Thank you Steve!!!!

Spent precious nights and days at Patrick’s house in the Washington woods. Thank you Patrick, Jane and Steve! Washed inside and outside of the LT…ahhhh, clean. Scrubbed the dogs, did laundry, washed my hair in soft water, (sans the cheating quarter game, which is akin to gambling but the stakes are minutes of hot water…. more on that later), slept in a dark cool room on a ‘just right’ inflatable bed. Found ice for my drinks and generous kindness from Steve. Olympia and Mason played chase me chase me games on the emerald lawn. Even watched the TV a bit. It was perfect except for one thing, I could not see the lake. I could walk there and catch glimpses through the neighbors yards but could not sit close to the water and count loons. Being the suspicious sort I began to wonder if, in fact, there were any loons…maybe all that nonsense about “private property” and folks “owning” the lake was a cover for the unhappy truth. According to the websites I found, the loon vacates in the presence of too much disturbance, such as jet skis and crowding by other species, including humans I’d think. …   Loon Lake is a thriving lakefront resort community, population of approximately 31,000, with its major economy coming from recreation, tourism, timber, agriculture, and mining. Lakefront homes and communities offer year round residency as well as vacation home rentals.

Since my view of the lake was so spotty, I’m going to say there are no loons left at all, of course the opposite could be true as well. In years past, a dear friend used to dream about Loon Lake, how it was filled with birds calling…  hmm???? I heard a train, cars on the highway, the wind and nice quiet. Maybe it’s the wrong time of year? The only loon at hand was the one hung in the kitchen.

The loons live on the kitchen wall! Every hour they let you know!

I’m generally behind on posting from where I am in actuality, it’s a nice reflection. I hadn’t considered that it could spoil the delicate timing of my trip. I was quite sad for several days to discover that my visit to Yellowstone fell into such turmoil. If it hadn’t been so hot, 90  to 100 degrees and over I could have lingered another week and half to correct the timing error. I would have liked that. Heat is not good to me; it feels good and then wham….headache, dizziness, shallow breathing, a sort of sudden incoherence overtakes me…. if I don’t run, and I can’t run, for air conditioning I know I will soon fall to the ground with a pounding pulse and swilling stars.   The heat is like a pressure compactor on my cells. I grew up in the desert, heat didn’t phase me, but apparently all that has changed. If I drink lots of fluids it helps a bit, mostly it means frequent trips to the bathroom…ergo the LT!  (And the LT”s air conditioner.)

My Mom reminded me of the 101 uses for a bandana, one of those uses is to get it really wet and drippy–don’t wring it out–and put it ’round your neck….that was amazing. When I did that my head came back. It was even better to start using the dog’s water sprayer on me. If I kept myself soaked I could be outside for a little longer.

Yellowstone did not happen. I can rationalize that National Parks are not a good place to bring pets. This is particularly true when you have two pets and there is only one of you.

An early stop on the lake tour

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I took a day trip through Spokane, they have a “groovy” natural foods store, Huckleberry’s, that I enjoyed. Yummy Grilled Salmon Cesar Wrap from the bistro! The local neighborhood was a surprise; well foliaged gentle residential as opposed to the mishmash commercial main drag. The lake at Coeur d’Alene was smashing! Hey look at that I used the word, “smashing.” The drive was glorious but, of course, I became bored with gorgeous and three-quarters around I wanted out. Trusting my Garmin I blindly followed–people ask me if I get scared—hell yes I do! There I was with noting but a strange voice badly pronouncing the names of streets that were not posted as I  joggled the LT straight up on the loose gravel paths that led who knew where. The view was to die for, I skipped taking pictures or making sidetrips for fear of sinking the LT’s tires in quicksand.

I had a lot of fun, spritzing myself and learning lessons from Mason. For example, when I returned to Coeur d’Alene for a walk in the park, it was Mason who insisted we head to the wet grass for a laydown. It felt so good, my heart stopped pounding in it’s coolness. He would not budge until my pulse was back to normal. And it was Mason who sat on the edge of his seat as we drove back in the long dusk, telling me that I was doing fine and that If I couldn’t find the way in the dark he’d find it for me.

Spotted this on my drive into the hills

Having fun In the back yard

We have company

I stopped at AAA for new maps but I still use this one!

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