White Bird Battlefield and a Heat Advisory (and more on RV parks and, well, Kansas)
WHITE BIRD: For my first full weekend of the trip, I had wanted to get a couple hikes in. Unfortunately, the previous day’s hike had been snowed out. So Sunday I headed to a hike that could not have been more different: Sunday turned out to be the beginning of a 3-day heat wave.
The White Bird Battlefield is an interpretive trail of a battle between the Nez Perce and the US Cavalry in 1877 (which the US lost badly). I arrived at the trailhead to a sign warning to plan for sun exposure, to bring plenty of water, and to beware of venomous snakes. Check, check, and check:
- I covered myself head to toe in full sun-blocking fabric (not just sunscreen), even to my hands (good choice, in retrospect).
- At the half-way point, I had already used 2/3 of my water.
- As I neared the bottom of the return trail, I came within one footfall of a snake, which thankfully slithered off the trail. I did not see if it was venemous or not because I was busy emitting an unbidden scream that reverberated off the hills all around me. I stood frozen until I felt sure the snake would not slither back onto the trail, and then I had some choice words for the hills as I returned to the van. (I know the trail signs warned me! Doesn’t matter. The scream that escapes me at the sudden sight of a snake or a rat or a mouse is completely uncontrolled. It just happens.)
It was now 1:00 and the heat was still rising. I headed into the town of White Bird and found a burger joint open (it was Sunday in a town of 98 people, so it was definitely not guaranteed that I’d find a place). I soaked up glorious air conditioning, ate a delicious burger, and headed to my latest parkup.
This new RV park wasn’t going to be like the one in McCall. The sites seemed to be almost on top of each other. If I had pulled into my site facing forward, as the manager first suggested, I would have been door-to-door with my neighbor; we could have sat at our respective breakfast tables in our respective rigs and held a conversation at normal volume. I decided to back in so that my sliding door was facing the non-door side of my other neighbor. (I read that now and think it sounds like I was being rude. But I thought I was being polite by giving both of us a bit more privacy. Do I dare say the quintessential social media thing: Leave your comments below??)
Behind our row of rigs was a grassy area and a single picnic table to share. Which we did, and it was lovely to have the companionship. There was also a large gazebo near the river with a firepit where residents could gather, and there were steps down to the river, which has a VERY strong current and is not for swimming. It does offer ankle-deep wading, which is all one needs given that the water is FREEZING.
HEAT ADVISORY: Over the next three days, it was fortuitous to be near a freezing river, as temperatures reached a high of 99 and a heat advisory was issued. I don’t have a separate AC unit for the living area of the van, but I had made a last-minute purchase of a portable air conditioner that I had not yet tested. This was my opportunity. I had read that it was unlikely to cool the ambient temperature even of a small space but that I could point a blast of 60-degree air directly at my face. So that is what I did. For 3 days. While working from my metal box. Plus putting on my bathing suit and making regular visits to the shore of the freezing Salmon River.
RV PARKS, REVISITED: The evenings did cool down nicely, though. And because all the RVs are parked up so very closely and the park has created some lovely shared spaces, I enjoyed visiting with the staff and other travelers, swapping stories, enjoying cocktails, and feeling less alone. I did not see American flags on large flag poles (like at the McCall RV park), but I did chat with people of varying political stripes. And it was all lovely.
NEXT LEG OF THE JOURNEY: By the end of the work week, I had wanted to be positioned near the beginning of Hwy 12 that goes through the Nez Perce Clearwater National Forest. At home writing my itinerary, it seemed like a reasonable idea to snag a first-come, first-served campground that weekend, as there were quite a few such sites along Hwy 12. It only later dawned on me that this is 4th of July weekend! How was I going to get a last-minute campsite over 4th of July weekend? So early on the 1st, I left my latest parkup in Kamiah (pronounced, as I found out, Kam-ee-eye), on the Nez Perce Reservation and turned eastward on Hwy 12: A sign as you turn onto 12 shows that curvy arrow and “next 99 miles.”
I ended up at Wilderness Gateway Campground, on the wild and scenic Lochsa River. As I write this, I have absolutely no cell service, but I am enjoying reading, writing, hiking, lounging in my hammock, listening to a thunder storm that just rolled through, and cooking over my campfire. The rushing river is so loud that it drowns out everything except the even louder chirping of birds. It is spectacular. More on that next time.
SIDE NOTE: On Thursday, 6/30, which was my “fake Friday” since I had the 1st off, I packed up my computer and stored my large monitor in its weekend location and drove into town. Yelp had told me I would find good food and drink at a local establishment next to the casino. And I did. I enjoyed chatting with the young female bartender who shared information about the area, and I appreciated that the older, long-bearded, drunk men at the bar did not sit any closer than one empty bar seat on either side of me. However, ultimately I joined a long-haul trucker at the pool table. He had missed by only 20 minutes the cutoff time to get his cargo loaded, so he was stuck in town until the next day. After the game, we returned to the bar and chatted more, which led to conversation of the pandemic, and masks, and vaccines, and then all the many ways the government is trying to control our lives!!! Ack!!! And as we discussed how the government is infringing on our freedom and our right to make choices about our own health and bodies, I did have to – no, I really did HAVE to – ask about abortion. Why was that different? (Is there an emoji that says bl@t#$wt&*f$@#$%ck?) Well, somehow it remained amiable, despite the several beers I had drunk. But when his kids back home called, he stepped outside to take the call and I paid my bill and left.
I am not in the Bay Area anymore, Todo. I am in (the political equivalent of) Kansas.
You are an amazing spirit! (Others might say crazy, but I am sitting in a comfortable chair and just admiring you from afar.)
Hilda
I’m curious—what sorts of people are you meeting at the RV parks? Is it retirees, other remote workers/van lifers like you, hippie wanderers, other?
Mostly retirees. Haven’t really met many of the latter categories, but they likely avoid RV parks, which can be expensive.