The drive was long and beautiful. If I ever make it back there again, I need to buy this...
Hours later, I found the longest train I will probably ever see.
For days, I had been eyeing these bales of hay on the side of the road and saying to myself, "These are going to make for a great picture." So eventually, you just pull over, get out of the car, and take some shots. And it turns out they don't make for great pictures. They make for boring pictures of hay. But at least I know that now. I'm learning so much out here.
Occasionally as I drive, I'll find a sign for some random monument, town, or god knows what else. Sometimes I ignore them, sometimes I go after them, can't find them and move on, and other times, I find places like Wallace, ID.
The town of Wallace - it belongs in a snowglobe. Without the snow. I wandered through quiet streets lined with mom and pop ice cream stores and antique shops. Upon reflection, I don't think there was a single retail location that offered anything other than that. I later find out that the town doesn't allow any chains or franchises to open shop here. Eventually I make my way to a once-gasoline-station-and-garage-and-now-ice-cream-parlor-and-cafe. As I'm inspecting, Jamie Baker (the man featured below, sporting boots, shorts, and an unfogettable gap toothed smile and bubbly personality) shows up on his four wheeler, loaded with several gallons of ice cream. I strike up conversation and find out that he moved here from Spokane with his wife years ago. They bought their first house in '92 for $4,000. He has since purchased several other properties - they restore them and rent them out - all historic. They purchased the gas station across the street and are working on that these days. Very friendly type who, even though working, made time to talk to me. he sat on the bench while holding two vats of ice cream. I had Huckleberry ice cream and, don't tell anyone in MT or WA, but it tastes just like black raspberry.
All good things must come to an end, and so did my time in Wallace. With a dripping ice cream cone in hand, I headed towards Spokane. Frustrated as to where to go upon arriving, I went to Auntie's bookstore, bought Adam Smith's "A Theory On Moral Sentiments" and the girl behind the counter gave more advice than I could handle on recommendations for a bite to eat and a glass of beer. I checked out some of the recommendations but it was still only 5pm on a Thursday and so the places were empty. And I hate sitting in an empty restaurant alone pretending to mind that I'm sitting in an empty restaurant alone. After checking a couple places out, (one of the places had a KISS cover band pantomiming unplugged instruments while KISS records blared through the speakers, all while a drunk softball team pretended Gene Simmons was actually there licking the air as Ace Frehley played a solo I'll never really care about).
I noticed the World's Fair sculpture and wandered into the park and towards the pavilion. On my way there, I passed a small group of guys slacklining (read: tight rope walking). I first walked by, but then came around and started asking them about it. Before long, I was on the line and we were all hanging out, joking around, and having a good ol' time. John, Tyler, and Kiel were all between 18-21. We ended up there for a few hours before going down to the river where the local power plant is.
But things didn't really start getting out of control until we were in Kiel's truck. It was explained to me that he knew several backroads where he could get his truck off the ground. So we spent the next 20 minutes bombing down random streets of Spokane, trying to reenact any Steve McQueen movie you've seen. I felt like the troublemaking kid I never took the time to be. Eventually we went back to slacklining where Tyler proceeded to attempt backflips while holding onto a cigarette in his mouth.
Things took a turn for the weird when, in the midst of slacklining in the Pavillion, a gay couple walked by us in the park. Kiel gets Tyler's attention with a whisphered, "Hey! Look at this sh-t!" He then turned to me and said, "I've never seen that before. Two guys... coupled together like that. It's like seeing a f-cking unicorn. And on top of that, it's just not safe. They're lucky they're noting getting attacked right now."
I said, "that's got to be tough" and they both looked at me, inquiring, "What do you mean?" I said, "Being gay in an area where it is so uncommon and not accepted has got to be tough for them..." They continued to stare at me. So I added, "assuming you believe it's something you're born with and not simply a choice." And while they didn't directly say it, they very clearly hinted at believing in the latter. When I said "You guys should visit New York. Gay couples are about as common as straight couples there" they simultaneously agreed aloud that they'd rather stay here in that case.
When 12:30am hit, I decided it was time to call it a night. I thanked the gang for schooling me on slacklining, took a quick photo of them, and headed back to my car. Only when I got there, it was gone.
All I could recall was Kiel's stories about the Russian mobs stealing cars all around the city. In a total panic, I called the cops to report a stolen vehicle. They said they would dispatch someone as soon as possible. I let them know that wasn't soon enough, as it was 12:30 in the am, and that I had nothing but a cell phone and a book, and nowhere to go. "Just sit put sir. I don't know what else to tell you."
Maybe I started to cry in a bit of a panic. Maybe I freaked out, trying to think of what I could possibly do besides, well... freak out. That's when I turned to my left and saw, no more than 15 feet away, my car. I had looked in the wrong spot.
Soooo, I called the cops back, told them a very apologetic story about how my friends took my keys and moved my car on me, and that everything was all set. I hung up, crawled into my car, and had one of the best nights of sleep yet.
(Kiel, who was the brains of the group, Facebooked me within 12 hours and added me to his "musical interest" portion of his page. Awww, what a sweetheart. I hope he's not reading this now.)
New York Parking Prices
Site of the '74 Spokane World Fair
The crew
