Camper's Log: July 2006

Somebody stop the summer clock already! Slow it down atleast. Its ironic (in an Alanis Morrissette sort of way) that as the days become longer they tend to feel shorter. And lately, days have been passing by as quickly as aggressive drivers on the Connector. Its high time someone cracks down on this behavior. This whole Time thing. Really, its getting ridiculous.

Like, I haven't found the time to tell you about how a week ago Jennifer and I were cramming various camping supplies into the back seat of her Corrola so that she could see out the rear window on the drive to Upper Payette Lake. The effort was made more challenging by the presence of nearly every piece of bedding I own. I've been meaning to tell you that we stopped at Fred Meyer to load up on the groceries we would need for the weekend's camping trip. (We'd later discover that the creative theme to our weekend's menu was "sloppy") But first I wanted to tell you about how we obtained our requisit road trip mocha's from the Flying M on Friday morning before heading north. What I haven't had the time to say doesn't consist of a story-its just the facts. A camper's log, so to speak. First though, the mochas:

This time of year, with these kinds of temperatures (100+-), the iced mocha is usually preferred over the hotter version. Upon sipping an iced mocha, one realizes the utility of the heat missing from the drink. Mochas, both hot and cold, are so delicious that without some built in mechanism to slow their consumption, it is entirely possible, and more than likely, that a serving could be finished off in less than 3 minutes. Thus, the heat. And, why on Friday morning, Fern and I chose mochas that would exist long enough to get us to Horseshoe Bend, where we'd find other things to consume.

Over the short time it took to drive to Horseshoe Bend, the temperature must have risen ten degrees outside. And it seemed as though everyone in that one horseshoe town had a craving for Subway, because the Chevron that housed the lil' sandwhich shop was beyond full capacity soon after we arrived. Kids were sitting on the floor next to the Slim Jims and fig bars, eating their sandwhiches. For lack of seating, Fern and I were forced to share shade with strangers outside on a bench while we ate our mayonnaisey lunch.

The drive north afterwards was pleasant and scenic and not too scary. The music that I carefully selected for the trip included Built to Spill's new album You in Reverse, Iron and Wine, Noe Venable, Death Cab for Cutie's Plans, and a Belle and Sebastian album. Fern also brought Belle and Sebastian, as well as the Beastie Boys, the Shins (I think), and several other discs. So, for much of the trip I enjoyed listening to music, studying the new Idaho Gazateer I purchased at Fred Meyer, and making sure Fern saw every cool or odd thing I saw along the way.

The last several miles of the drive to Upper Payette Lake took place on a perfect piece of asphalt that snaked through the forest, past expensive properties alongside Payette Lake, and paralleled a mellow stream. Soon after arriving at our destination, we located a campsite which overlooked the pristine, sparkling lake. Quickly, we set up camp. During the endeavor, we made first contact with wildlife of the region. We spied a large deer standing majestically in the woods. Also, we became intimately familiar with more than one of the area's flying insects. The mosquitos were not the worste I've ever experienced, but they were definately out in force. Next, we stretched out our legs by walking almost halfway around the lake via a dirt road. At the end of the road we came upon a trail which Fern informed me is a part of her dad's morning coffee hike whenever he and Mary (and, on occasion, the family) camp at the Upper Payette. It was a beautiful part of the hike for sure, as the wide trail meandered right alongside the lake shore, through various interesting and pretty flora.

By the time we approached the area where we expected to find our campsite, we were very ready to be done walking. We had covered 3-5 miles already, and I personally was looking forward to a nice sit in my camp chair. Yet as we walked along the dirt road we came upon a maintained campground that we knew was past our own site. Somehow we hadn't seen our camp and had walked well past it. So, weary and dragging our feet, we backtracked another half mile to stand in amazement at the sight which we didn't see before--our camp, including tent and car, sitting behind a few skinny trees, just waiting for the return of its residence.

We plopped down in our chairs, relaxed a bit, cleaned up a bit, and headed out on a small bike ride. We peddled back to the paved road and headed north in order to get a quick look at any dirt roads and trails that looked promising for future bike riding adventures. We turned off on a dirt road that was particularly, um, jostling. At this time; Fern, out of necessity and genius, devised a makeshift brassier which tamed the jostling and made the ride much more doable for her.

Back at camp, Fern and I shared a craving hunger for sustenance. Sticking to our prepared menu, we had chili dogs for supper. Later, as the stars began to appear, we sat around the campfire and sipped wine. (the expert at the Co-op told me that the wine I selected was the perfect complement to chili dogs)

Sleep did happen Friday night and Saturday morning. However, it was one of the hottest nights I've experienced when camping. Because of that, and due to the fact that I had forgotten my inflatable mattress, I was unable to sleep like the baby I sometimes am.

Right. Saturday morning breakfast consisted of Lil Sizzlers n' scrambled eggs, as well as excellent coffee prepared by Fern and her late coffee press-RIP. (the press would break on the last day of the trip) After lounging around for awhile, we jumped in the car and headed to McCall in search of super happy fun time floatation devices. The extemely hot sun and the cool crisp lake got Fern and I excited about playing in the water. In McCall, Pauls "department" store failed to produce the goods we were looking for. -though we both procured a pair of sweet river shoes for 8$. McCall's Rite Aid had the right stuff-inflatables of all shapes and sizes, and all at a fairly decent price. I purshased a thingymajig that you can lay down on (what do you call those?) and Fern bought a donut shaped thinymajig.

The day was getting on by the time we returned to camp, so after a short break we readied ourselves for the big adventure of the weekend-a mountain bike ride to Loon Lake. To hear about that epic ride, and for pictures, go to Fern's blog at http://sidetracked.quellesurprise.com/.
I'll add that the first half of the ride was just about as perfect as a ride could be. It more than made up for the overly technical/scary second half. The wilderness and lake were simply gorgeous. It definately exceeded expectations.

At camp I quickly consumed an ice cold fuzzy navel. Fern and I went down to the lake to clean up as best we could. For some reason, I challenged myself to fully submerge my body in the lake, despite the frigid waters. It took atleast 20-30 minutes, but I was able to become somewhat accustomed to the cold, and gave myself a thorough cleansing.

That night we had sloppy joes for supper.

With my new air mattress, I was able to sleep deeply the night of Saturday evening/Sunday morning. Breakfast consisted of granalo, eggs, and coffee. While Fern was away, a medium sized fox trotted through the campsite, sniffing at things along the way. He didn't seem to care that I was sitting not more than a few yards from him. I kept my eye on the fox as it scavenged around the campsite next to ours. For a moment I sat back down and sipped my coffee. Suddenly, the fox returned, walking right passed me, and jumped onto a large rock located at the edge of camp. At this point, it appeared as though the fox was simply checking me out. I remembered that Fern's camera was in her bag. I grabbed it and prepared to take a picture of the fox on the rock, but a noise caused the it to bolt out of the campsite.

After such a tough day Saturday, Fern and I were both looking forward to a casual, relaxing Sunday spent in camp. So when Fern returned from the bathroom, she knitted while I attempted to start a fire without using matches. I had never done so before, and thought it would be quite the accomplishment if I could. Carefully I gathered everything I thought I'd need. My focus was on planning-finding just the right materials and setting up my working space to be comfortable. My grand plan came to naught when I was unable to keep the spinning stick (attached to a string and bow) steady.

The day became scorching hot. Fern and I made our way to the lake with our inflatables. Despite the frigid water, we were able to float around a bit, explore the shore, throw stones (splash contest), and build a "warming pool" out of large rocks. Feeling accomplished, we broke down camp, packed up the car, and went to McCall for lunch/dinner. We stopped in at McCall's shopping mall where we browsed through a store full of distasteful items for decorating your cabin; and checked out a store full of absolutely freaky insects in display cases, a variety of polished stone items, and colorful framed butterflies. Before leaving McCall, we visited one of Fern's favorite antique stores. It was a large, neat store in which the items on sale were arranged according to color-there was a brown area, a green area, blue, and so on.

The drive back to Boise was nice. In Cascade, I purchased an icy vanilla frepe and took over driving duties from Fern, who was absolutely wiped out from the trip.

And that was last weekend, minus some fun facts about chipmunks and yellow birds and such. I hope you found it informative. Now I've got to get going and do something worth writing about.