Almost Trailside: A True Story (5 page)

Our station wagon and little travel trailer were covered in fine gray ash. When the blacktop was clear of ash from the other vehicles passing and sweeping it clean, we continued on to our destination.

There was only ten years difference in age between Tommy and his niece, Kristin. They were close growing up and stayed close as adults.

Tommy’s older sister was a teenage bride and Kristen was her first born daughter. Kristin was a beautiful young woman, inside and out; tall and shapely with long straight brown hair and a sweet personality. I always enjoyed her company.

Kristen and her husband Rod relocated to Idaho from California a few years earlier. Together, they had two adorable small children; a little girl and a little boy close in age. Their modern single story home in a middle class neighborhood was nice and clean. All of the homes had expansive front lawns and cyclone side fences or no fences at all. Residents mowing their lawns wore white filter face masks, to prevent them from breathing in the fine gray ash from the Mt. St. Helens volcanic eruption that settled in their lawns and landscaping more than two months earlier.

Kristen and Rod insisted that we sleep in their basement bedroom. We accepted their gracious invitation.

The first night there was a huge thunder and lightening storm. I loved it. The jagged lightening bolts were beautiful stretching from sky to ground lighting up the dark cloudy sky and the landscape below.

The next day Kristen and Rod drove us around the beautiful mountain town and showed us their pretty forested lake. We decided to leave Buffy locked in their garage while we were away. When we returned later that day, we were shocked to find that Buffy chewed away the weather stripping along the bottom edge of their garage door. We put her in the garage because we let her sleep in the travel trailer the night before and that didn’t turn out very well. In the morning, we discovered she had torn the screens out of the windows. Buffy didn’t like being away from us and she let us know it.

We spent that evening playing cards and chatting until Rod excused himself so he could get to bed for an early morning work schedule. Afterwards, Kristen opened up to us a little about her unhappiness. We heard they weren’t getting along very well, but didn’t see it during our visit with them. We tried to gently counsel her. She was a sensitive woman.

The next day before dinner, we sat around the kitchen table visiting. The boys were kicking a ball out in the backyard. About every fifteen minutes, the boys would come in and tell us that the ball went over the fence and that they were going next door to ask the people who lived there to get it for them. After about the fourth time, Rod figured out what was going on. The people next door were midgets and they had a little girl who often played in the backyard.

Andy and Larry were fascinated with the little girl and they wanted to see her parents. They would kick the ball
over the fence so they could go next door, ring the door bell, and see the midget family up close. When Rod told us, we immediately called the boys inside to play. Then, we went next door and apologized for our boys disturbing them. They were very nice people.

We stayed two nights with Kristen and Rod. They both were gracious hosts. We didn’t see any blatant signs of marital problems, but obviously they were present. A few years later, they divorced.

From
Coeur d’Alene, Idaho
we continued on to Tommy’s grandmother’s house. She lived in
Kamiah
,
Idaho
, a small town along the Clearwater River that followed the Lewis and Clark Trail.

On the beautiful tree lined drive, we stopped along the gently winding river to have lunch outside in nature. Colorful butterflies and busy bees floated among the wildflowers and wild mint near the sparkling river’s edge.

Continuing on the pretty road to Kamiah, wide-eyed little chipmunks scampered across the highway. We slowed down and drove carefully to avoid hitting them.

It was early afternoon by the time we turned into the quaint little river side town of Kamiah, ten blocks square in either direction, and easily found Tommy’s grandmother’s charming vintage white board house. She was standing out on her front lawn just left of the porch, with arms folded across her chest, waiting for us. The skirt of her lovely mid-calf length floral print dress softly ruffled in an occasional light breeze. Her wavy salt-and-pepper thick gray hair, gently brushed back from her face, glistened in the bright sunlight. I fondly remember her pretty smile and natural beauty. She was a sturdy woman who wasn’t afraid of work.

C
oeur d’Alene, Idaho is the largest city and county seat of Kootenai County, located on the beautiful north shore of Lake Coeur d’Alene. It is 30 miles east of Spokane, Washington and 259 miles from Seattle, Washington with a population of 35,000. Coeur d’Alene is a resort town located near two major ski resorts. The town sits on the western edge of a National Forest surrounded by trees, lakes, and campgrounds and comprises a total area of 16 square miles. The city is named after a tribe of Native American Indians who lived along the rivers and lakes of the region when discovered by French fur traders in the late 18th and early 19th century. The name Coeur d’Alene translated into English means “Heart of an Awl” perhaps a reflection of the tribe’s very tough trading practices
.

K
amiah, Idaho is the largest city in Lewis County with a population of 1300 residents and a total land area of a little over one square mile. The city is nestled on the banks of the beautiful Clearwater River in a narrow valley surrounded by scenic foothills, downstream is the Snake River. Older than the recorded history of the west, Kamiah was the winter home of the Nez Perce Indians. It was here they came to fish for steelhead and to manufacture “Kamia” ropes, hence the name Kamiah, meaning the place of “many rope litters”. The Lewis and Clark Expedition camped for several weeks during the early spring of 1806 in the Kamiah Valley waiting for the snow to melt before they could continue their journey east. It was here, among the Nez Perce Indians that the Appaloosa horse was first bred, primarily for use as a war animal
.

First, Tommy’s grandmother took us on a tour of her lovely backyard garden full of flowers, vegetables, berries, and several fruit trees. A small cottage structure out back where she did her canning was heated only by a wood burning stove.

Inside of her adorable country home, the rooms were small but everything was neat as a pin. On the wall above the over-stuffed floral sofa in her living room, she uniquely displayed a collection of porcelain plates from every state positioned in map formation of the United States. Intricate off white doilies she crocheted were neatly placed over the arms of every chair. Colorful patchwork quilts, blankets, pot holders, and more of her handiwork were lovingly evident throughout every room of the tiny house.

We spent a glorious memorable afternoon reminiscing about days gone by and listening to her wonderful stories of life in the little town. She was divorced from Tommy’s grandfather years ago, but she never mentioned it.

Before we left, she graciously gave each of us a jar of her home made jams and jellies from the fruit trees and berry bushes in her backyard. She was a strong self-sufficient attractive woman and a wonderful grandmother to Tommy and great-grandmother to our boys.

Sadly, it was the last time we ever saw her.

Chapter III

W
e had been traveling for one week and not once slept over night in our little travel trailer…that was about to change.

Heading east to Tommy’s grandparent’s house in
Philipsburg, Montana
, we were excited to begin our first real camping trip. The grandparents wanted to take us camping at the
Lodgepole Campground
and fishing at
Georgetown Lake
up in the mountains not far from their home. They were great nature lovers and campers, and especially loved to fish.

Tommy’s grandfather was a big man with a booming voice, built strong and sturdy, a product of his Danish ancestry. His hands were huge. Although he could be crusty sometimes, there was something about him that was charming and endearing. He was a retired lumber jack who worked very hard during his lifetime.

P
hilipsburg, Montana, or “P-burg” as it is known to the locals, is a quaint former mining town located 13 miles northwest of Georgetown Lake. The main street is filled with beautifully restored painted Victorian buildings featuring wonderful shops, galleries, and eateries
.

T
he Lodgepole Campground is situated along a scenic highway in the Beaverhead-Deerlodge National Forest which is the largest national forest in Montana. The Lodgepole Campground derives its name from the long and slender lodge pole pines, which surround the area. The area is also home to abundant wildlife, including moose, elk, white-tailed deer, and even bighorn sheep. Hikers, horseback riders, and mountain bikers find many trails within a few miles of the campground. The campground is conveniently located across the street from Georgetown Lake
.

G
eorgetown Lake is located high up in the Rocky Mountains, at an elevation of over 6,400 feet. Built in 1865 by damming Flint Creek, the lake is relatively shallow with an average depth of 16 feet. The lake is used primarily for recreation and for providing ranches further down the valley with water. It is widely known for its tranquil and beautiful scenery. Georgetown Lake covers more than 3,000 acres and has four public boat ramps. It is Montana’s most prolific lake with more fish caught each day per person than any other lake in the state. Georgetown Lake is one of Montana’s premier blue ribbon fisheries…offering nearly year- round angling for trophy rainbow trout, brook trout, and kokanee salmon
.