RV Adventure, Day 3

Been awhile since I last posted about my 2008 RV adventure. Thought I'd continue it again, just to keep up the discipline of writing here.

Day 3: Cascade, ID to Wentworth Campground, National Forest Service, near Lolo Pass
miles: 231
fuel: $74.00
campground fee: $8.00

Followed the Salmon River through eastern Idaho, a wide blue-green highway with Class 1 and 2 rapids. Not many rafters today, a Saturday, but lots of fisher folks around Riggins, their cars lining the highway on both sides for a half to three-quarters of a mile. They must be elbow to reel out there, below the pavement, in the rocks.

The hills here are nearly bare, sandy gravel covering the tracks of old volcanoes. As I got close to Grangeville, I noticed a few fancy houses way up above the river. Folks with a true love of solitude, who don't want to spend any time mowing would be my guess. They can see for miles, and that reminds me of the Anasazi, who lived on cliff faces, under rocky, smoke-stained overhangs, their places of entry hidden from enemies.

I left the Salmon, and followed the Clearwater, one branch and then another. This is what sells postcards--conifers as far as you can see, a soft understory, the wide, shallow river, bluer than the sky, frothing with rapids and winter melt. Here were the rafters and kayakers, some in wet suits, as the water must be numbingly cold.

Highway 12 from Kooksia to Lolo is surely one of the most scenic routes in the U.S. The tumbling blue river, the deep green conifers, the indigo sky, round brown granite peeping out from under the slick, flowing water.

And the motorcycles! Hawgs, I mean. Big fat tires, guys with ponytails, and gals hanging on their backs like papoose. They ride the corners so low, their handlebars almost touch the road. Blasting hawgs, just like an old Henry Fonda movie. I even saw a few baby boomer couples, riding their candy-apple Hondas, towing trailers.

The heat wave I've been running from has finally caught up--must have been in the mid-nineties high in the mountains today, and I resisted using the a/c in the Jeep as we steadily gained altitude. I am scaling the back of the river, upstream to where I'll find her youth, small and boiling.

Sitting outside, surrounded by flies and the occasional mosquito (scouts for this evening's grazing), I don't want to move. Finally, the bugs drive me inside, and I turn on the fan in the trailer, which immediately blows a fuse. I pray I've got a replacement in this little playpen I haven't used for 5 years. You might guess the anthem I sang when I found one and the fan sucked some warm, but moving air, inside. It wasn't the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, but it was sure heart felt!