T:45: Underserved and Overutilized, Part 2

Mile 1054: Eureka, Montana

CONTINUED FROM PREVIOUS POST

In pounding rain, in what could have been a beautiful run next to the natural and deep Lake Pend Orielle , we drive on.  The road is treacherous with almost no shoulder and sight is limited by the rain.  We are ecstatic to finally see a pizza parlor.  We pull our bikes onto the porch, shed our soaking wet clothes, and enter the warm, dry, yeasty confines of this welcome refuge.  We find out that the hotel is closed and are puzzling about what to do, when a young couple comes up to us, “We saw you on the road, and just had to come and talk to you!”

Their names are Karen and David. They are from Virginia and are here to visit relatives and have Dave swim in the locally famous 1.75 mile swim across the lake.  He is an avid bicyclist, trying to convince her to take a long distance bike journey.  For their honeymoon, they hiked the entire length of the Appalachian Trail from Maine to Georgia, quite an impressive feat.  They insist on buying us beers and pizza—“So many people helped us when we were traveling.”  We sit and talk for hours about traveling, and biking, and bee-keeping.  They have warm, sunny personalities.  We are uplifted by their energy and positivity.   After they take their leave, we begin looking in earnest for a place to stay.  It is still raining.  Margo, the pizza cook, gives us the name of some upscale condos just down the road.  “Maybe they will take you for a night, if you explain your situation.” 

We make arrangements to stay at Pend Oreille Shores Resort.  It is more expensive than we want, but we need to get inside.   As we register, we are given a big stack of photocopied papers, mostly with rules, and a list of extra fees.  Even though the condo cost a ton of money, there are charges for using the internet, charges for checking out a video, charges for the wood in the fireplace, charges for using the game room.  It also has rules that say things like, “Your condo comes equipped with a dishes and pots and pans.  Your credit card will be charged if there is any change in the number or location of these materials.”

The condo is a nice, well-appointed apartment with a fireplace and Jacuzzi—and most important to us---a washer and dryer.  We immediately start washing and drying all our wet clothes.  It is nice to be out of the rain, and nice to be able to catch up on our blog, but we don’t really like it.  For an organization that is supposed to be in the hospitality business, it just doesn’t seem very hospitable.

The next day is a run to place we have been looking forward to since we heard of it, Bighorn Bed and Breakfast.  We had decided to stay at the occasional bed and breakfast on this trip.  This one situated on the Bull River looked intriguing.  Even though we just shelled out too much money for the condo in Hope, we decided to go ahead and stay at this planned indulgence.   We dropped off the road where we had been following this lovely small stream and entered Shangri-la.  With the Cabinet Mountains in the background, surrounded by natural meadows, this big hand hewn log mansion was elegant and beautiful.  Inside, there were numerous stuffed animals and the living room was at least 30 feet high.  There were expansive porches and decks, as well as a few large cabins with private decks. 

The owners were a bit frazzled because they had just hosted a wedding and reception that had gone bad and had made a big mess.  They were upset and felt put upon because they had made a special deal for a local couple whose family and friends had become disrespectful and destructive.   At first, they were not going to accommodate us because we had no reservations, but because we were biking, they decided to make up a room for us.  We waited happily on their deck, contemplating the beautiful scenery and drinking glass after glass of water.    We find out that they bought this big building fourteen years ago.  It had been the private hunting lodge of a zillionaire…hence, all the stuffed animals.   They had been running it as a bed and breakfast since then.   It was not inexpensive to stay there, but it was not over-priced, either.  These hosts would never have thought to tell us to return glasses to where we found them.  They were gracious and welcoming.The next morning we visit at length with the other guests, who are here from Spokane to mountain bike and hike in these steep and glorious hills. 

The ride that morning was fantastic.  We felt good; it was beautiful…truly our souls were uplifted.  We sang “How Great Thou Art” at the top of our lungs as we tooled down the highway.   We made our way to Libby, MT where found a cute campspot in the Fireman’s Memorial campground, just a few feet from a great home owned grocery store (with lattes!).  We spent the night talking to a lonely fellow, who made one racist and sexist remark after another (which we gently demurred every time.)  He wouldn’t leave until we got into our tent, despite several hints we had given him.  The last thing he said to us was, “I’m not a racist, but, don’t ask any Indians for directions.  They don’t like the white man and they will tell you wrong.”

The next morning is a slow and glitchy start.  There are problems with Wes’ rack.  I am having trouble with my shorts. My clip breaks and needs a roadside repair.  It is hot and there are numerous big hills to climb.  It is slow going.  We are traveling up the beautiful Kootenai River, then will follow the Koocanusa Reservoir nearly 70 miles, turning off it just before the Canadian border.  According to the maps and signs, there are numerous campgrounds and one restaurant/marina along the way.   We plan to get lunch there, and then camp further up. 

We stow our bikes at the top of the hill, knowing that the marina will be down a steep hill at the lake.  When we walk down, we see that the road is being re-surfaced, and we congratulate ourselves for being so smart to leave our bikes up top.  To get to the restaurant, we must first cut through the campground, which is jam-packed with boats, and trailers, and ATV’s.  The camp spaces are minute.  This place is 10 times more crowded than any neighborhood in Detroit ever thought of being.  We have a perfectly average lunch on the deck and visit with the cook smoking a cigarette during his break.   He tells us that they have added 50 camp spots every year since he started working here.  When the campground is full, there are more than 2000 people packed in there, making it one of the largest towns in northern Montana.  There is constant noise from the road surfacing.  Afterwards, we are joined to by two older ladies, along with their very wet Cocker Spaniel.  They now live in Hope, ID, but were originally from Memphis, Michigan.  We have a pleasant conversation about the Michigan, Arizona (where they formerly lived), and Idaho.  They bemoan the state of the campground, saying it used to be quiet and wonderful, but now it is just too crowded.

We stop by the store and inquire about the camping up the road.  The staff says, “They aren’t really campgrounds, more likely, jis’ places to park.  They don’t even have water.”   This is not good.  It is hot and we will have to be able to replenish our water before tomorrow’s ride.  We inquire about tent sites, find out there is only one.  It is terrible and right next to the construction.  We ask about cabins and find out that they have one of their least expensive cabins available.   We decide to take it.  Of course that means we have to walk up through the road construction, and ride our bikes through the newly laid tar and gravel.  So much for outsmarting the system. 

It is a beautiful location, with a great view of the reservoir, but it is dusty and beat-up from too much ATV use.  The furniture is mostly pretty broken down, and the whole thing is just kind of ragged and worn-out.  I drag our comforter out, go up in the loft and take a nice long nap.  We make numerous cups of tea.  Wes reads our rotten novel and I catch up on the blog.  We will get up early to try to get the next water before the heat of the day. 

We can hardly believe that we have been inside four of the last eight days.   As I ride along, I think about the economics of this situation.   At the Koocanusa Campground, which was full, there were 250 campsites each paying $15 a night.  That’s $3750 maximum gross.   Even at Beaver Lodge, there were 6 cabins each paying $85, plus 30 campsites each paying $20, that’s $1090.   If there are so many customers in these small spaces, why is there no maintenance and so few staff?  Where is the money going?  Why do these customers get so much less for their recreation dollar?  These are the questions I am pondering.