The cities in the Pacific Northwest region have names that I just cannot say unless I pay attention. Coir D’Alene, Missoula, and Kalispell do not just roll off the tongue. To make it even more complicated according to Erica, the locals say “Boi’C not Boise.” Truthfully, I just made up names for all these places and everyone just went along with it.
Grant, Erica, and I left from Santa Ana midday on a Friday en route for Spokane, Washington. Fortunately for me, you pronounce Spokane as…Spokane. And this is where my correct pronunciations ended.
Our flight was an hour late, but we made it into the city without any major hiccups. Grant wanted to stay at the Davenport Towers, which is one of if not the fanciest hotels in Spokane. There was a fun “Safari” theme to the hotel lobby and rooms so I was not mad at all. After snapping a few photos in the lobby we proceeded to walk around the downtown area toward the riverfront. For a Friday night, it was dead. There was hardly any movement, which gave the area an eerie lifeless vibe. Eventually, Grant spotted a restaurant inside River Park Square. The restaurant perched on the third floor of this mall was called Twigs Bistro and Martini Bar.
We had the whole restaurant to ourselves. The restaurant was closing in an hour so we were able to walk right in and be one of two tables. The drinks were great, but the standout dish of the meal was an appetizer—Moroccan Spiced Beef with Gorgonzola fondue. A weird combination, but it worked! Leaving no room for dessert, we paid and exited the now-closed mall. The mall butted up right against the Riverfront so we walked over to that area to figure out if we could see anything. After a quick walk around the area, we set course for the hotel and for the comfortable beds that awaited us.
Spokane is the home of Gonzaga University and is a big basketball city. Outside of that there wasn’t much known amongst us. This made it a perfect exploring destination. The weather was poor as there were many fires all around us, but we endured poor air quality. The next morning I woke early eager to explore. Erica joined in the exploration, while Grant rested in bed. The architecture of this area was extremely well preserved and Erica commented that some of it even reminded her of buildings she would see in Europe. The highlight of the walk was of course witnessing the majestic upper and lower falls that flowed through this area. After snapping a few photos, we were leaving the area when the visitor center appeared. After a quick conversation with a local guide, we realized that we had missed the quirky trash-eating goat and the world's largest red flyer wagon.
During the expo for which the waterfront was beautified, a nun, who specialized in metal work, crafted a goat that would “eat” garbage. The goat was used as a visual for children to learn the concept of recycling. Today that goat is still operational and sucked up a few pieces of our trash.
As we walked back from our nearly two-hour morning hike, Grant was just waking up. He quickly got dressed and we grabbed the car to show him the highlights. A quick detour to the Spokane Farmer’s Market for a quick biscuit and gravy snack and then we hit the road for Cour’D’Arlene. The first city that I have no idea how to say. It’s evidently French or Native American for how feisty of traders the groups in this region were.
After a quick drive (less than an hour), we were in this beautiful Idaho city. The waterfront in this city was much more useable than the last as we saw families splashing and swimming in the water. The Main Street that runs through this area was littered with gift shops and restaurants. The entire area was very well manicured and screamed family friendly.
We stopped at a restaurant called Honey and ordered some grub. It was also the first time I had huckleberry lemonade. If you are in the Pacific Northwest region of the United States and want food then you may struggle to find something that doesn’t have huckleberry in it. From the drinks, to the milkshakes, to the candy, to the sauces— everything has huckleberry. I had never had it before so I loved it. My stomach was not as big of a fan as I was, but more about that to come.
We finished lunch and hit the road for our next adventure, which was Silver Mountain Resort in Kellogg, Idaho. This ski resort turned mountain bikers paradise was home to the longest gondola ride in all of North America. Sold! We boarded the 25-minute gondola ride, passed over the below town, and then made our way up to the top to find… nothing. Trees and beautiful landscaping, but nothing earth-shattering. There was one additional ski lift running so we boarded that and just went around the area. Grant played with the bounce house and lassos, and then we went back down.
The area was quite expensive for hotels, but Grant was able to find a 2-bedroom apartment for rent that housed everyone. We checked in and dropped off all of our stuff. The area was a bit dormant because it was off-season, but even in peak season, it may not have been that popular. We were recommended to check out Wallace, Idaho a few miles up, and did just that.
There we found a much livelier old mining town that had a few restaurants and shops open to stroll through. I think to everyone the main attraction was the “Center of the Universe” manhole. The story goes something like this… a couple of buddies were in a bar and came up with the idea to say that Wallace, Idaho was the center of the universe. It stuck. The idea was that since no one could prove it untrue that it must be true. That is some circular logic! Idaho is not one to shy away from making bold claims. Best Huckleberry Shake! Best Burger! Best…whatever you are trying to sell. There isn’t much competition in the area for these things so it’s not really “best,” but rather “only!”
A local told us the best pizza was at the Fainting Goat. Erica and Grant were supposed to go and put our name on the waitlist as I waited for my huckleberry shake, but instead snapped photos of themselves at the Center of the Universe manhole. This blunder turned caused us to have a 40-minute wait. Hungry and impatient, we were hungry and excited. The food was a dud. The $20 pizza tasted like cardboard and everything else was store-bought. Desert was a non-starter so we quickly left for the apartment. We stopped at the grocery store in town and picked up some cheese, salami, and crackers courtesy of Erica. I am not sure if it was lunch, the huckleberry, or the dinner, but my stomach said “nope, not having it.” For the rest of the car ride home and quite possibly that entire evening everyone was smelling rotten eggs. Although, not all of the noxious smells were because of me!
With all the walking the day before, everyone was tired so they slept in. I have developed the “dad clock” where I wake up around 6:30 am every morning even on vacations. Wide awake and not getting any company, I drove a smidge past the Idaho border into Montana. Not much at the border and they lied about having fresh jerky, cherries, and huckleberries. Having lost the cell phone signal and it getting later, I turned around. Erica and Grant did not miss anything by sleeping in.
Eventually, the sleeping princesses got up and joined me for the day. The main attraction today was Quinn Hot Springs in Paradise, which is right before Missoula, Montana. I mapped out a few stops along the way and as it turned out— those were the only stops along the way. Signs were everywhere highlighting the largest gift shop in all of Montana— the 50,000 Silver Dollar Bar.
As we walked inside, it was notably different than other shops we had been to. The size was there, and the silver dollars were there, but it was the supply of knives and weapons laying on the counter that caught Grant's attention. He commented, “You know how you think you are going to die in Florida? I think I am going to die here in Montana!” For some reason, it didn’t bother me, but I could see how having a spiked club, axes, and samurai sword just lying around could be a bit frightening. I know where to go if there is a zombie apocalypse!
We left empty-handed and continued down the road to the Best Huckleberry Milkshake at the St, Regis Gift Shop which also doubles as a free trout aquarium. This shop was far less scary. They traded the weapons for ice cream, and we picked up a shake as well as a few souvenirs.
The path we were taking would have taken us to Kalispell and Glacier, but we, unfortunately, did not have enough time to make it up. I did demand that we stop along the way so I could put my feet in the water because it was too pretty to pass up. Grant pulled over and let me do my thing. As we pulled over, Erica’s wallet fell out of the car. Thankfully, Grant saw a wallet and thought he would be kind and mail it back. It turned out to be Erica’s so the delivery was much faster. Relieved, we darted down the single-lane road until we made it to Quinn’s Hot Springs.
A good soak in these naturally fed hot springs sounded like an excellent way to rest our weary bones after our walk-heavy exploration. Grant and Erica socialized with other patrons, while I found a quiet corner to float and then sit out. Fast forward three hours and it was time for dinner. The hot springs had a charming ranch-style restaurant that had high-end food specializing in game meat. I ordered the bison and Grant/Erica for the meatloaf, a mixture of a whole bunch of animals. Everything was tasty and a nice way of ending a successful trip.
Grant drove the entire way back to the apartment in Idaho having to keep a close watch for animals that seemed tempted to dart out in front of our car. After sipping on the leftover champagne, snacking on the leftover meat and cheese, and watching a silly western TV show — we turned in for an early morning drive to the airport in Spokane.
By 7 am, we were out of the apartment and on the road back to Spokane. After a side trip to check out Gonzaga University, we made it to the car rental return center in one piece. The Spokane airport is small, and their TSA was horrendous. One person was checking ids and there was only one bag screening line. Fortunately, we all have TSA pre-check so we at least had the VIP express line to deal with. The plane arrived, and we boarded, but it was a smidge late in taking off due to the lines.
Another successful trip in the books. I think I am most excited to be home to cities that I can pronounce — Santa Ana, San Diego, and La Mesa!