the whole way up – maybe 20 feet of drive. I was sure we were about to be REALLY glad we paid for the optional insurance on our rental car. But Mom, bless her, showed that hill who’s boss and we made it. Our hosts later told us that they wouldn’t ever take a car up the hill – they use it with their 4-wheelers. Good to know.

The place was a little bit of a menagerie. I walked back down the hill after we were settled in (almost slipped and slid on foot, too) to say hello to our hosts and poor Tammy was in the middle of cooking dinner. She had a baby goat trailing her when she came out to greet me; “Have you ever fed a baby goat?” So that’s how Willie the Goat and I met, and that’s how I bottle fed my first baby goat.

Bella

"we're offering kittens to everyone who stays with us... do you want to take a kitten home?"

Obviously we did. But allergies.

Willie

Ted

The local critter population extended much beyond the domesticated bunch, though, and the cabin we were in had beautiful big picture windows for watching them. Hummingbirds zipped through the area all evening and in the morning, deer munched on the corn we left out for them with barely a second glance at us, 3 feet away through the window.