September 20, 2017
Last week was a bit unusual. Got together with some old friends to relive the 80’s but in a much tamer way. You see, we’re all much older now.
Instead of playing softball games, we sat in chairs. Instead of water skiing, we looked at the lake. Instead of riding snowmobiles as fast as they would go, we coasted carefully down the bike path. Except Verdene.
We headed north for Spokane. Entering the city, several cop cars sped around and past us, noticeably faster than most Code 3 calls usually are. A few minutes later we started seeing on our phones that there was a shooting going on at Freeman High School.
We ate lunch in Wallace ID. I made quick friends with our waitress.
She started wiping off our rustic table as we sat down outside. I was kind of concerned about her condition so I told her I was a little worried she might suddenly go into labor.
She gave me a slightly dirty look and retorted without missing a beat “I’m a little worried that YOU might go into labor.”
We all laughed which broke the ice and brightened up her day a bit. I assured her that I was 62 and far too old to go into labor. My wife volunteered that I stay as far away from labor as I can.
We ate lunch and then drove to the Hiawatha Trail in Montana which is an old railroad path that winds through forest, tunnels and railroad trestles suspended high above the trees.
There were 5 or 6 tunnels. The longest tunnel was a little more than a mile and a half through a mountain.
I took off ahead of the pack for one of the following reasons:
- I needed to get out of sight of the rest of my fellow Basin Cityites so I could mark the trail with my special recipe just in case we got lost. I must say the other bikers arrived much faster with lights much brighter than I anticipated so I had to wrap things up a little earlier than normal. I still got a little trail-marking accomplished, not the usual full-meal deal but enough to make the rest of the ride more pleasant than no marking at all.
- To impress my wife and prove my prowess as a high-speed bicyclist in a completely blacked-out atmosphere. I only crashed twice.
- The area is mining country. I figured if I was in the lead, I would be the first to spot any nuggets the forgetful miners of 1910 might have left.
- I was under the mistaken impression that there was a grand prize at the end of the 17-mile trail for the winner of the race. The only prize was just a two-hour wait on the rest of the group to show up at the finish line.
- The rest of my group had never ridden a bike. I felt I would be much safer if I stayed far ahead and out of their way.
The correct answer is #1.
It was a nice bike riding day but not much sunshine in the tunnels. There was lots of nostalgia for the good old days when the wondrous railroad made transportation so much easier. At least after they got the track laid.
This is the end of the race. Vard Jenks took 2nd place while his wife Verdene came in a close 3rd. I guess Verdene got bored with this ride so she decided to spice things up the next day. You can read about her successful attempt in my post just prior to this one.
Oh, did I mention that I took 1st two hours earlier?
There were several couples on the trip. The following picture is of one of my best friends and his wife just outside our cabin. I’m not going to reveal who they are since I think Karl and Kathy would prefer to remain anonymous.
The last day we were there, my brother called me to check out all the details on a boat he saw on Craig’s list. The seller lived in Spokane but took it to Priest Lake as he really wanted to sell it. I drove a half-mile to meet up with the ambulance-chasing lawyer who was trying to pawn off the old beater of a boat.
My brother laid out all the things he wanted me to check. He must not know me very well. You see, I don’t like shopping. Like all my purchases, I met up with the owner, kicked a tire and bought it.
I hope Brent likes it.
It came in pretty handy to cart our bicycles and trash home with.
We traveled quite a few miles on this trip. We made it home Saturday. Michele got in the van this morning and didn’t make it to Pasco before she blew out the right rear tire. I can’t believe we drove all those miles without a problem. Maybe it’s because I was driving.
I hope my brother Brent likes his new boat.
I’m pretty sure it floats.
Last Saturday I drew another Facebook friend of mine who wasn’t a follower of my blog. I felt sorry for the poor kid. He really wanted and needed the $500. But rules are rules and at this late stage of my life, I’m not going to start breaking them.
Start following and sharing my blog so if your name comes up, you can cash in. Eleven people now have won the drawing but weren’t eligible. Read the rules in the menu and follow through so you don’t miss out!
Also, Dedie May won the use of my Corvette for a week. I drew her name not from my Facebook friends but directly out of my blog followers. I think we’ll do another drawing for the Week of the Vette in October.