Northern Idaho Hospitality

Leaving Spokane late in the afternoon we figured we’d get a little way into Idaho and camp for the night and make it to Glacier National Park bright and early Tuesday morning. We said our thankful goodbyes to Josh and left Spokane on Hwy 2 headed for northern Idaho. The evening drive was quite peaceful, the van was working like it hadn’t for quite some time but it was indeed getting late. We high-fived as we crossed the boarder into Idaho, our third state and our first landlocked state. After more small towns to slow down through we hit the tourist trap of Sandpoint, ID, I quickly realized I wanted nothing to do with this town and we continued north on Hwy 2.

About a half hour north of Sandpoint we pulled into a gas station looking for some local advice on camping in the area. The friendly attendant looked a little confused and said, “Sandpoint has a lot of great camping.” We could see that by the hundreds of people, finally out of their motor homes, wandering aimlessly through the town. “We were looking for something up north.” We explained. The clerk said she had some maps of the area and would be right back. As we stared at each other waiting for the clerk a very friendly lady, salt and pepper hair, probably mid 50’s, thin and tall wearing shorts and a t-shirt, came up to the counter looking for gas so we posed the question to her since we had the clerk running errands for us. “There are lots of great places around Sandpoint, I used to live there by the lake. Let me draw you a map.” She said. As this lady was drawing a map the clerk came back with some tourist maps of Sandpoint, these ladies obviously didn’t catch our anti-Sandpoint vibe. I figured we’d thank the two of them after our map was drawn and we’d head out on our own. After we had a chicken-scratch map of us going the wrong direction the lady waiting for gas finally asked us where we were going. “We want to get to Glacier tomorrow.” I said. “Oh.” She replied, “This is the wrong direction then…” Looking puzzled at her map, “Do you just want to stay with me tonight? I live up the road a little bit. I can make you dinner and I have a little bunkhouse you can stay in. You can shower too.”

Wide-eyed, we looked at each other, “Sure!” I exclaimed. She looked as happy to have company as we did to have a free place to stay and someone to feed us. We finally introduced ourselves, her name is Jill, she lives in Naples, Idaho and she has a rather large male German Shepard named Shep who she assured us would be more than happy to keep Juno company. Jill was so excited she was about to leave the gas station without getting gas, I reminded her that she came in for something as she was starting to tell us all about Naples, its little tavern, “It’s a hick-bar, you know, lots of good-ol’-boys. Rednecks.” She said half proud her town had a bar but looking at us half embarrassed because she could tell we wouldn’t fit in. “We have a general store, you know, in case you need any supplies before you get to Glacier.” She went on. “When I get home from work I take Shep out for a walk to the creek, he likes to chase rocks. It’s a great place to take a dog, your dog will love it, we can go when we get there.” Jill finished filling her gas tank and we said we’d follow her to Naples. “I’m going to take you the long way… through town because some people get confused by the back way.” She said. I was thinking, “If we’re following you, how are we going to get confused?” But I said “Ok.” And we left for Naples.

Jill overestimated the speed of the van as we headed north following her in her old red Subaru. I gave the van all it could handle till Jill finally realized how far back we were and she slowed down for us. We made the left hand turn off of Hwy 2 into Naples, turned right to go through downtown Naples to see the hick-bar which looked the part with its NASCAR beer advertisements plastering the front, the barn turned general store where we could get supplies (the gas station where we met Jill probably had more ‘supplies’ than the general store). Every one of the landmarks Jill had told us about prior to getting to Naples she made sure to stop in the middle of the street in front of, roll her window down, stick her arm out and bend it over the top her Subaru to point at and yell out the window what it was. I, in turn, would stick my head out the window and give her a “Great!” coupled with a head nod. Jessica and I both know how to read, we really didn’t need Jill to point every downtown building out but it was obvious she was proud of her small town and happy to have someone new to show around.

At the end of town, about a block from the beginning of town, we turned left and crossed the railroad tracks, hit the end of the pavement and followed Jill for a few miles through forests and fields, stopped twice to point out local attractions out her window, “Great!” I said after each stop. We finally turned off the main gravel road into her “subdivision”, continued on a gravel road, quickly turned into the overgrown pine trees flanking her driveway and about 200 yards later we were at Jill’s house. The first thing I noticed was a huge German Shepard barking intimidatingly, this must be Shep, the guard dog of a single woman living in the woods. Jill let Shep out, I let Juno out, Shep towered over Juno, easily three times her size and they went to playing. Shep was obviously as happy to have company as Jill. After watching the doggie dance both Jessica and I were covered, head to toe, in mosquitoes. We were both in full assault, dancing around, slapping our bare legs and arms, Jill could see we were uncomfortable and ran inside to get repellant. I can’t remember ever being swarmed so fast. After we hosed each other down in bug spray Juno came running up to me, batting her muzzle with her paw, I looked down to find the most engorged mosquito I’ve ever seen in my life. I swatted it and it exploded leaving a bloodstain on her white fur. The dogs weren’t even safe.

Jill gave us the 30-second tour, not being brief, her place was just that small, a one-bedroom, one bathroom house with a tiny kitchen, and a one-room guesthouse with a single bed and wood stove. “The bed’s not big so you guy’s will have to cuddle.” She told us. “Well, you want to walk down to the creek with me?” She asked, “We can visit with my brother too if you want. He lives on the way. He’ll offer you a beer and a joint if you wanna smoke. You’re from Eugene, right? Doesn’t everyone smoke from there?” What is it about Eugene? I thought. Not everyone from Eugene smokes pot and not everyone that went to school there smokes pot. Sure, most people in school try it but not everyone graduates with a hemp necklace and pot leaf tattoo on their shoulder. The five of us walked about a mile down to the creek and Jill proceeded to throw rocks for Shep to chase, Juno wanted in on the action but the water was a little too deep for her so she ran around the bank, barking at us, then at Shep, then at us and back at Shep. I miss having a quiet dog sometimes. Twenty minutes or so of this and Jill said we should go meet her brother.

About half way between the creek and Jill’s house her brother, Kim, lived. He had a much bigger house than Jill with a two-car garage and had a beagle tied up out front that barked incessantly. I’m guessing Kim would like to have a quieter dog too but he just chased it around with a broken piece of a cedar stake, swatting at him when he got too loud or rambunctious. First impressions are what they are, and ours with Kim was something else. He was obviously once a thin man but as thin men, who like to drink a lot of beer and smoke a little pot, get over the years, Kim had developed the belly of octomom with chicken legs. Both of these features made more prominent with his cut-off jean shorts and button-down plaid shirt he had cut the sleeves off and the bottom off of so his octomom-belly could hang below. Kim had salt-and-pepper hair like his sister but I’m guessing he cut it himself. He introduced himself, shook hands with us, and looked at Jill as to what to do (he obviously wasn’t used to getting company). Jill motioned to offer us a beer, “Oh, let me get you a beer.” Kim said as he shuffled back inside to get us a beer. He soon returned with two cans of Keystone Light and one poured in a frosted mug for himself. Kim ordered me around to get wooden stools for everyone to sit on. We enjoyed our beers, shared stories of traveling, life, what Jessica was going to do with her new anthropology degree and the local wildlife like the moose that chased Kim through his yard and back into his house.

Kim’s neighbor came over to meet us, an early thirties wilderness schoolteacher who regaled us with the story of the day. Two of his students had eaten mushrooms thinking they were psychedelic but learned the painful truth about wild mushrooms as they were life-flighted to a nearby major hospital with life-threatening complications. Turns out most of the kids that are sent to this particular wilderness school are troubled kids with very affluent parents, $10,000 or $12,000 a month for school affluent. Most of the kids were into drugs, alcohol and/or general bedlam and the parents choose this school over military school.

Jill checked her watch and said she had to get back to the house to check on the chicken quarters she had started before we walked down to the creek. We said we’d join her and thanked Kim for the beer and the stories. Back at Jill’s humble abode she pulled the chicken out of the oven, Jessica helped make a salad and we had a pretty decent dinner. Jill broke out the ice cream for desert, a rarity for her and shared with her company. We shared more stories with Jill while Juno and Shep continued to play into the darkness outside. It was getting late and Jill had to work the next morning so she showed us back to the bunk house, upon second look we decided we would just sleep in the van and not mess up her place. The van was full of mosquitoes and we spent about a half hour trying to kill as many of them as possible before we finally fell asleep.

We awoke around 6:30 the following morning, Jill was already awake, and offered her shower. I took her up on it knowing we wouldn’t see another for several days and Jessica decided against it. Jill had to get to work and we wanted to make up for our last few days of van mishaps but before we left Jill pulled from her freezer a small bag of huckleberries and about two pounds of ground elk meat and wouldn’t let us leave without them. We didn’t quite know what to do with them but I was pretty sure we could make use of both of them. We thanked her profusely for being so kind and taking a couple of kids in for a night and being so nice. “Just remember the Northern Idaho hospitality.” I was pretty sure two-pounds of elk meat would keep me remembering.