Day 40: Heading in a northerly direction.

Athol, Idaho

Distance for the day: 393.7 km

Cumulative distance: 9,107.5 km

Top speed: 130 kph

Moving average: 78 kph

Temperature:  14.0 - 30.2 

We were awake early. Really early: 4:30 am to the sound of birds singing their hearts out. Isn't spring past? They should be raising families by now. I will say that they sound happy, even though they should be sleepting. We talked about getting up then and getting going.

The next sound we heard was rain falling on the tent. Not nearly as cheerful as the birds singing. But it fell. The NEXT sound we heard was snoring. BOTH of us! We were convinced that when we were awake, we were awake for good but asleep we were until just after 7:00 am. We did get up then but everything was wet: the tent, the fly, certainly the ground sheet, we even had moisture inside the tent. Camping is hard enough without the rain; I have long since lost the desire to beat nature. I just want it to be easy. I feel I can confidentely say the same for Nan.

So, it takes a little longer to get organized when everything is wet. But we did get packed and we were on the road by 8:45. For the first time in several weeks, we start out wearing pants (as opposed to shorts) andour heated jackets, but without the heat. Even though the weather looks to be threatening somewhat, it is actually warmer than we expected at 14. By the time we were pulling away from the campground, we had already seen 10 motorcycles ride by. They must not have been camping. 

The last 40 km of the park was really lovely and oddly enough, I had a slightly different perspective on the landscape today than I did yesterday. We had been camping and riding by the Lochsa River which carves a beautiful figure in the valley. But once again, we were riding without a destination. That was in part because there was no cell service last night so we could not do any route planning. Nonetheless, we rode until we could get a nice coffee and some internet (to update the blog) and to find a destination. We are starting to look at the route home a little more carefully, so looking at one potential route home, we targeted an interim destination of St. Maries, Idaho and we would decide our final destination when we got there. 

We spent most of the morning riding alongside rivers and abandoned rail lines. Both made for interesting viewing. The railway was clearly long-since used since it was well overgrown with weeds, shrubs and bushes. However, we came along a section that had much rolling stock, mostly flatbed cars, the kind I presume are used for transporting c-cans as well as a smaller number of cars used for hauling logs to be processed into lumber. It was amazing how many rail cars were parked on this abandoned line, perhaps thousands as they went on for ten or twelve kilometres. Hard to understand how they can park that much rolling stock and abandon it because the rail line didn't look in good enough shape to retrieve the cars.

Orofino. Many of the place names in the
 last two days have Italian origins.

We did, in time, turn off Hwy 12, crossed the Clearwater River and into the hills on a

Abandoned rolling stock south of Kendrick.

shortcut to Hwy 3, which would take us north. This little shortcut took us over McGary Grade Rd, which took us over the hills to Kendrick but in the process, down a 9% grade. Not Bella Coola steep but steep and twisty enough that I kept the bike geared down and my hand on the brake.

The hills above Kendrick.

Kendrick is a typical small, old US town with buildings usually made of brick, from the late 1800s and early 1900s still in use. Tons of character, occasionally intact but hanging on by the fingernails. There is usually a brew pub or micro brewery in every small town in one of these buildings.

Looks more like Amityville than Kendrick.

St Maries was a bigger version of this and when we rolled in around 2:00 pm our first order of business was to find some place to eat, since all we had had at that point was a latte, protein bar and cinnamon bun. We had pulled over to the side of the road to look at the signs on the main street and Nan, in something of a hurry, asked a passerby where to go get food and the helpful person first welcomed us to St Maries then gave us about ten suggestions. I mistakenly assumed by the number and location of her piercings that she wouldn't have much to offer but I was wrong. 

We ended up having a pretty good lunch and spent a fair amount of time finding a destination for the night and after several failed attempts to find a suitable place, settled on Athol, just north of Coeur d'Alene, another 114 km from St Maries.

The rain once again threatened us this afternoon. However, rather than wait until we were wet, we donned our raingear. This proved to be an outstanding decision because despite very heavy, dark clouds in the direction we were heading, we kept the rain at bay.  We even kept our rain gear handy through lunch and afterwards, every place we rode appeared to have just been deluged with rain but hardly a drop on us.

When we got to Athol, we were told by two separate people that they had had bad storms today. The owne of our motel told us the power had been out twice today due to the storms.

An amusement park that Nan is begging me to take her,
just outside of where we are staying tonight.

Day 39: Camping wet in Nez Perce

Agpar Campround, Hwy 12 Idaho.
Distance traveled: 376.4 km
Cumulative traveled: 8,713.8 km
Top speed: 130 kph
Moving average: 83 kph
Temperature range: 19.0 - 35.2

Sorry for the delay, no cell service where we camped last night.

Up fairly early with the noise in the hallways of the hotel. It allowed us time for each to have a shower and get a good breakfast, get packed up and on the road before 9:00 am. Our hotel for the past two nights, The Stagecoach Inn was really great as they are accustomed to having motorcyclers as guests so they had already anticipated a few things that motoryclers like. For example, they had a place right in front of the lobby under the awning for motordycles to park so that they would (a) be under cover and (b) visible to front desk staff. Also, there was a hose to wash bikes and racks of old towels that motorcyclers could use to wipe off their bikes, saddle bags, windscreen, helmets or whatever. Usually, I ask for a rag before I bring the panniers into a motel/hotel room, especially if we have been riding in dust or rain.

There was a large group of people milling around the entrance area waiting to be picked up by a bus to take them on their rafting adventure. There looked to be about 20 or 25 people, including some teenagers. One member came over when he spotted our "Human Organ for Transplant" bag and asked if we had a spare liver. "Fresh out" I told him. "All we have left is stolen kidneys". I asked him what was the commonality of such a large group and he said they were separate groups. Two, I think but not sure. He told me that one of the groups was some Rwandans and since they were white, probably missionaries. I noticed that one of the groups had a very large quantity of beer and other "refreshments" for their 5 day river trip. Maybe the Rwandans. I would liked to have met one of them to get their perspective on the county, since I visited the country in 1984. Where I was incarcerated briefly for photographing children playing in a school yard. Until I escaped.

We made our first stop 20 minutes into the ride, since we did not know how likely we were to find a gas station between Salmon and Lolo. (I cannot type or say that name without thinking of the song Lola, L-O-L-A Lola.). While filling up, the school bus carrying the rafters pulled into the same station to acquire their fishing permits while on the river. Strictly catch-and-release, I heard one say. I guess they won't be fishing to survive out there.

Our next stop was Darby, which was a small community about the mid point between Salmon and Lolo. The main benefit of Darby was that they had a drive-through espresso bar and we were sorely in need of another coffee. Not just any coffee, a latte. We walked up and stood at the window and ordered two lattes. At that moment, Nan spotted a small table and two lawn chairs at the door to the coffee house so we told the gal who was answering our prayers that we were going to set up the chairs and sit on her porch so she said she would bring our coffees out to us.

At about that time, somebody else filling up with gas walked over and ordered herself a coffee. She noticed our riding gear and came over and asked us about our trip. She commented that are from Alberta, they ride Harleys and that they were going to Sturgis this year. I asked her if she towed  her bike to ten miles outside of Sturgis then ride in the last bit. She said that the view is the best part of the ride so no, no towing. Oh, in the process of describing this to us, she dropped several F-bombs along the way. I would say she was our age, maybe a little older.

She then talked about how beautiful Hwy 93 is that we were riding and they were driving and that if she had unlimited amounts of money, she would buy a place along there. I agreed and said if I had unlimited money I would buy a LOT of places. THEN she said that if SHE had unlimited money, she would hire a hitman and have Trudeau shot. And then Singh. Well, that went south fast. I said I am no fan of Trudeau but I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

Somehow, she quickly took her leave after that comment.
And somehow, the road got awfully boring all the way to L-O-L-A Lolo.

Even though we had filled up with gas only 175 km before, not knowing what was ahead we filled up in Lolo and picked up some groceries for dinner since our intention was to camp. We jammed a pasta mix, can of tuna and two sandwiches into nooks and crannies on the bike then headed to Hwy 12. This was a bit of a significant moment for me because we had been here in 2017 on the Great American Eclipse Squiggle Tour. Highway 12 is a very well known road to motorcyclers because of its twistiness and beautiful surroundings and I had made a specific plan that year to ride it. We filled up at the same gas station, which is at the intersection of Hwy 12 and Hwy 93. In 2017 however, we had arrived FIFTEEN minutes after the highway was closed due to a wildfire at the time. We did hang around then for an hour or so hoping that They would change their minds but did not and we were forced to alter our route. Today, we only went 5 km before we saw where the fire had burned and only 10 km before we saw where the fire had burned right down to the highway.

Highway 12 delivered what was promised. However, wew have seen some spectacular scenery on this trip and Hwy 12 didn't quite measure up. Nan asked me if I was disappointed. I said no, just that it didn't make one of my top rides of the trip. It was still fun and beautiful. It was also the first day we saw more motorcycles than other vehicles.

We did find a campground inside the edge of the national forest about 40 km. We had had lunch in a campground earlier and were surprised that there were only two vehicles there and dozens of vacant spots. Angling is very popular long this route so we had expected to see the campgrounds full. At the campground we chose to stay the night, there was one camper already entrenched, then us, then one other group has followed us in. We are right beside the river, which is very pretty and I went for a swim before I sat down to do today's post.

When we pulled into the Agpar campground, we figured we had struck gold. Small little campground with only 7 sites. Paved road, two sets of outhouses, fresh water taps and right beside the river. We got the tent set up and sleeping bags organized, I went for a little swim in the river and then started cooking dinner. Then the rain started. It was raining pretty hard about the time dinner was ready. The one thing this campground didn't have was a cook shelter so we huddled under the trees trying to without getting soaked. About the time we finished dinner, the rain let up and gave us a reprieve... until later.

The Lost Trail ski area, right on the border of Montana and
 Idaho. We were told you can ski both states in a day.

This is the Harley rider ordering her coffee.
Before she spouted off about killing the Prime Minsister.

Having our coffees served to us at a
drive-through coffee stand.

The gas station where we hung out in 2017 hoping for
 passage down Hwy 12. We got gas today.

Forest fire remnants right down to the highway.

Had a picninc break at this campground.
The mosquitoes were horrendous.