Idaho, you-da-hoe.

The title of this post has absolutely nothing to do with its contents. In fact, it's not even that funny, and I know it. I mean, Fraticelli and all of my copywriters wouldn't even entertain the notion of this title.

Ahhh, how very pleasurable.

As we pulled away from Vancouver (windshield wipers on, of course) I was excited about embarking on our northwest American adventure - another first for me. Once we hit Interstate 90 the weather become storybook. Contrary to Yasi's recollection of the trip, I even did a bit of driving that day. Thank god for cruise control and a desolate highway.

Around late afternoon we figured we could get to Coeur d'Alene, just passed the Washington border in the northern panhandle of Idaho. Apparently, French Canadian fur traders gave the local Indian tribe the name, which directly translated means "heart of the awl". In layman’s terms, they were tough negotiators.

We decided to stop off in Spokane to grab some groceries and stumbled into this great natural grocery store, Mother's Cupboard. After borrowing a salt shaker and some pepper, as well as cutlery from the food court we picked up some very fresh salmon, greens, apricots and potatoes (naturally). All we needed was some firewood and we were good to go. Unfortunately, they didn’t sell any. Or that’s what Bob, the tiny, bearded man with thick black frames told me as he was shelving the new milk inventory. About 5 minutes later as we were about to check out Bob flagged us down. He said, “Ya know, this might sound a bit strange, but I live three blocks up from here and you're welcome to as much of the wood in my shed as you would like”. We looked at each other for a second, shrugged our shoulders and said, "why not." We jotted some directions down and sure enough when we got there the shed was unlocked, full of dry wood, and nobody named Billy Bob with a jack-o-lantern smile waiting for us. We wrote him a nice note about karma, left it in the shed and shoved off.

When we got to our campsite in Coeur d’Alene we set up camp right as night fell and started a fire. I am proud to say that not only was I able to start the fire with just one match, I burned an Ed Hardy ad in the process. I don’t know if it was that, the gifted wood or the feeling that the trip was in full swing but the fish tasted divine. I remember thinking to myself, I’m pretty sure this is what our adventure is all about.

Bearded Bob, in all his milk stocking glory.

Bob L. Wood's shed.

Dusk at our campsite in Coeur d'Alene

Burn Ed Hardy, burn!!!

{insert chest thumping here}