I started my day before the sun came up and enjoyed reading (the Bible, an old book of famous speeches, Montana guides, and a bit about my family and their dairy farm).
Jordan joined me in the dining room for a tasty quiche and lively conversation with Thomas over coffee (I had the Earl Grey’s tea instead). And we were off. Kind of.
We stopped off to say see-you-later to Nana. We had a delightful time, but we wished we could take her with us for an adventure.
We drive by McCall, Idaho–one of my nostalgia epicenters. Memories come like a gentle rocking of the earth, not strong enough to knock the pictures off the wall, but strong enough that I am alive & present, feeling reverberation after reverberation: Grandpa & Grandma, family land, Dad’s stories & Mom’s friends, skiing at Brundage, boating on Payette Lake, getting ice cream downtown on those eternal sunlight summer nights . . .
And it feels good to be back in the good ol’ US of A.
But the day is waning and we go to bed earlier than some of my senior friends.
Our destination? Hearthstone Lodge in beautiful Kamiah, Idaho.
(Kamiah, a small town nestled in a beautiful valley along the Clearwater River, is right on the Lewis & Clark (and might we add Sacajawea?) Highway. This is Nez Pierce territory, and I believe Kamiah is a word from their language.)
Hearthstone Lodge is a bit like Tom Bombadil’s house I think–but I have only read about Tom’s house. Now excuse me Peter Jackson, why did you leave that out of your movies? Anyhow the Inn Keepers, Harty and his wife, are masters of their trade. This place is a stately haven of rest: hospitality, furniture dating from Abraham Lincoln’s time, soothing music, jacuzzis, well-appointed rooms overlooking the river, fireplaces of course . . . and I could go on.