We'd thought about the best route to take there. Though Vancouver is roughly the same distance from Coeur d'Alene as Portland, it's not the same 6-hour drive because we have the extra hurdle of a border crossing, and we don't have routes that are as direct due to the difference in terrain. Margo and I decided to take the southern route - 99/I-5 to I-90 - on the way out, and take the northern route - Hwys 3 and 1 - on the return. We expected the Peace Arch crossing at I-5 to be a big risk, as we've endured waits of many hours previously, so we decided to risk this only on the outbound journey, since our return would put us right at the end of a busy holiday weekend.
So we got ourselves up at 3am Friday and were on the road within 45 minutes. The border crossing, about an hour later, was very quick, waiting for just one car before us. We saw dawn break somewhere in Whatcom County. We bypassed Seattle via 405 and mostly missed the morning commute. We got breakfast in Issaquah. Switching drivers, I piloted us over the Cascade pass and across the desert to Spokane and Coeur d'Alene, arriving just before lunch.
The rest of our Friday was spent visiting, snacking, a dinner of bratwurst (and a burger for picky Sarah), a lemon pie dessert, and a movie. We slept well that evening.
Our Saturday was a lazy one. There was a big breakfast of bacon and eggs. Then lots of lounging. Sarah discovered and conquered the Wii Sports videogames, especially enjoying baseball. Pool was played. Naps were taken. A fine dinner of beef and veg was served. Sleep was good.
We rose early on Sunday as Sarah had voted to go fishing. We wanted to beat the weekend crowding at the boat launches so we arose as planned around 6, then towed the boat to a ramp on the lake and put in.
Dad piloted us to the opposite shore and we switched to a trolling motor. Two lines were cast off the back. Sarah and Margo helped watch them for signs of a fish.
We quickly caught a little one. It seems all the fish are little ones; the big ones have been harvested so the lake is restocked with smaller ones.
Another one followed, but soon the depth finder displayed fewer fish, so we turned around and tracked back to a GPS marker Dad had made earlier. We got one more, but after more fruitless time in the sun, we decided to switch recreational gears.
We untethered the raft we'd brought. Sarah was hesitant to get into the cold water so instead I got a first chance to be towed. Margo lost the sun hat she'd been wearing so I retrieved it when it floated past, giving me a handsome new look.
Since I couldn't do much more than hang on, I signaled for a stop and we gave Sarah a turn. She was uncertain at first but ultimately took to it, getting pretty playful.
By late morning, we'd all had enough sun to tire us so we braved the crowded boat launch, hitched up, and returned.
There was another afternoon of napping and loafing, with a dinner of breaded parmesan chicken breast and a red chocolate cake for dessert. Later we gathered on the deck for some photos.
We got up early Monday for our return, as we knew the northern route would be at least two hours longer: the route is often just a single lane and winds through mountainous terrain. So after coffee and farewells, we were off.
At Spokane we turned north, traversing many miles of suburbia before hitting the open road. We got a quick fast food breakfast in a smaller town, then carried on towards the border crossing. The last dozens of miles were very pleasant: we crossed the Columbia, and after a while there was no traffic before or behind me and I could drive at my own pace through nice woodlands. The border crossing was quick this time also, with no wait.
We saw some stunning scenery on the return. Margo and I have lived in the Northwest most of our adult lives but hadn't seen scenery quite like this. The wineries and farms around Osoyoos, with lush valleys deep within high ranges of scrub, reminded us a bit of Italy.
Later, driving between massive, steep mountains evoked the fjords of Norway.
And even later, looking for horned sheep on the rocky cliffs above us, we remembered Wales.
As we headed West, the holiday traffic grew around us, and the drive lost some of its allure as I found myself paying more attention to the vehicle in front of me on the windy mountain roads and less and less to the scenery.
We'd brought a bag of CDs and had many singable tunes: Abba, The Cars, The Beatles, The Police. A few bars into a song by The Zombies, we changed the lyrics for Sarah:
And if she should ask you for some ice cream,
Or if she should ask to use the PlayStation ...
TELL HER NO! NO! NO! NO! NO-NO, NO-NO, NO! ...
Later k.d. lang sang about how she'd change my heart into a single track mind. I wondered aloud just what that procedure would look like, and whether it would be covered by insurance. Margo turned up the volume so that further wonderings could not be so easily heard.
This happened several more times during our trip.
The view grew hazier as we drove closer to Kelowna in the north, where wildfires raged. At one point we saw multiple helicopters nearby, positioning themselves at a nearby creek to load water canisters.
Traffic reached a crescendo as we reached the eastern edge of the Lower Mainland, resulting in almost stop-and-go traffic for about a dozen kilometers. But it spread out nicely as we got into the valley and returning travellers exited to their neighbourhoods. We returned about twelve hours after we'd set off, and not too badly worse for wear.
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