8-11 June: Kellogg, camping, cold, and Sandpoint

8 June: Cd'A to Kellogg

On Sunday morning, Sarah was on her way to Sandpoint to visit her family, so I asked her to drop me off at a particular Tesoro station on I-90. It wasn't even close to on her way, but she dropped me off there anyway. I had already made myself a sign reading "Kellogg,' on the cardboard I'd saved in Wenatchee. For 45 minutes I waited for a ride on the I-90 entrance ramp. A lot of people waved and a few honked before ai realized my problem: I had set my pack down on the side of the road, when I already knew from past rxperience that I would get rides a lot faster if I were wearing it. I put my pack back on and in about 12 minutes I was picked up by Gus, who works in Kellogg and is, coincidentally, a friend of Alicia's.

9 June: Back on the Road

After a day of relaxing and bike rides and a night of fun and rowdiness, Jess and Willy gave me a ride back to Coeur d'Alene on Monday morning and I hit the road again. Plagued by heartburn for most of the day (a reminder of the tequila I had sipped at following my beers the night before -- yes, I should know better) I walked on the bicycle path that runs along US-95 north out of town. On my way out I stopped at Black Sheep, an outfitter, and bought some bear spray. I hope that puts some of you at ease, although I have my doubts. The guy who sold it to me just shook his head, laughed, and said, "that'll piss 'em off!" For good measure he added, "ya oughta just get a pistol."

I walked an uneventful six hours, stopping to suit up for the rain when it started, and also resting about an hour for lunch. Some distance out of Coeur d'Alene I stopped at a gas station and decided that I had run out of steam. I stood at the intersection of the bike path and the gas station driveway and started to thumb it. In about 20 minutes Bob picked me up and we chatted as he drove me to Athol. He said that the nearby Farragut State Park was nice and only $12 per night, and I (not knowing it was about five miles off the highway) said "sold." Bob drove me to the park entrance and dropped me off.

I went into the office and registered for my camp site with a very helpful woman who described each of the sites and gave me more options than I was equipped to choose between. I ended up in Camp Whitetail, site 32. It was uncrowded,close to drinking water, close to the restrooms, and close to the lake; it was, in fact, close to everything -- except for the office! My spirits fell a bit, it's true, when she told me I'd have to walk another three miles to get to my home for one night.

The walk was slow going, but okay. The only wildlife were some crows, kildeer, and a dead squirrel in the road. I got to my nice, level, comfortable, idyllic camp site, set up my tent, cached my food a little too close for comfort, and crashed into my sleeping bag for a good 12 hours.

10 June: A Rude Awakening

I was startled awake the following morning by an odd buzz and a sudden THUMP! against the side of my tent. I believe I was nearly the first hiker in history frightened into cardiac arrest by a hummingbird. The adrenaline rush from this ridiculous scare was enough to get me out of bed and moving. I packed up, ate breakfast, watched a rabbit chew on grass about three feet away, and hit the road.

After about 5 miles of pleasant walking, my left hip developed a persistent sharp pain. I stopped and rested for about 15 minutes, got up and stretched, and walked another half mile or so, but the pain returned and did not subside. Not wanting to deal with that pain, I succumbed to the temptation to take the easy way out. I crossed the road and started hitchhiking, and had a ride with Brad in about 15 minutes.

Brad dropped me off at Jimmy C's Café in Athol, where I had delicious diner french toast, a perfect over-medium egg, and bad diner coffee. I sat and journaled and read and ate for a long time -- nearly two hours, I'd say -- then set off again, testing my hip, up US-95 north. After a pInless five minutes or so I stepped it up a notch and walked a pretty good clip for nine miles or so before deciding to jump ahead to Cocolalla, which would position me for a 12 or 13 mile walk to Sandpoint the following day.

It took me about 15 minutes to get picked up by Jonathan, who passed me, turned around, and offered me a ride to Sandpoint. He took me to a trailhead outside town that he said lead to national forest. I headed only about 500 yards up the trail before finding a promising looking spot next to a hillside stream. It was perfect, except that it was quite visivle from what was obviously a partiers' hangout, complete wiith trashed tent and sleeping bag, charred firepit, and half-melted Coors and Redbull cans. I decided that given the cold, wet weather there was little likelihood of a party tonight, so I went ahead and set up camp. It turned out to be a nearly perfect campsite, just large enough for me to comfortably nest in it, with ground that was perfect for my tent stakes. Thanks in part to the stream's gurgling and burbling I slept wonderfully and awoke refreshed and ready to go.

11 June: Onward to Sandpoint

Wednesday morning I packed, quickly broke my fast, and headed down the hill for my five milw walk into Sandpoint and to the home of my CouchSurfing host, Robyn. It was a pretty easy walk with no highway walking, there being a bicycle path that ran along the highway, over the long (1-1/4 miles or so) bridge across Lake Pend Oreille, and all the way into town.

Such a nice easy day.

I am considering altering my route to Kalispell to take some more scenic roads that my host tells me are well traveled, instead of sticking to US-95/US-2. More on that later.