Going Northwest, 2012
Gambrills, MD to Custer, WA
by Chip Walsh, 10/8/2012

Gambrills to East Harbor, Ohio
I left Gambrills on July 11 and was on the road around 4pm. I drove until 12:30 a.m., reaching a campground at East Harbor State Park, in East Harbor. In the morning, I kayaked from the beach in the State Park out onto Lake Erie. It was moderately windy, I estimated 15mph, and there were 2' waves on the Lake. When I returned, a lifeguard was on duty and scolded me because I had landed in a "no boats" area. But he was reasonable and let me take out over the beach so I could return to my vehicle.

I found a place in Port Clinton to get my truck's oil changed (it was due). Lube Connection was fast and more reasonably priced than the regular place I use in Gambrills. After kayaking and oil change, it was mid-afternoon before I got on the road. I considered how far to go and decided to set my sights on Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore, near Gary Indiana. I considered the Chicago Lake front lot where four of us spent pleasant evenings on the 1999 Ballpark Tour, but ultimately decided to avoid trying on my own to find my way in the city.

Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore
This National Lakeshore is an odd collection of properties bordering Lake Michigan. They are not all contiguously connected, and there are State park holdings interspersed with the NPS properties. There is a giant steel mill in the middle of it, and a power plant on the east end of it. I guess it is remarkable that conservationists saved the properties that they did, as this is an area of the country that was heavily industrialized by the time this park was created in 1966. I blindly followed google maps which took me into the west end of the park. The camping was in the east end, so I had to backtrack 30 miles through the park. I first found the State Campground and was disheartened that it was full. I then found the National Park campground, which had space.

After securing a site, I went to see a piece of the park before it got dark. I selected, from the Park's attractions (?), Mt. Baldy, a 126' Sand Dune. I was amused by the sign on the footpath leading up Mt. Baldy that warned "strenuous trail".

On the inland side, the half buried trees bear testament to the migration of Mt. Baldy.
Looking east from Mt. Baldy.
The sun sets over the shoulder of Mt. Baldy and Lake Michigan. If you go far enough to the left, around the sand dune and a few miles down the beach, there's a steel mill. So the park preserves a natural place sandwiched along a developed Lake shore.

On July 13, I was awake at first light and on the road by 6:15. I thought I might sneak through Chicago before it got busy, but I-80/90 clogs up early in the big city.

La Crosse, WI

Made it to La Crosse about 12:30 on 13 July. I was hungry and looked for a restaurant. I learned that AT&T's "E" service is unsuitable for internet or any data-intensive applications. The iphone was crippled as far as being able to map directions or search for vegetarian restaurants. I finally found wi-fi in a Mexican restaurant chain that couldn't veganize their offerings. So, I picked another restuarant in downtown La Crosse. Tres Amigos on 4th St. near Main served me a great lunch. I stopped at Three River Outfitters where very nice people told me a good place to kayak was Goose Island. Then I stopped in a coffee shop to borrow their wi-fi so I could figure out how to get to Goose Island. By this time, it was getting on in the afternoon and by the time I put on the Mississippi it was 4:00pm.

The Mississippi in this area runs between high bluffs that are separated by a mile or more. In between the bluffs, there is a labrynth of channels, islands, sloughs and marshes. There was a marked canoe trail that ran 7 or 8 miles around Goose Island, and I was afraid to deviate off this trail because everything looked more or less the same and getting lost was a concern. The signs turned out to be adequate but were far enough apart that I wasn't always sure I was on course. There is a campground on Goose Island, and even though it was a Friday night, they had plenty of sites available. But for some reason, I wasn't ready to stay and went back into La Crosse. I stood in front of the coffee shop (now closed), was thankful they'd left the wi-fi on, and searched for vegetarian dining options. I decided to try the Root Note. They had vegetarian dishes, and were nice enough to veganize a special order for me. There was a band playing, but Root Note was nice enough to waive the $10 cover charge, since I just wanted food. The draft IPA tasted especially good after paddling in the near 100-degree weather.

I left the Root Note and walked a short distance to a Brew Pub that advertised they stocked 600 beers. I decided to get a Guiness because I wanted to compare it with the Guiness I drank in Ireland two weeks earlier. The drink was so abhorrently poured no comparison was really possible. At this Pub, they had a special gadget that blasted a squirt of water into the glass, and they doused each glass before they filled it with beer. I had never been to a bar where that was done. And then they just poured the Guiness in one blast and slapped it down in front of me. It was served icy cold. The Guiness people would not approve. So maybe the Guiness is the same, but not poured with the same love and respect it gets in Ireland. The guy next to me was ordering a Belgian ale that cost $12.50! At least it came in a bottle so wouldn't be brutalized as the drafts were.

I kind of wanted to stay with the lively crowd in the Brew Pub, but drink & drive, etc., so I left. It was 10:00 and it was thunderstorming. I didn't feel like going back to Goose Island and decided to take the road out of town. Into Minnesota I went. The exits became further apart, and darker. It got later and I knew I would tire. From I-80, I could see lights coming from Rochester, figured it was a sizeable town, and so I exited to look for a place to spend the night. I found one campground that was apparently out of business and an RV Park that wanted $40, which I didn't feel like paying since I don't need electric and hook-up. I found my way to the Walmart, thinking I'd sleep there. At close to midnight, in a town of less than 100,000, I was surprised to find the Walmart jumping with activity. I drove into a neighborhood and found a flat, dark, spot to park. I was a little apprehensive but no cop-at-the-window ever appeared. I woke up around 6:30 and resumed driving west.

I stopped at the first rest area I came to and fixed myself some tea and a PBJ sandwich, then got back into the truck and tackled the 320 miles between me and Chamberlain, SD. I was impressed with the flatness and wind farms of Minnesota. I passed at least a dozen wind farms, each with 50 or 100 towers. I later learned Minnesota generates 17% of it's electricity with wind power. The State of Minnesota must encourage the formation of wind farms, because once I crossed the South Dakota state line, there were no more wind farms.

Chamberlain, SD

I reached Chamberlain at 2:30 in the afternoon of 14 July. Chamberlain has a small downtown, a few blocks by a few blocks. It has a population of only a few hundred, but is one of those towns that feels bigger because it is a regional commercial center. Chamberlain sits on the Missouri River and it is believed the Lewis and Clark expedetion debarked there, unloaded, dried out, and reloaded. However, back then, the Missouri was a river. Now, at Chamberlain, there is a large body of water, an impoundment formed by the Fort Randall Dam.. While technically the Missouri River, they call it Lake Francis Case.

I found my way to the American Creek Campground, a commercially operated campground catering to RVs and power boaters. They had 64 RV sites and two tent areas for 5 to 8 tents each. The tent areas share a common parking area and then there is about a quarter acre area for semi-communal camping. There was a common parking area and there were five or eight tables. The temperature was around 100, which made the choice of tent areas simple, the one with shade.

I cooked up a lunch, then I kayaked about 5 miles. The Lake narrowed under the I-80 bridge and I was surprised there was a substantial current through the narrows. There must have been a significant volume of water feeding into the impoundment from the River. It was also very windy, which made it more fun. There were some bluffs that made it scenic. I think I was the only kayak out. There were a constant stream of jet skis, power boats and pontoon boats, but no kayaks.

Among the campers I was sharing the site with, was Brett, who was bicycling his way to Vancouver from Chicago, and two graduate fellows from SD University. Alex and Alanna were executing on a grant to create a plant-inventory of the nearby White River. Since grant money that wasn't used for expenses could be used to pay them salary, Alex and Alanna camped out to help stretch the dollars. They'd been there a couple weeks.

Chamberlain was hosting a street party on the Saturday night of July 14. They'd closed off a block and a local band was playing. I could hear the music start around 7:30 and the campground began to empty out, most people walking the half mile to get downtown. I thought about going but laid down in the truck to see if I needed to move it to more level ground. I woke up later, could still hear the band playing, and was surprised it was 1:00 a.m. I went back to sleep, but was up for the cracking of dawn. I showered and was on the road by 6:00.

I-80 in South Dakota became flat and straight. Not really flat--gently rolling grasslands. The road was mostly empty. I passed or was passed by a total of 6 vehicles in 70 miles. I entertained myself by trying to guess the distance to things I could see in the distance in front of me. Often, it'd be three of four miles. I made it to the gates of Badlands National Park by at 8:00.

Badlands National Park

This was the big moment I'd been waiting for. I pulled up to the gate and announced I was 62 and here for my Golden Age Pass. Getting to Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore outside of normal business hours had been a major disappointment, because I couldn't buy my pass. The good Park Service lady fixed me up and I drove off to explore the Park. I thought I'd go backpacking in BNP, but as I read through the park attractions, talked to the information desk Rangers and considered the weather forecast (high temp 107), I concluded a driving tour would be just fine. The Park is actually set up to be driven and there is no shade on the hiking trails.

Badlands National Park as viewed from near the park entrance.
Rock formations like this are common throughout Badlands National Park. This Park reminded me of Bryce Canyoun NP, but less spectacular. The sandstone formations have less definition than at Bryce, and the grey and muted pink colors are sedate compared to the orange, pink, and white at Bryce.

 
I drove the loop road, stopped at many of the overlooks to see more of the same, read the hike descriptions in the NP newspaper and easily reached the conclusion that I didn't want to spend a few days in this Park. I headed back to the interstate and resumed driving west. I was heading for Wyoming, but kept seeing signs for Mt Rushmore. At a rest stop, I calculated Mt Rushmore was only about a half-hour out of the way, figured I might not get close again, so decided to go check out the big heads.

Mt. Rushmore and the Black Hills

It took a lot more than 30 minutes to get from I-90 to Mt. Rushmore. The town at the base of the hill is very kitchie with lots of tourist t-shirt and trinket booths. It made the Ocean City boardwalk look upscale.There was a lot of traffic going to Rushmore and I was crushed when my Golden Age Pass saved me nothing on the $11 parking fee. There were hoards of people at Mt. Rushmore, and it is kind of a curious attraction. But the story of how it was funded and made is an interesting tale. The temperature at Rushmore was much cooler than down on I-90 and made me consider trying to find a camp site that was at altitude instead of returning to the sweaty lowlands. I looked up weather for the NPs in Wyoming and saw the highs were only in the 70s. That sounded good, but it was 2:00 already, and Wyoming was a long drive, so I looked for something local and decided to head for Wind Cave National Park.
From Mt Rushmore to Wind Cave National Park I drove through the Black Hills, which was an amazing drive, the highlight of a day that took me into three National Park/Monuments. I drove on a twisting Rt 16 as it ascended and plunged and actually cork-screwed over itself as it wound up steep gorges (pigtail bridges--a new term I learned). At places the road cuts through rock outcroppings on the side of ridges. This road was built at the urging of Governor and Senator Peter Norbeck and it seemed like it was built just for the challenge of putting a road where it seemed impossible to build.
My route took me through Custer State Park, where these buffalo where wandering around the park. At Wind Cave NP, I told the camp host I wished I'd stayed at Custer SP, because it was higher in elevation and cooler.
The buffalo roam where they want, and if it is onto the road, a bit of a traffic jam occurs. You have the locals who just want to get moving, and the tourists who want to stop and take pictures. And you have the buffalo, who are rather unfazed about the whole thing and move out of the road when and if they feel like it.
I made it to Wind Cave National Park by 6:00, in time to catch the last cave tour of the day. Wind Cave is the 5th largest cave in the world and contains 95% of the "open box" formations in the world (image at right). The cave does not contain the dynamic and dramatic stalactite and stalagmite formations of most caves because it was formed from an underground lake, not running water like formed most other caves. My Golden Age pass saved half on camping fees and the cave tour fee, so the card had already paid for itself in one day!  One of the best part of the hour-long cave tour was the temperature in the cave, which was around 60. Wind Cave NP was around 4,000 ft elevation, much lower than Rushmore and Custer SP. Still, the overnight temperature got down into the 70s and I was able to sleep comfortably.
On Monday, 16 July, I headed west again. I stopped at Dale's Family Diner in Hot Springs for breakfast and was served the best bowl of oatmeal, ever. Incidentally, I saw four calendars there... it was a Least Heat Moon kind of place. Then I drove out of the Black Hills and South Dakota, into grasslands, and into Wyoming. I was so impressed at how flat and featureless it was in eastern Wyoming that I snapped pictures out the window.
The road was long, straight, and mostly empty. I found the nothingness mesmerizing. The truck was rolling along at 70, but it felt like I wasn't going anywhere because the scenery stayed the same. After joining the I-25 at Orin Junction, the land takes on more form. Continuing west toward Jackson, the last 150 miles, there are mountain ranges in the distance both north and south. Gradually, the mountain ranges converge, the road runs alongside the Wind River, and there is a delight of visual interest.

Grand Teton National Park

I reached Grand Teton NP about 5:00 on 14 July. Fortunately, camp sites were available. I'd hoped to get the boat on the water but learned there was a whole process with attendant paperwork needed to get on the water. There's a $10 permit, and a $15 self certification that your boat is free of invasive species. Really you are supposed to wash your boat, and I did spend an hour or more at the gas station with a hose, soap, and vinegar (they tell you to use that), for whatever it was worth. I also got a permit to hike to Surprise Lake from the Lupine Meadow trailhead for the following day. I set up camp in the Colden area, a huge campground that I think has over 200 camp sites. My ice was gone, and I didn't want more because I was back country camping the following night, so I had no choice but to drink the two Fat Tire beers in the cooler while they were still "luke cold."
On 17 July, I slept a little late, then began packing the backpack for an overnight hike. I stopped by the shower/laundromat facility in Colden village and grabbed a shower. The nice lady there comped me the shower, normally priced at $3.75. I thought cold beer would be good after my hike, so bought a block of ice and more beer. Why do ice blocks hold much longer than equivalent weight of ice cubes? With all the futzing, it took me until noon to arrive at the trail head. The parking area at the trail head was completely full. I wedged the truck in front of some big vans with trailers that had parallel parked (everybody else was end-in). I hoped they'd be able to get out okay. I started the hike about 1p.m.
I found the hike difficult. It was almost all switchbacks and climbed 2,800' in 5 miles. Worst of all, aerobically, I just couldn't keep up. As I passed through 8,000' elevation, I could only go 50 to 75 steps between having to stop and let my oxygen-deprived body catch up. So, it took me 5 hours to make the climb. On the way up, there were plenty of other hikers on the trail. But, after about 6 pm, there was nobody on the trails and I had the whole area to myself. I was a little worried about bears and made myself a little noise maker, putting pebbles in a plastic bottle and shaking it as I walked around. I didn't encounter any bears. In the morning the sky was clear, and at close to 10,000'', there's not that much air to hold haze, so everything seemed bright and clear. It was chilly. I walked around with my fleece and noise shaker.
Surprise Lake was crystal clear water and mirror smooth in the morning sun.
When I came back down to the car, which was mercifully more easy than walking up, I threw gear in the truck and then went to find the boat launch onto nearby Jenny Lake. I kayaked around the perimeter of the Lake.
I thought I was going to connect into Leigh Lake, but the connection seemed to be up a steep rapid and through some impassable wood piles. I abandoned the thought of continuing onto the other lakes. Instead, I beached the kayak on the far end of the lake and went for a swim, knocking off the sweat and trail dust of mountain hiking.
View while kayaking Jenny Lake.
After kayaking, I went into the town of Jackson and found a place for dinner. There were surprisingly few bars in Jackson, which seemed to have innumerable tour operators: hike, climb, raft, bike, ski, and probably more. With all that adventuring, you'd think there'd be a few bars to quench the thirst of all those adventurers, but in my brief foray into Jackson, I saw none. I returned to Grand Teton NP and headed around to the north end of the park. The Lizard Creek campground where I tentatively planned to stay the night was full, so I continued north out of the park. The map showed campsites at Flagg Ranch, located on the John D Rockefeller Parkway that links Grand Teton to Yellowstone.  I went there and got a site just before the office closed at 9:00. They put me right on the corner opposite the office, and then they hung a sign on the office directing late-comers to go back out and register at a nearby lodge. For two hours, I thought I was parked on a dusty interstate off ramp. RVs rumbled up, saw the sign, rumbled back out, registered, then rumbled back in. I was choking in dust. I went to the lodge and got my money back. Drove down the road a bit and bushwacked into the National Forest. I found a great spot to sleep, but the truck made inexplicable noises and I didn't sleep well knowing it was just me and the bears camped out there in the woods.

Yellowstone National Park

I arrived at the South Entrance of Yellowstone early. My first stop was the Grant Village information center, where I had to wait for the permits office to open at 8:00. After talking things over with the Ranger, I received a permit for the next night at campsite 8R1 on Shoeshone Lake. My touring plan was to immediately get a campsite at Lewis Lake. I was wary of having the sites fill up, as had happened the previous night at Grand Teton NP. Then I would spend the day touring the parks thermal features, paddle into Shoshone lake and camp on the following day, then perhaps make an overnight hike on the Yellowstone River the day after that.

Thermal Features Tour. I began at the Upper Geyser Basin, home of the famous Old Faithful geyser. I was not aware that Old Faithful is but one of dozens of geysers in the Upper Geyser Basin, and that there are a half dozen or more geyser basins. I auto-toured along the western side of Yellowstone's scenic loop, I kept looking for the iconic, colorful, springs flowing over layers of built up rock, and I kept not seeing these. I finally concluded they were at Mammoth Hot Springs, all the way up by the north entrance of the park. I drove up there, and I think that used to be where what I was looking for used to be. The water flow has decreased in recent years, so the scene I pictured may not presently exist. It was about 60 miles from Lewis Lake up the Mammoth Hot Springs. The speed limit in Yellowstone is 35 miles an hour, but due to the summer volume of slow-pokey tourists, actual driving speeds can be much less. The distance coupled with about ten stops, each with a walk-about, easily consumed the day. I returned to the Lewis Lake camp near dark. There were plenty of camp sites still open, so I hadn't really needed to come and get a site early, but who knew? I had a chance exchange with a neighboring camper, who asked if I'd heard an elk bugling. I asked if he meant a sound I was hearing at the moment. "Nah, that's coyote." Coyotes and elks, oh my, I wasn't in Gambrills. More pictures from thermal features tour.
I interrupted my walk through the Upper Geyser Basin to go into Yellowstone's Old Faithful Inn, built from timbers by the CCC back when they did such things. Two more pictures inside Old Faithful Inn.
Friday morning, 20 July, I prepped for paddling to Shoshone Lake. First, I reserved my campsite for the next two nights. It would be Saturday when I came off the Lakes trip, possibly late, and I expected a site might be hard to come by on a Saturday night in July. The launch was nearby. You'd think, from the truck, it'd be pretty quick to pack the kayak. But, it took me two hours to extract and pack the paddling subset of gear from the rest of the gear in the truck. I met some canoeists at the launch in a boat that had been creatively patched. Later on, they took my picture when I met up with them on Lewis Lake. I had a good trip to Shoshone Lake, returning on Saturday afternoon, 21 July. It was about 5pm by the time I returned to my camp site, and the campground did fill up, so I was glad to have booked the site, even though it cost me $6 for Friday night when I was out on the Lakes. The camp host told me somebody had set up on my site and that the host had to make them move, over their protests that "nobody's here!" I got some water and hand washed laundry. The low humidity in the west is remarkable. Even though it was late in the day, my laundered items were dry by the time it got dark. I slipped into the woods with a jug of water and gave myself a bath, too. Later that night some recent college grads asked if they could share my site. Since I was sleeping in the truck and had already packed everything up, I was basically only using the parking spot, so I said sure. Next thing I know, the five of them have built a fire and are sitting around drinking beers and yucking it up. So, I had to go join them for awhile, drink one of their beers, and explain that night time was for sleeping. They were pretty good about it, and I woke up later to hear them over around a fire at a neighboring site. That was much better than right outside my truck window.	See TR for pics. Lewis Lake, Lewis River, and Shoshone Lake Trip Report.
I departed Lewis Lake Campground at 6:30 on Sunday, 22 July, and made my way to Canyon Village, about 50 miles distant. I thought I would make an overnight backpack trip on the Yellowstone Canyon, to a place called Seven Mile Hole, but as I discussed this with the rangers at the Canyon Village information desk, it became evident the Canyon's best sights were serviced by road, and that the hike to Seven Mile Hole would be a lot of sweating and gasping for air for very little additional sight-seeing value. So, I opted for the auto tour. Image at right is Yellowstone Canyon viewed from Inspiration Point overlook along the North Rim Drive. More Yellowstone Canyon Pictures After auto-touring Yellowstone Canyon, I headed north, out of the park. Besides lots of tourists, on this day driving, I saw from the car Elk, fox, and a momma bear with three cubs. I drove out the north entrance into Gardiner, Montana. I was amazed at the number of foreign-speaking tourists in Yellowstone. I think over half the tourists in the park were not speaking English. I'm used to hearing Spanish, but in Yellowstone the languages tended to be other European languages. A little French, but mostly German, Scandanavian, and Slavic. I met two Australian guys who had been touring the country for seven weeks. My neighbor at the campground was Swiss climber who had been touring the country climbing mountains.

Driving through Montana the scenery was gorgeous: lots of arid flats and rugged mountains. Lots of long straight roads with 75mph speed limits. Very little traffic. The highway went through Butte, Montana, which rises up on hills on the north side of the Interstate. There's not much vegetation by the road, so you get a good view of the city as you approach it. One of the things that strikes the eye is the huge open mine pit and the huge sloping piles of mine taillings. I took the exit for the main street and drove up the hill, hoping to find a restaurant or a Subway. It was after 5:00 on a Sunday, and Butte was a ghost town. I found a few promising looking restaurants but they were closed, as were most of the businesses. I had to stop and use the iphone to scour the Internet and find Christina's Cantina. A quick call verified they were open and the iphone told me how to get there.

An older man was dining by himself and we struck up a conversation. He used to work on the 200-ton dump trucks that were used in the strip mine. They mined copper and other precious metals, but lately they have been mining molybdenum, and the man proudly told me Butte is the only source in the U.S. for this exotic steel alloy. At the top of the hill behind Butte there is a large mine derrick. The man told me that there are 1,000s of miles of abandoned mine tunnels under Butte and that it is a high priority EPA superfund site.

After eating at Christina's, I drove to a Hathaway's Book Store. I was stunned that it was open until 10:00 when the rest of Butte was closed up tighter than a clam. I bought a cup of coffee and settled in at a table to use their wi-fi. I researched routes and National Forests along the route, identifying a target destination for the night: the Lolo National Forest campground off I-80 in western Montana.

I drove to Lolo NF by 9:30. In western Montana I-80 runs along the Clark Fork between steep, evergreen clad mountains. Montana had been hot, but the National Forest had enough elevation that the overnight temperature got cool enough to be comfortable for sleeping, around 70-75, cooling to 60 by morning. The campsite was odd in that the only access was out the back of a rest area on I-80. The highway was only a quarter mile away, but the traffic was so light that the noise was not intrusive. I walked over to a campsite where some big whitewater rafts on trailers were parked. The paddling campers there were from Idaho, and had been running Clark Fork all week. I learned a little about rafting and received detailed instructions on where to put-in to Lake Coeur D'Alene.

On Monday, July 23, I left the Lolo National Forest by 8:00. The highway followed the Clark Fork along between the mountains. This part of Montana was strikingly green and rugged, much different than Montana to the east. This geography continued into the Idaho panhandle. A sign near the Idaho line directed all vehicles with boats stop for inspection. I stopped and two state employees walked around the truck looking perplexed, like "what are we supposed to inspect?" They asked me where I was going and referred me to a vendor in Coeur D'Alene where I should go to buy an invasive-species sticker. I went to the specified marina and forked over seven bucks for a sticker. I have no idea how any of this churning over stickers can possibly benefit the cause of limiting the transfer of invasive species, but it seems to be the law in Idaho.


Coeur D'Alene, Idaho

Coeur D'Alene is a mid-sized, pretty town. I'd guess the main business is tourism, but thrift stores seemed to be a close second--I passed at least three. I followed the advice I got from the rafters at Lolo and headed for the town park and boat launch complex. It was still early and surprisingly chilly. I found a neat little coffee place nearby, both to kill time while the day warmed up and use the wifi to research a place to stay overnight. I kind of wanted to stay in Coeur D'Alene for a day, maybe hang out in a bar, but there were no nearby campgrounds. I thought about spending a night on the side of the road and jotted down the address of the police station, thinking I'd go ask where I could park overnight. Eventually, I packed up  and went to launch the kayak.

There was a 20 - 25 mph wind blowing in off the Lake. There were white caps and 1 - 2 foot waves outside the breakwater. Lake Coeur D'Alene did not have the biggest waves, but they really rocked the kayak in an odd way. I felt like I was riding on the back of a drunken elephant. It was almost as if somebody grabbed the back of the kayak and was erratically rocking the boat. I paddled out past the rocks and beaches along the town park and turned towards where I thought the river entered the Lake. I paddled past a beach resort with manicured grounds and rows of lounge chairs neatly lined up along the beach. Oddly, there were no people. I passed a second resort, larger than the first. There was a large area of water that was cordoned off by a floating breakwater. There was a golf course. But, again, no people. I continued to paddle east until I came to an area where a road runs right alongside the lake. There are docks along the shore that I guessed belonged to houses up the hill beyond the road. I stopped near the end of one of the docks to roll the boat and cool off. Image right: looking south, down Lake Coeur D'Alene.

Then I paddled back. Image right shows part of the shoreline of the town park and the casino-marina complex next to the town boat launch and parking area.

After I racked the boat, I got in the car and began to drive through Coeur D'Alene. I pulled into a rest area and while I was fixing myself something to eat concluded I should make haste to the Bellingham area to see if I could get my kayak's leaky bulkhead fixed before heading out on the trip with the WAKE members. So, I pointed the truck west and was soon in Washington. The landscape in eastern Washington looked semi-arid, but there is a lot of agriculture and a lot of irrigation.

Stopping for gas in Moses Lake, WA, I took advantage of the excellent cell phone coverage to talk to my wife back east. I received the sad, but not unexpected, news that my mother-in-law had passed away. I felt badly not to be with my wife at this time. I felt I should proceed to Seattle and immediately get a plane home. My wife strongly encouraged me to continue with my trip. She was staying with her dad and other family members anyway, so she had support. And as it turned out, they had to straighten out burial issues so the funeral didn't occur until August 9, at which time I was able to be there. We talked for about an hour, which would end up costing me daylight at Snowqualmie Pass.

I had in mind to make it to the Cascades and find a place in the National Forests there to spend the night. The drive on I-90 was a constant treat to the eyeballs. The semi-arid regions slope up, the road follows along the Yakima River, crosses Lake Easton, goes up grades that last for miles, skirts Keechelus Lake, and eventually lost itself in the darkness among the steep slopes of the Cascades. If I had had good information, I would have turned off into one of the National Forest areas or a State Park. I just kept going.

Once I started coming down the mountains I was in the outskirts of Seattle. I stopped to pee at a MacDonalds and checked my email. I had emailed a friend in Seattle asking if they'd mind a midnight guest. Her reply said she needed to get to bed early, and it was already 10:30. I had been wanting a sub sandwich. The iphone showed me a subway on the north side of Seattle I could get to in 20 minutes, so I dashed for it. I was very impressed by the quantity of traffic on the road in Seattle. Traffic was moving at speed, but there was a lot of it. After driving through most of the west amid light to very light traffic, Seattle at 10:30 on a Monday night seemed frantic. The Subway closed at 11 and I was in the door with about five minutes to spare.

Traffic thinned out as I drove north from Seattle. It was midnight and I still didn't have a game plane. So when I passed a sign for Comano Island State Park, with a little camping symbol, I headed for it. A pet peeve of mine is highway signs for attractions that are nowhere near the highway. I thought I'd never get to CISP. It was at least 15 miles through hill, dale, town and country. I was just hoping there'd be a spot for me, but needn't have worried, the campground was virtually empty. I can't say much about Camano Island, but the campground was spaciously spread beneath a canopy of spruce and Douglas Fir. One nice aspect of being alone in a campground under the canopy of trees was that the dark and quiet allowed me to sleep late, which I needed.

24 July Tuesday
Bellingham, Wa

Drove from Comano Island State Park back to I-5, and headed north to Bellingham, less than an hour north. First stop was REI. Bought neoprene booties to replace the one's that were last seen in Yellowstone. I also wanted to get the leaky bulkhead (behind the seat) in my kayak fixed. Mike Tomkitz sent an email recommending a kayak shop: Sterling Kayak and Fiberglass. I went there after REI.

Sterling Kayaks is run by a guy named Sterling Daniels. They make some kayaks that are light, apparently well-made and built for demanding paddlers. The boats surf forward and backward. They are rockered and have skegs located just behind the cockpit. The kayaks are said to be both maneuverable and straight-tracking, and those characteristics are usually thought to be either-or compromises. It was fun meeting Sterling and his wife Marsha. I left the Azul with him and after spending over an hour and getting the tour of the place, headed back to I-5 and north to Richard's, reaching his house in Custer after 2:00.

Richard was mowing, but was ready for a beer break when I arrived. We talked for a couple hours, then he went back to work and I took a shower and did some laundry. It was nice to be at "home" in the northwest. Richard had "my room" ready, complete with towels and a fresh bar of soap on the bed! I marveled at the tile flooring job he did since my last visit.

When Bridgette came home from work we had a little happy hour before going out for Thai food in Blaine. The Chadathai restaurant overlooked a bay, and on the other side of the bay we were looking at the Canadian community of White Rock. I feel honored and lucky to have great friends who are great hosts.

25 July Wednesday
Custer, Wa

It was very pleasant waking up in "my room." Everybody had coffee, tea, and toast while we figured out what was going on for the day. Bridgette got on the Internet and learned that the trailhead for the hike Richard and I were thinking of taking was still covered by snow, so Richard opted to take me to Chuckanut to climb to Oyster Rock.

This was a short but steep hike to an outcrop that overlooked Puget Sound. The weather was perfect and we hiked in our t-shirts, me sweating like a pig. Richard hikes more quickly than I do and he had to wait for me a few times. We sat on Oyster Rock and enjoyed the rewarding views for a bit. There was a steady stream of day hikers coming and going. There was an amazing amount of green on the trail to Chuckanut. If the ferns were any bigger I'd have thought I was in New Zealand. The trail crossed a dry stream bed. Richard pictured at image, right.
Maybe because of driving across arid and drought-stricken western states, the vegetation looked insanely green.
On Oyster Dome -- Richard and I pose at the top of the Chuckanut hike. We were soon going and we walked down much more easily and quickly than we'd gone up.

Back at Richard's, I met Mike who was there to talk to Richard about a shed rebuild. We caught a ride back to B-ham with Mike, who took us to the Wednesday night Bocce games at Tom's Bocce court off James Street. After a few introductions Richard and I left to go to the Kulshan brew pub and fill up a growler. We had a beer while we were there, then a street vendor called Streat Food opened their cart and they had some awesome veggie food.  I was starved and ordered a veggie taco that was stupendous. Richard departed for the Bocce courts. I was still hungary and Streats cooking was so good, I ordered the falefel wrap and got a second beer. By the time I walked over to the Bocce court, Richard and Bridgette were about ready to go. We stopped off at a pizza assembly store and bought two uncooked pizzas that we carried back to Richard's, where they went into the oven, then our mouths. Good pizza, and an early bedtime for Richard and B.
 
On Thursday, 26 July, Richard and Bridgette went off to work. I sorted gear for kayak camping and went to the grocery store to round out my meal plan for the next week. Richard was home when I got back from the market and I took him with me to Bellingham to pick up my kayak. Richard got to meet Sterling Daniels who introduced us both to Chris Mitchell, local kayaker and kayak-entrepreneur. Then we went to Bridgette's office.

Bridgette works in an older house that has been remodeled as a small professional building she shares with a couple other practitioners. She was about done for the day, and from there we went to Boundary Bay Brew Pub. Richard and Bridgette seem to meet quite a few people they know at the pubs. This day we met Jimmy, who refuses to live down loosing to Bridgette in a croquette tournament last year. We didn't stay that long at the pub, returning to Custer where R & B cooked up a fabulous salmon dinner.

I was amazed at the number of people who came and went to the pub by bike. It was the same way at Kulshan Brewery the night before. There are plenty of hills in Bellingham, but it seems to be a bike-happy place.

I stayed up until almost midnight looking at flights to take me home for my mother-in-laws funeral. Drive or fly? Twenty hours in airports and airplanes vs. 50 hours driving. Pick up the drive after the funeral or an all-business drive home and an end to my trip? I'd sleep on it, but not much, because I needed to get up with Richard at 4:30.

Kyoquot Sound Trip
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