Teresa & John Then Home

 

August 5th

 

Leaving at 8 a.m., I was excited about driving the Icefield Parkway again, seeing those grand,
side-by-side glaciers and icefields. Traffic of vacationers has more than doubled since early
June, when we started this adventure, and we were appreciative of having more solitude with all
the beauties. Returning from the southerly direction also lended a different and gorgeous
perspective to every mountain, river, lake, as though each a new experience.

 

T and John were leaving Coeur d'Alene this morning for Invermere, BC, and staying at the
resort in Panorama, where they'll mountain bike for a couple days. They'll tour that triangle I
adore, seeing Golden, Revelstoke, New Denver, Nakusp, Kaslo, and Nelson, and hope they
take the ferry on Kootenay Lake, which is the longest free ferry ride in North America. In order
to meet with them, we hustled, lunched in Jasper's crowds, and timing was perfect. They had
just arrived at the resort, and met us in the town of Invermere for dinner at a local pub for pizza.
It had been so many years since driving through this cool, charming lake town, and great fun
being able to take a break with Mark's family, two terrific people.

Gosh, we left T and John close to 9:30, and it was the first time we have driven "M" in the dark,
ever, I think. What an odd, kind of disorienting experience. Finding a campground was
pessimistic, and reading the map difficult. We backtracked to Fairmont, drove up the hill,
through a pretty posh residential neighborhood, Mark thinking a provincial park was our
destination. At the top, a gravel dirt turn-out delighted and surprised us, and both of us,
simultaneously, said this is it, our place for the night. We bunked down next to windows of a
very nice home to our right, and an unfinished complex of houses was across the street. The
dark night hid the view over the cliff, but I could see the tops of pines, so was a bit nervous
about not parking too close to the edge.

Both pooped, we laughed about the potential of an officer asking us to leave our beloved space,
and how we scripted telling him/her that Mark had just taken an Ambien, and that I couldn't
speak English, much less understand the situation. He was given a tip by some woman with
know-how, that in Canada, one cannot be told to drive further to camp, if someone has been
drinking, so that would have been another one, since I had had my half rationed glass of beer
with my pizza.

 

Sleep was good until more thunderous claps and lightning woke us, and took its adrenaline
effect on Mark for a while. Rising at 7 a.m., he pushed up the shade, and closed it right away,
after viewing a young man walking his dog, directly in front of the window, with Mark not ready
to be seen. After a few, shades were raised again, and we roared, because our view was of the
lovely Selkirks and a river below us, ringed by forests; another water campsite! We have lucked
out royally on this trek for amazing places to settle.

Coming through the border, an Officer Fox was assigned to randomly search vehicles today,
and we were the correct number order, I suppose. After questioning us outside, he entered "M",
told Mark gently, to keep his distance when he was looking through the fridge and freezer. He
pulled out the two tomatoes we forgot to list, and our three U.S. oranges, and informed us that
no citrus was allowed, and tomatoes from Canada are now also on the list. Fox was about
teaching us, and tried some mild intimidation tactic, saying we could be fined $300, for
withholding the tomato stash, but now we know, so shame on us should we bring the veggie
through again, and no fine this time around.

Driving south through Bonners Ferry is always a memory lane journey for me, and Mark is a
captive audience to my repetitious verbal meanderings of landmarks representing personal
histories and people in my child-rearing years. I love Bonners, consider it to have more multicultural
groups than most places in north Idaho: the Mennonites (I intend to visit their newish
assisted living facility one day, where a LPN told me she is greeted in the morn by acappella
singing by the staff); a more recent Amish settling; a large Mormon community; Hispanics who
originally came for seasonal work at the former Anheiser-Busch hops fields in Porthill, with many
families staying to raise their kids here; the Kootenai tribal members who are very visible and
blended into the their own and the town's communities; less than a handful of Asian and African
American blends (like Max and Lucy---hapa haoles= half minority and half caucasian); and the
loggers and environmentalists. A fascinating mix of peoples, that, overall, seem to co-exist fairly
well, helping eachother out when needed, e.g. house fires, illnesses.

Back in Sandpoint feels good, too. Mark took-off right after transitioning my stuff from "M", to
move on to his next set of projects and house pulling-together. Two months and a week
traveling together was fabulous, with a wide variety of scenes, nature's awe-inspiring patterns,
colors, wildlife, beloveds visited and enjoyed, and with a partner who shared his special
paradise haunts with me, consistently and joyfully. Truly, this has been a trip of a life-time, and
has enrichened my 64 years so deeply and with riches to be cherished. It was relaxing, fluid
and fun writing each day's memories, using words out of context and inventing some new ones,
I'm sure. This journal and Mark's "right there" photographs will not let me forget this kick-off to
retirement, for which I am very grateful.