I don't know if an unknown island far from civilization is the answer, but this weekend in Sandpoint is definitely a good time for getting lost. Some folks, a lot of them, in fact, follow the expected trends. They go to town to join all the others who are doing exactly the same thing----admiring beautifully restored classic cars and a few dirt-bag clunkers, eating fresh-grilled German sausages, drinking a little beer, doing some dancing and a lot of visiting.
It's "Lost in the '50s" weekend, and the crowds will be millin' from late this afternoon until well after dark on Saturday night. These days, in Sandpoint, not even the Fourth of July seems to bring in the numbers who turn out to spend the weekend here for Carolyn Gleason and gang's annual springtime downtown reunion. The big unifier of humanity starts tonight with the parade when the classic rigs (I've been told 30 years makes a classic) rev their engines and cruise around town at least two or three times apiece. Maybe we ought to enter our motor home.
I rode my bike to town for the parade last year and stood with Rose Marie, Jim and Shirley on the corner of First and Cedar right across from the "old" Coldwater Creek retail store. I call it the "old" one cuz the new one in the middle of First Avenue is supposed to open in the next few days. Rumor has it that the Cedar Street Bridge, which has housed Coldwater Creek retail for the past several years may go back to its original intent----a bridge market featuring a variety of stores. That's yet to be seen, but like anything in Sandpoint, it will be interesting to see what transpires.
Anyway, that parade last year was kinda fun, especially if you're in to people watching and people greeting. "Lost in the '50s" offers a sumptuous smorgasboard of both, but look out if you're trying to eat at a downtown restaurant. The only other problem I ever encounter is the multitasking of talking to three groups of people at the same time. It just wears me out. I love to see all these folks, but I find it hard to carry on a decent conversation, when in mid-sentence, someone taps me on the back to say hello. At this age, that much of a distraction can turn my brain into instant mush.
Bill and I may take in some of the stuff associated with the weekend, but we'll probably do our best to just get lost and go to the hinterlands until all the craziness dies down. That's looking pretty likely too cuz Laura, Sefo and the triplets are coming with their bikes. She's put in a request to go to the bird refuge at Bonners Ferry. And since I'm, for once, not up to my ears in things to do, I'm probably going to honor her request. I told her we just had to make sure we're back in time to watch the Preakness tomorrow.
I know one place we'll probably not go to get lost. That's up to Schweitzer where mountains of mud are sliding off the hillside on these hot sunny days and taking condos for a ride. I read in the paper this morning that the folks in the know up there are concerned. They think that more mud slides caused by extreme hot weather, fast melting snow and construction excavation could take out a couple of other condos besides the Red Cricket, which introduced the word "condo" to us locals back in the mid-'60s.
I'll let them worry about that. For now, I'd better quit writing and get a few things done before losing myself for the next few days. Hope everyone finds the perfect getaway this weekend, even if it is in the midst of hundreds of chatty people.