Mood:  a-ok

When I opened the Coeur d'Alene motel room door, first thing in the morning, rain was falling at a 45 degree angle, branches flying around like the arms of a conductor.  It was almost enough for me to try to get more sleep.   But duty calls.  Despite the 25 mph wind forecasts, the wind died down as I fastened the panniers to my bike.  There was a soft rain all morning, enough to require a rain jacket and pants.

To my knowledge, there was only one way to Missoula from Coeur d'Alene, and that was on I-90.  Although most of the locals couldn't verify the legality of riding on I-90, I set off early with the goal of getting to a town, just this side of Lookout Pass, called Wallace.  The shoulders to I-90 were quite wide and the drivers quite courteous.

The trouble with exerting alot of energy when cycling with rain gear is that while the gear keeps the rain from penetrating, one gets soaked anyway from perspiration.

Around mid-morning, while riding through a rather large pull off area, I noticed a white car pull over in front about 1/4 mile ahead of me and park.  I hope it wasn't a policeman.  As I approached, trying to act as if I were doing nothing wrong, the door opened and an arm waved me to a stop.  What do I do now?  I know, I'll plead ignorance, not a big stretch, all things considered.

I pulled alongside the car and stopped next to the driver's door.  Inside was a rather large woman who definitely was not a cop.  It was worse.  She was a Jehovah's Witness.  She wanted me to have one of her religious tracts.  I graciously accepted, and we chatted for a bit.  When she learned that I was heading over the pass, she said that I should take the bicycle trail. It goes up close to the top.  I thanked  her and got back on the road, one tract heavier than when I started this morning.

Did I mention that at breakfast someone mentioned that I would be going over Fourth of July Pass, a very small pass, in their opinion?  I should have listened a little closer.  Yes it was a small pass, and totally misnamed as it offered little about which to celebrate.  However, once again I froze coasting downhill, only this time Karen wasn't there with our car for me to warm up in.  The first exit I came to, I turned off and stopped at a restaurant for lunch.  Upon eating and downing several cups of coffee (actually just holding the cup with both hands trying to get warm) I was still shivering.  So I brought in a couple of my panniers, went into the men's room, and changed into some dry clothes. Aah!  Now that is more like it!

Before leaving I chatted with several people about this supposed bike trail.  Sure enough, there was one, and I could get on it just five miles up I-90 at the Cataldo exit.  Maybe there was some Divine Intervention that had that lady stop. Had she not stopped, I would not have heard about this trail (which turned out to be terrific!).  I'm not sure whose God orchestrated our encounter, hers or mine.  They're probably the same.

One thing that I wanted to be sure of was to experience and see things of interest, and not get overly caught up with the process of the trip.  I wanted to smell the roses on the way (or whatever fragrant flora is in season).  So when I saw an exit sign that said "Cataldo Mission State Park", I was sure that this was not the right exit, but it intrigued me, especially when I saw this beautiful old mission on top of the hill.  I exited to check it out.

The Cataldo Mission was built in 1850 and is the oldest standing building in Idaho.  It is a marvelous piece of architecture, and was built with axes, drills and adzes, no saws.  The founding priest was schooled in architecture, art and was a physician (the only physician in the territory.  So not only is the Mission beautiful, he used his artistic talents to make it special. Very special.  It is too much to explain here, but understand that this landmark is truly remarkable.  Besides getting a personal tour by the park ranger, this was also an ideal time to have a couple of minutes of personal worship.

The bike trail at the next exit, was everyting promised and more.  I found out later that it had just been swept yesterday, and weaved through beautiful woods, wetlands, and meadows as it followed the Coeur d'Alene River upstream. Because it was once an old railroad track, the grade never exceeded 2% making for an easy, quiet, incredibly beautiful and peaceful ride to Wallace, Idaho.  I found out that the bike trail actually starts on the south side of Lake Coeur d'Alene and is around 75 miles long.  From Cataldo to Wallace was 22 wonderful miles of peace and solitude.

Wallace is a fascinating town and one that I would love to return and visit for a day.  The area is called Silver Valley because of the extensive silver mining, much of it still going on today.  Anyway, Wallace is sort of like being dropped into a town in the 1940s or 1950s. 

Tomorrow, I go over Lookout Pass, and enter Montana.  My destination will be a mid-point betwen Wallace and Missoula.

Will McMahan