A BAG OF SKITTLES
Back in 2017, I visited Idaho for the third or fourth time. Maybe the fifth time, I don’t know. Can’t remember. What I do remember, however, is an endless supply of pristine air, elegant clouds, wholesome blue sky, and perfectly designed road routes. Man, oh man!
After visiting Shoshone Falls*, the Niagara of the West, I headed north into the panhandle. I’d ridden through that area several times before and have always regretted not spending more time there. What with the trees and the flowers and the rivers and lakes, it’s like riding in paradise. At least in the summertime. In the wintertime it’s, well, there’s that snow thing.
There was a strong breeze now and again, but the temperature couldn’t have been more fitting for riding a motorcycle. My easy and pleasant route led me to Payette Lake and I got a room in McCall.
The next day’s ride was trouble-free as well, except for taking the wrong fork and riding fifty miles in the wrong direction on Highway 95.
Highway 95 goes through a countryside scattered with small towns. In a way, the views were similar to the farms and ranches in much of the midwest, except here the rolling hills have mountain backdrops. Looking at the photo below, I’m thinking that that “wrong fork” wasn’t wrong at all.
The few photos below tell the rest of the story except for a conversation I had at a gas station with one of the attendants: a slender, philosophically inclined fellow wearing black slacks, a blue smock, green tennis shoes, and a red baseball cap.
Gas Station Attendant/Philosopher Guy: Wanna know why I work at a gas station where I don’t make very much money?
Me: Sure.
Gas Station Attendant/Philosopher Guy: ‘Cause of the people.
Me: The people?
Gas Station Attendant/Philosopher Guy: Yeah, the people ya meet. They’s all real interesting.
Me: I’ll say.
Gas Station Attendant/Philosopher Guy: Everyone of ‘em is different, too.
Me: Got that right.
Gas Station Attendant/Philosopher Guy: Ain’t no two of ‘em alike, neither.
Me: I hear ya.
Gas Station Attendant/Philosopher Guy: No sirree. Not one of ‘em is like any of the rest of ’em.
Me: Ain’t it the truth.
Gas Station Attendant/Philosopher Guy: The thing is, ya never know what you’ll run into. For every jackass there’s at least two hundred friendly ones, know what I mean?
Me: Oh yeah.
Gas Station Attendant/Philosopher Guy: (Thoughtfully looking at the few clouds and beyond) I tell ya, man, life is just like a bag of Skittles. Ya never know what you’re gonna get.
Me: (Having no idea what that means, I just nod in agreement.)
* If you haven’t yet visited Shoshone Falls, put it on your to-do list. Really. There’s a large grassy area, a souvenir place, and a walk-up counter where you can get, you know, walk-up counter food. All that and the falls are right there. No long paths you have to walk along. (Unless you want to.) And if the sun is out, there’ll be a rainbow or two
Took this from Highway 95 somewhere close to Council, Idaho (population 839 in 2010). I came across this pastoral vista after taking that wrong fork and going fifty miles out of my way. But then, looking at it again, maybe it wasn’t “out of my way” at all.
Payette Lake just north of McCall.
Loon Lake, smack dab in the middle of the Payette National Forest.
Coeur d’Alene Lake (cor-duh-LANE), smack dab in the middle of Coeur d’Alene.
Cave Lake, smack dab in the middle of a whole lot of Pretty.
Schweitzer Mountain is above and north of Sandpoint. With more than a few twisties, the road leading up there is either pleasantly easy or a tad challenging. That partially-hidden-by-mist body of water way down behind the Beast is Lake Pend Oreille. (A respected local resident told me that Pend Oreille is pronounced pawn-duh-RAY.)
Happy’s Roadhouse Inn. I don’t know how this photo from Montana found its way into my Idaho folder, but hey, there it is. It’s on Highway 2 between Libby and Kalispell. Happy’s Roadhouse boasts that they’re the only bar to appear on every official map of the United States. Too cool for school!
A contented selfie at Shoshone Falls.
