1. I started my day having to make a decision. The Kootenai Lake ferry workers' union decided to shut down the ferry again, for the third day in a row, in the afternoon. I had wanted to cruise over to a provincial park to hike outside Balfour, go to the hot springs in Ainsworth, and pay a short visit to Nelson. I decided to wait to do these things until next time I visit. There's a wetland trail just outside the town of Crawford Bay and I drove over to it and walked through a marshy area and onto a beach on Crawford Bay itself. I had hoped to see some water fowl, but, as with my hike on the Kootenai National Wildlife Refuge near Bonners Ferry, no such luck. I enjoyed the panorama of the Selkirk Mountains and way the clouds were resting on the mountainsides in several places. I will be eager to see how the pictures I took of the mountains and the clouds turn out when I bring them up on my computer in Kellogg. It's hard for me to imagine that the pictures will look anywhere as dramatic and stirring as the mountains and clouds themselves looked to me as I stood on the beach with Crawford Bay stretching for miles in front of me.
2. So, I hit the road. It was tempting to stop at Lockhart Creek and hike in there again, but I decided I wanted to go to Ponderay and hike a new trail rather than repeat one I'd hiked the day before. If, however, I lived on the east side of Kootenay Lake, I'd go to the Lockhart Creek Trail regularly.
Once the border agent got a solution and cleaned off my smudgy passport card, I entered the USA with ease and I rumbled down Highway 1 and then 95 and returned to The Gathering Place and enjoyed a roast beef and cheddar sandwich on sourdough with a small chef salad. I thought about stopping in Bonners to exchange my leftover Canadian money, but I decided to hang on to it. I'll save it for my next trip to British Columbia which, depending on the weather and road conditions, will be as soon as possible.
3. Upon arriving in Ponderay, I drove straight to the Mickinnick trailhead. Some raindrops sprinkled on me as I got out of the Sube, a little wind was kicking up, and the skies were dark gray and ominous. I decided I'd hike for a while, get a feel for what this trail is like, but if I started to feel wary about the weather, head back.
That's just what I did. I loved the trail as far as I hiked. It's a beautifully forested trail that also features outcroppings of rocks and some stern rock faces and, when they open up, some very impressive panoramas of the surrounding area. I got to a certain point -- I don't know how far up the trail I was -- and I didn't like how the wind felt and some rain started to fall, so, out of prudence, I headed back down the trail. It bothered me that no one knew I was on this trail -- I'd forgotten to text anyone that I was hiking -- and so I called it a day, happy that I'd experienced what I did and eager to return.
My Airbnb suite, as I'd been told ahead of time, is next to an active music studio. As I got settled in, I could hear one of my landlords giving some kind of a music lesson, I think. Well, whatever was going on, I got to listen to the easy sounds of jazz electric guitar, a bass player, and a drummer. When the bass notes reached low, the suite rattled. It's good I'd been told ahead of time that activity at the studio could always be happening in the afternoon, but that 6:30 was the cutoff time.
The rattling walls and live music didn't bother me and I knew I wasn't hanging around long anyway. My plan was to go to the Laughing Dog taproom and enjoy some of their superb beers. The taproom is about five minutes from where I'm staying and, upon arriving, I immediately recognized Katlyn (or Catlyn), the efficient and knowledgeable beer pourer, from when Byrdman and I were here a few months ago. I ordered a half pint of Alpha Dog Imperial IPA and loved it so much that I ordered a second half pint. I really didn't want to leave. So, I went down a couple of notches in alcohol content and ordered a half pint of the 14th Anniversary Hazy IPA -- another superb beer.
I exercised discipline at this point and settled my bill. I didn't want to. The hedonist in me wanted to enjoy the taste of more beer. But, my inward moderating powers won out.
I drove a very short distance to the Silo bar and ordered a huge meal: a chicken fried New York strip steak with mashed red potatoes and grilled bacon and Brussel sprouts. I also ordered a kind of rum mule called an Ol' Farragut and sipped on it for well over a half an hour, drinking most of it as a dessert beer. This was a delicious dinner and I had a pleasant stay at the Silo keeping an eye on the Monday Football game and watching twenty-something men in flannel shirts or dark hoodies shoot pool and drink PBRs and file out the side door to have a smoke.
I left and was back in my suite in five minutes, ready, after much driving, two solid hikes, some good beer, a tart cocktail, and a big plate of food, to fall into bed.
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