Squalls and Sandwiches

 

How could a winter month seem like two months at a time?

No answer for that question, but in my mind, February has seemed a bit like January because of its many relatively uneventful, blah days.  

Yesterday the month seemed more like March with a potpourri of weather, including brilliant sunshine sometimes accented by snow-globe flakes, brisk winds, and some wild snowy squalls. 

After enjoying a morning of mostly sunshine around home, Bill and I hit the "perfect storm" when we pulled into the Clark Fork drift yard, hoping for some leisurely walking and sightseeing. 

Well, we walked but not in a leisurely fashion, and the sights we expected to see turned out to be much different than anticipated, many blocked out by fast moving and low hanging clouds and fog. 

The drift yard in between Hope and Clark Fork has become one of my favorite places to visit, to stroll around or to launch a kayak. 

The overall view of the drift yard off from HWY 200 at first seems a bit mediocre with scattered remnants of wood deposited in disarray here and there.  

 Nevertheless, the spot is surrounded with the magnificence of the Green Monarchs to the south, views of the Cabinet Mountains to the north and the Selkirk Mountains across the lake to the West. 

Leaving the vehicle and walking transforms that first impression into one of complete and continuous awe. 

Waterways lead to the Clark Fork Delta and into massive and beautiful main channel of Lake Pend Oreille. 

Of late, the place has become a favorite spot for recreationalists traveling in motorhomes or pulling travel trailers, planning to use their generators for power and to do some dry camping. 

Yesterday's visit turned out to be wild and blustery but also advantageous for some different kinds of pictures from the usual captures at the spot. 

I loved the strong wind because it blew the abundant and thick amber grass to an almost horizontal angle.  

Though fast-blowing snowflakes often cut at my face and eyes and eventually deposited a layer of white on my turquoise jacket, I loved the drama the flurries created in what is often a very serene area. 

Our walk through the short-lived but intense squall provided some pleasant imagining of this same place in the summertime. I thought about the relaxing and awe-inspiring kayak trips we took on pleasant evenings last summer and how nice it will be when the ice and snow are gone.  

Our reward for this outing involved another step back into normalcy as we drove to the popular Pantry in rainy, foggy Clark Fork and ordered our dinner:  sandwiches made of fresh-baked bread (Bill's sourdough; mine, rye) and all those tasty ingredients of ham, cheese, pickles, lettuce, etc. 

We also each picked out a giant cookie for dessert.  While in The Pantry, I spotted my old friend Bob Kennedy (his family is known for the barges on Lake Pend Oreille). 

Bob and I attended the University of Idaho at the same time, and he was always generous about giving me rides home to Sandpoint, even letting me drive his car on one trip. 

Most of my Bob sightings over the past few years have occurred in establishments like The Pantry where he enjoys his coffee and conversations with friends. 

Though mask wearing is not a big thing among the clientele (I think Bill and I were the only mask-wearing customers at the time), we felt fairly safe during our brief visit and happy to see the sandwich maker wearing a mask. 

Those sandwiches with a few chips on the side tasted mighty good once we had driven home through calm weather and even a little sunshine. 

Yup, twas a day a lot like March, which isn't far off.

Happy Wednesday.  Hope you enjoy the drift yard storm.  

We kayak in this channel in the summertime!