Remy and I awoke in Kalispell this morning, had a little breakfast, and got our things packed up. I made one trip to the car with all my bags, hoping that my hostess, Karen, would come out before I left. She did. She slept in later than usual, probably making up for the fact that she'd been in Alaska with one of her daughters where there's very little darkness right now, and she'd hit the ground running when she got back yesterday. Anyway, I was glad to be able to say good-bye. Staying with her and her daughter -- and the nearly invisible other guest -- was delightful.
I decided to go north to check out the town of Whitefish. I had read about a spa there and considered treating myself to a massage, and perhaps some other pampering. When I got to Whitefish and looked the spa up again, however, I discovered that it doesn't open for the season till June 1. So Remy and I parked and just walked around the lovely little tourist town. I found a nail salon and had a mani and pedi in lieu of the spa pampering.
As we walked and looked, I found a treat to take to my first hosts in Seattle (I won't give it away because I know they're reading this), and had a snack. My "treat sensor" seems to have been activated lately, perhaps because I'm not riding and exercising as much as I had hoped. Anyway, when the will is weak I find myself getting on the sugar wagon and not getting off all day. Then, at night I tell myself, "Not again tomorrow. Nothing. You can't have any refined sweeteners. You know it. It will just start all over again." And then tomorrow comes and the will is weak ...
Today was pretty rough in that respect. I had coffee with honey and cream and some gluten free caramel parfait thing. Later, at a stop in another town, I had another cup of coffee and a scoop of vanilla ice cream! Yikes. And I wasn't hungry.
All that aside, the drive from Whitefish to Sandpoint, ID, where I'm spending the night at the Quality Inn, was as stunningly beautiful as many of the other routes I've been on. The road passed through the Kootenai National Forest and ran for many miles along Lake Kootenusa. I kept thinking, "Is this a veeerrryyy long lake, or a very wide, flat river." The answer to that anywhere in the west it would seem is it's a dammed river.
Once again, I was awed and amazed by the work of civil engineers, in particular at a bridge that spanned the river/lake.
Oh, I noticed right away as I entered Idaho that the Idahoans don't need to travel at quite the same rate of speed as their Montanan neighbors. In Montana, the speed limit on the expressways is 80, and on the two-lane back highways it's 70 (except where curve speeds of 35-55 are wisely posted). As soon as I saw the "entering Idaho" sign, I saw a speed limit sign for 60. I have no problem with this, as most people go a little faster, anyway; and I was a bit apprehensive about the 70 limit on some of those mountain roads in Montana.
I was looking forward to a 15-mile or so bike ride upon arriving in Sandpoint. The hotel rests near a lake, and there's a trail that travels along it and across a long bridge span. My body, however, is saying, "Rest. Ride later. Go to bed early and ride tomorrow." My mind is saying back, "You know you'll feel better if you get some decent exercise."
I'll let you know who wins.
Tomorrow, I have to get an early start to meet up with Emily, David & Ginger in Moscow at 10 a.m.
In case you're wondering, I thought a lot about "stuff" today as I drove. I imagined what it would be like to simply "go home" again when my trip is done and, happily and perhaps a bit surprisingly, that didn't feel good at all. I thought about staying in another hotel room tonight and what it might be like to have a very small apartment or a room in another person's house, and that felt pretty good. I guess one thing for me to realize is that there is no planned end point on this journey -- sort of like life. We all know it will end, but we don't know what the end point is. I sort of feel as though I'm approaching everything that happens from this point on as part of a journey -- not that the rest hasn't been; I just didn't often look at it that way. This may mean continuing to physically move about the planet, or stopping here and there but trying to keep everything else buzzing along with the energy in the vicinity.
I guess as long as I'm away from most of you and you're interested in what I'm doing and thinking, I'll keep writing. Thanks for reading.
I just thought I'd let you know I am keeping up with your adventure. You are seeing scenic beauty that Shelly and I traveled through last summer. Seems like the same route or at least same cities. Be safe.
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