Soap Lake WA & St. Maries ID

Our Shakeout Trip

Amongst RVers there is what is known as a “shakeout” trip. That is when you have a new-to-you rig, and you need to take it on the road, preferably not too far from home base so that you can uncover any problems or idiosyncrasies and have them taken care of before you get too far down the road or out in the wilderness. We had a lot of that covered before we left, but it is impossible to preview every little thing that can come up when you’re living in a rolling earthquake.

Here are the things that happened on our first real drive: A) The alarm to an old system would not stop sounding unless we disconnected a wire. (TBG could explain this better, but he’s still sleeping, and it doesn’t really matter.) That left us the choice of either wearing earplugs the entire time or having the Honda’s battery run down completely. We chose option 2, knowing we could jump the Honda later but might not survive the knife-in-the-brain alarm. B) We stopped FOUR times in 166 miles. First, to get Essie weighed. Second, to hook up the Honda. Third, to get fuel, and Fourth, to get propane, which would normally have been at the same place we got diesel, but they didn’t have it where we fueled.  C) We lost a hubcap! TBG noticed it once we were at our spot, but, to be honest, I think it would have taken me a very long time to recognize that one of these tires was not like the other. I’m not proud of that.

Glitches notwithstanding, we still managed to arrive at our first destination with plenty of time to enjoy it.

Soap Lake, WA

The perfect site for our first night!

 When I was route-planning the beginning stages of our Great Escape, I needed a midway point from Old-Home to Idaho friends. TBG said, “Soap Lake!” and sure enough, it was the right distance, and it had a couple of RV places from which to choose, one being an RV “resort” and the other being the city’s RV spots along the lakeshore. We chose the city’s site. More on that in a moment.

I have said before — and will probably say again because I like the things I say and find them to be quite repeatable — that this blog is not meant to be any sort of how-to or purposely educational lesson, whether that be historical, biological, or any of the other –icals. I figure if you’re reading this, you’re on a computer and have the ability to look up any sort of data you wish. That is not to say that I won’t occasionally dazzle you with Fascinating Facts or the odd scientific name for native flora and/or fauna because, let’s face it, knowing stuff is the coolest. But I’ll go down my own rabbit holes of internet investigation, and I encourage you to do the same. I will help get you started by periodically providing links amongst the text here. You can thank me later.

Soap Lake is what is known as a  meromictic lake, and those sorts of lakes are packed with minerals and said to have healing properties both in the water and in the mud (clay.) The little town of the same name uses that to its advantage, offering places to stay and eat and play near the water, but because we arrived just after the Labor Day weekend, the summer crowds had dwindled to nearly nothing. Wahoo!

While I walked through the city’s RV park along the shoreline to select our site, TBG jumped the Honda and got it unhitched. Then I drove him around the little loop to
show him the perfect spot I had chosen.

 The campground hostess came over to welcome us, I went to pay, and TBG tried to contact the company responsible for the piece of equipment that was emitting the alarm. Once it was determined that we’d have to wait until the following morning for Minneapolis to wake up and get back to work, we suited up and “took the waters.”

Letting the stinky clay dry on my arms.

After dinner, we took a long walk around town.

TBG picks a mural.

Sunset from our “private” gazebo.

The next morning, we took another long walk around town, following the Historic Door Murals route. Soap Lake labels many things about itself as “historic”, which is their right, of course, but I think it sets itself up to be a little disappointing in that regard. It’s a cute little town, though, and I always admire the spirit little towns display with their banners and flowers and small business placards dotted along the streets.

Our next leg of the journey began along a terribly bumpy WA Highway 28. We thought we would like that more scenic route, but even though the road appeared to have been recently paved, it was tooth-breaking. Our destination was to visit long-time friends who used to live near us at Old-Home but retired and moved to St. Maries, ID (say “marys”) a few years ago. This time we only had two stops along the way, one to fuel and the other to pick up a switch we needed to permanently fix the alarming problem.

St. Maries, ID

Our friends have a place on acreage and were more than happy to provide us with a freshly-graveled (thank you!) space to put up for a few days. RV-friendly friends totally rock!

Our own private Idaho.

               

   They also fed us well with grilled steaks and all the fixins, and the gals took a nice walk around the "neighborhood" after dinner while the guys visited in the shop. We all spent the evening on the front porch (or maybe it's the back porch -- there seems to be an ongoing disagreement over which is which) looking at the stars and listening to the coyotes yip.

 

After a wonderful host-provided breakfast the next morning,

This is not their boat. Or their lake. But it was our view.

we headed out for what was supposed to be a three-mile hike in St. Joe National Forest.

Who can you trust?

Joni exclaims, “Look at all this nature!”

Although I took a few pics of the trail map for reference, and TBG chose a few trails that should have made a loop, the subsequent signage did not support the trailhead signage, and we ended up doing a 6-mile out-and-back trek. The online information for the trails indicate that it is a haunted forest, but we didn’t see anything spooky, unless you count the mismatched signs.

Or these guys.

 It was hot out, but there was plenty of tree cover, and even though TBG and I have not been getting our summertime hiking accomplished, it all worked out just fine. I think. It’s still very early as I write this, and there hasn’t been time to know yet if DOMS will strike.

I’m guessing that this particular trail is not the most scenic St. Joe’s NF has to offer, and while the guys claim to have scared up a pair of grouse, it was otherwise devoid of critters. There was no natural place to take our requisite timer-selfie, so we just stopped at a pair of facing logs and got it done.

 Give these people snacks.

                  Once home, we relaxed on the front/back porch, Erik and I laughing and smacking ourselves silly playing Beeminton armed with matching flyswatters aimed at the swarms of yellow jackets that seem to have invaded the Idaho panhandle this summer.

After dinner, we took a spin on the ATVs. If you recall, we have other ATV-loving friends who took us on a ride last year. I was being a good sport and agreed to ride along, but I should have learned from history and stayed at home with the dogs. I just don’t enjoy it at all, and I think I was pretty much a drag, holding on for dear life and taking the Lord’s name in vain more than once. We all soothed ourselves with hot showers and peach crisp.

We were set to head out again the following morning, but being in no real hurry and enjoying our time with friends, we did the “We’re Retired!” thing and stayed one more night.

Because we can.