A Strange and Lovely Spot

Mom and I embarked on what turned into a mammoth drive on Thursday to arrive where I am right now, at Lake Wallowa, Oregon (accent on second syllable). We undertook this craziness to attend a family reunion of people from my grandmother, her mother's side of the family, the Marsden's. They are mostly Mormon, and very fun and nice, though I found myself relieved to see one of the young in-laws smoking this morning, so clearly there are a few special cases in the mix, not unlike myself. Not that I smoke, but y'know…

To begin with, it took two days of driving to get here. I left Calgary on Thursday morning at 9:30, and we got to Sandpoint, Idaho at 6:00 pm PST, so that was 9 ½ hours of butt-numbing. The next day we went from Sandpoint at 10:00 and did not arrive to the camp spot until 5:00 pm. The wild thing is that on Sunday afternoon we start the reverse journey. Egad. However, we have been very adventurous and tenacious, especially when it comes to quality food. On Thursday we stopped for lunch at the organic café in Fernie. I just love it there. They create a menu of fresh, local food and serve it in this quaint old house, converted into a café. For dinner that night we were determined not to get stuck eating fried chicken or burgers, so we adventured through Sandpoint until we found Jalapenos for Cilantro Chicken. Oh, yummy and a great patio. Searching for cute restaurants in a new town that you fall in love with the instant you enter it…I just love that. She said we should ASK someone. I mean seriously. This is one of those times when you just don't want to ask because finding that special place yourself is truly magical. Friday we found the Café Sage quite by accident in Lewiston, right on the border of Idaho and Washington. Again, fresh and delicious homemade soups, salads, sandwiches, art up everywhere, the owner is there working, not a deep fryer to be found. In fact, the owner came out to talk to us about our map and I doubt we would have made it so easily to our destination without her wise advice. She even told us where to go to get camping groceries. So, we arrived finally, after driving through cute town after cute town and warm, beautiful lake after hot, sandy beach, and the Rattlesnake Gorge, to our spot in the low mountains of northeast Oregon to the camp itself…

In order to avoid high costs, the family booked the local boy scout camp, expecting anywhere from 30 – 100 family members to attend. I have been taking pictures madly, but it is a little bizarre, to say the least (see facebook). There is a costly metal suspension bridge, which abruptly ends in a staircase that goes down to the middle of the river. There is a Sanitorium next door (check me in, already). There are no real camping spots, just fields and hills, so our tent gives the distinct impression that you are in a dentist's chair while you sleep, it is at such an angle. There are old, abandoned and derelict cabins, which only make me more determined to stick it out in the tent. We are using an old stump as a table.

Today, as always, I got up early, so decided to go for a jog. I ran down the hill twenty minutes to the state park, then hiked 30 minutes back up the hill. Small branches of the family invited me for breakfast all along the way, and though I like them and so appreciate the generosity, was determined to have my nut bar for breakfast and THAT's IT. This was not to be, however. When your Grandmother's brother hikes up to your tent, and demands that you come eat his hot breakfast, you damn well go, no matter how "pot belly" the food may be. White flour blueberry pancakes, fried spam ("sausage") and Camper's Blend (potatoes, eggs, onions) awaited me, in addition to a big glass of milk. Ok, the ONLY thing in this breakfast that I eat are the blueberries, the eggs, and the onions, but I sat down with a smile, and a plastic fork to eat my bloody breakfast like only a grandniece can. It could not be helped.

Breakfast completed, I felt the need to escape for two reasons; 1. My ardent desire to come to the lake and lay on the beach, and 2. My burning passion to not be force-fed last night's leftover pork on a bun for lunch today. Mom dropped me off at the beach at 10:00 am quite graciously, and with apologies for my being alone. Lol. I told her not to come back until 4:00. It is currently 1:30. If I get sick of myself before then, I can pack up and walk back to camp, though so far I have been leisurely reading every single article in the Vogue magazine with Sarah Jessica Parker on the cover, that my sister gave me a week ago, and now doing a little journaling and a little blogging.

The beach is as odd as all the other spots here. It feeds out directly from a huge mountain creek, though is strangely warmish. I left my diving shoes in mom's truck of course, so am forced to suffer like all the other hapless flipflop wearers. There are all types of people out here today. On the right is another huge family of Mormons, though very good looking and posh ones…not too traditional. On my left are the family of three lesbians and their sundry children…either that or they are girlfriends who just like to kiss a lot. The three of them seem to have perfectly well-adjusted kids who all get along better than anyone else out here, and their party includes a yellow lab puppy that makes my heart MELT. There is everything from ocean kayaks and paddle-boats, to elaborate BLOW UP yacht that fit 8 people, and motor and speed boats on the water. Dogs are allowed. Dogs are never allowed! Oh….wait…a wooden canoe just took off from this beach with two dudes in it (I took canoeing as a one credit course in university, so I think I know everything about it), and a sailboat is motoring out of the tiny marina. There is a family from Brasil speaking their beautiful Portugese…what the hell are they doing in the middle of nowhere, northeast Oregon? But then, what am I? See, I try to avoid fried canned meat, and end up with a rich and entertaining world splayed out before me. There are no accidents.

Sunday night: Side notes: the huge family on my right turned out to be Marsden's attending the same reunion. The kids who swamped the canoe are in my family. Oops. Didn't recognize each other. Lol. After the beach I hiked back to the camp with all my gear and had the BEST outdoor shower you can possibly imagine. It felt amazing.

Mom and I have returned to Sandpoint, and I am crazy about this little place. It has the best lake beach I have ever seen, it is in a valley, not the mountains, so it is warm, it is full of cute shops and restaurants, people from all over the States, the music festival, the bridge, the cute hotels on the waterfront…I just can't believe I haven't been here before, but I will be back.