September, Sun, Sunny Friends and Plenty of Wildlife on the Trail of the Coeur d'Alene

You're Too Old to Spend the Rest of Your Life on the Couch: Let's Adventure!

A bike ride doesn’t get much better then this

What’s not perfect about Northern Idaho in late September?

Dear Reader: This is the last installment of my stories from the Road Scholar bike trip in North Idaho in late September. If this might be on your radar, consider booking now. There’s a host of reasons these trips book fast.

By the fourth day of the Road Scholar Trail of the Coeur d’Alenes bike tour, I was in love.

Not, sadly, with a new beau, but the area, the weather, the views, the terrific company. Oh, and the fact that I hadn’t used either of the white “bonk” vans because some part of me gave out. That was a real worry, and it needn’t have been.

Like many of us who haven’t ridden a bike for years, in my case eleven, I wasn’t at all certain I’d be up for the challenge. I was hardly alone. The first night, a few had shared that they weren’t sure they could keep up.

But for a sore rear end for two days, that was wasted concern.

Like other seventy-plussers, cycling came right back, even though my feet and hands weren’t as cooperative as I might have liked. That aside, my balance was steady once I had launched; my legs and lungs were up for the trip.

For that matter, so were everyone else’s.

If we had a worry, frankly, it was that the trip sped by far too quickly: Great company, heartbreaking scenery, terrific guides from Oregon River Experiences and plenty to do or not do during off time.

Like most everyone else on this trip, what few strands of my hair blow in the wind are pretty white these days. That said, grey hair and wrinkles don’t dictate how much fun we have or how hard we can play outdoors.

Perhaps that’s the secret sauce of the Road Scholar trips. Issues about aging are shunted aside for the sheer joy of being in Nature, exercising and staying away from screen time (these days that’s more like scream time).

For those of us who aren’t regular cyclists, though, the easy pacing, rare hills and measured days allowed us to experiment with our bodies and rediscover our love of cycling.

Each day built on the next, so that by the time we were cycling out on the flat between low, wet marshes and sun-dappled waterways the last two days, we all felt like seasoned pros.

I wasn’t, of course, but I felt like one. And that’s the whole point. You feel like one.

Fisher, on the right, brings up the rear

You go your pace, make it as fast or slow as you like, and soak yourself in the glory of autumn and clean, crisp air.

The highlights of the last two days were long, flat rides through soft-focused forests, where the guides and all of us were on the lookout for moose.

Derek started us off with an excellent early-morning discussion about how fire affects the landscape, including its essential role in reforestation.

Then we pushed off for more days of mostly-flat pedaling through God’s country.

Having Derek along is perfect for people who love biology and wildlife. His keen eye could pick out a twitching moose ear in the brush. While we didn’t get the perfect photos of the behemoth he found, at least we spotted one.

We also spotted an osprey family’s nest perched atop a long, gradual bridge, above, off which we could photograph cormorants and other wildlife in the bright morning sun.

Cormorants hang out on a tree

Those who preferred an even pace either stuck with that pace or dropped back further so that they could spend time with Fisher or Derek. Our sweepers were only too happy to discuss wildlife, where we were most likely to spot animals and birds and slow down as much as necessary to allow plenty of photography.

One stop that Fisher and I made was a wetlands full of red-winged blackbirds.

If you grew up with red-winged blackbirds, their joyful sound is not only unmistakable, it also brings you right back to your childhood.

There, in a broad swath of wetlands, were hundreds of them, grasping the reeds and warbling away. Here’s what that sounded like:

It’s better if you’re there.

Then I spotted a muskrat swimming towards the weeds. You see a lot more when you slow down or stop.

From there until day’s end, we split wetlands and forested spaces, always looking for movement.

By the end of our trip on the fourth day, those of us who had chosen to ride all day had finished just over twenty-six miles.

But that wasn’t all. the fourth day’s evening had all kinds of options available, including a variety of museums in Wallace and an optional Silver Mine Tour.

Along with three others and Fisher as our guide, I opted to hike the Pulaski Trail.

For those unfamiliar with Ed Pulaski, he was a bona fide hero not only to the miners and people of Wallace during the terrible fires of 1910, but also because his considerable knowledge and understanding of the woods around Wallace allowed him to save lives.

The four-mile hike, rising about 700 feet, offers the casual walker a chance to put on the afterburners for a workout, or stroll next to the waterfalls. some which helped save lives that fateful year.

Waterfall along the Pulaski Trail

Along the path are regular stops which tell the history of the fires, of Pulaski’s bravery and the devastation, now nearly invisible. The dense forest, soft ferns and thick tree cover took one hundred years to regenerate, but is even more susceptible to forest fire today.

Our final day on the trail came way too soon.

We’d be retracing some of our early ride this last day as we would end up back in Kellogg to return our bikes. Once again, the trailer dropped us off where we’d have the best chance to spot grazing moose, graceful herons and hunting ospreys.

We pushed off into the bright sunshine for one more day-this time, a total of some 35.4 miles if we did the longer version of the day ( a reminder, all riding days offered options of length of your ride).

The scenery on Day Five: a quick stop to soak it in

We visited the Cataldo Mission at lunch, after which we also visited a very famous, once-very bawdy brothel, the Snake Pit. It’s now, of course, a bar and restaurant.

Cataldo Mission church, the oldest building in Idaho

Fisher, who had been our sweeper that morning, took a nap:

His morning starts early and his day ends late. Well-deserved.

Fisher took the lead and those of us who remained for the final ride into Kellogg. We mounted our bikes and slipped off into the Idaho sunshine. A few final hours to celebrate this magnificent trip, our final eleven miles of winding trail, soft hills and clean mountain air.

I can’t speak for anyone else, but it was with a mixture of exhilaration and deep sadness that I picked up the pace to stay with Fisher the final miles. I’d reacquainted myself with my inner cyclist, found it prepared for the tasks ahead, and had immersed myself in the joy of cycling for the first time in nearly a dozen years.

Others had, too. Watching each of us slide into home, in this case the Kellogg bike shop where we’d begun our adventure just a few days ago, I saw satisfaction, pride, joy and more than a few well-earned beads of sweat.

After releasing our bikes to the shop for cleanup, we walked over to The Beanery to join the rest of our group for ice cream, treats, tall tales and camaraderie.

Mary, left, holds court

That night, the guides collected photos from each of us and presented the collage while everyone had a make-your-own pasta dinner. Fisher and Derek provided the guitar and singing talents while the rest of us replayed the best parts of the trip, exchanged contact information and slowly prepared to let go of the experience.

Is this trip for you?

I have no idea. If you can pedal a bike, you can do this.

If you might need a week away from a world that seems all-consuming to be in the cocoon of Nature, you might want to do this.

What I do know is that all of us deserve an adventure which we can mold to our own ability, one that immerses us in the gorgeousness of the American Northwest forests, throws us in with interesting and engaging people, expands our friendships and allows us to remember and engage our inner athlete.

Maybe it’s time to put this trip on your Christmas list for next autumn.

Let’s play.

Just before we started, our final day

For those of you interested, cyclists like these, along with all the other outfitters who bring folks to the Trail of the Coeur d’Alene and Northern Idaho’s magnificent trail system, contribute some $9.5 m to the local economy, according to Rick Shaffer, the self-appointed Prime Minister of Wallace, the Center of the Known Universe. All kidding aside, we cyclists are serious business, and we are very welcomed.

As always, thanks for reading this series. If you missed them, there are three others which discuss this trip which ran in September. I hope you consider doing something like this, and soon.

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