07.05.2023 - tekoa

we left the hotel in ritzville early, as usual.  we did have a decent hotel breakfast first.

and good that we did, it was a couple of hours later that we rolled into sprague, another interstate exit.  we had opted for this route, slightly out of our way, in order to shorten the distance between available water.  but any hopes we had of finding breakfast were quickly smashed.  the only thing open was a sparsely stocked grocery store.  dan could not get any fruit, i did get toothpaste, they said there wasn't a toilet (even for customers)

i've never really understood the slogan, "make america great again."  aren't we still great?  is there really any other place more developed or prosperous than the u.s., other than, perhaps, some of northern europe? and isn't it actually unamerican to imply we aren't the greatest, the best? love it or leave it, right.

it was here in sprague that it made sense. here in america's bread basket, here in the heartland.  (well, ok, we're actually in the northwest).   if you lived here, where the few buildings 'downtown' were abandoned, where there was no industry, no jobs, and most everyone you saw was under educated, poorly fed and badly medicated.  if you lived here, your picture would be of an america collapsed.  oh, there is someone making money on these farms, there has to be, but they're corporations.  meanwhile, technology has reduced the number of people required to manage that farmland 10 fold.  everywhere are mega farms, no more mom & pop farms.

the topography changes, wheat fields disappear, volcanic rock becomes prominent between patches of grass.  cattle are sparsely spread across the landscape.

after dozens of miles, ponderosa pines start to appear in small patches.

we stopped for water at a volunteer fire department station pretty much in the middle of nowhere but on a corner where we needed to turn - and head up a hill, of course.  a bay door was open and outside washing down one of the trucks was helene.  she'd just finished three days out helping deal with the pine ridge fire.  she hauled water in the tanker she was cleaning and also served as an emt.  no one else was there.

the spokane fire district fire danger status was 'high'.  helene said they were constantfly dealing with 'idiots' starting fires with fireworks or shooting guns.  she also taught us to properly say 'tekoa' (tea-koh)and 'rosalia' (rose-ilia).

we were really happy believing we had passed the desert as ponderosa pines began to appear and patches of shade crossed the road.  the roads were no longer in straight lines, but reacted a little better to the topography, the relationship to hills made more sense.

trees were interspersed with beautiful rolling green hills straight out of microsoft's fantasy landscape.

we continued across country,  we rolled into rosalia for a late lunch of pizza and liquid.  dan had four cans of coke! i hydrated with ice tea.

more rolling hills of green wheat.  

and we come back to the palouse to cascade trail that we had abandoned so far back.  we decide to give it one last try and see if we can finish on the last stretch.  no good.  it ain't happening.

we return to the road, hot, tired and frustrated.  i think this is where dan thinks we got a little persnickety with each other.  heat and being worn out will do that.  the paved road turns to gravel one last time.  after about 5 miles of that, we finally came to our night's intended stop, tekoa.

in the two block downtown, there is a small pocket park, maybe 25 feet wide.  the merchants? organized this and have signed it as a 'rest area'.  there are two clean, unlocked toilets set back on one side, a couple of picnic tables, simple but pleasant landscape that includes a plush green grass area.  all the makings of an excellent campiyy strolled across the street and up the block to the only beer in town.  turned out to be an excellent choice.  decent small selection of beers, good salsa and chips, and friendly bartender.  he told us that no one would bother us in the pocket park, we'd be okay.

we met leo, too.  leo was a lanky old timer breathing from a portable oxygen machine.  leo had to give up alcohol, but he came to the bar every now and then for company.  tonight was his birthday, 72 years old.  when i heard that, i didn't want to tell him my age, but we had already discussed high school et al and he figured it out.  turns out, his breathing issues came from working with carnivals most of his life fixing machinery an

d breathing in diesel smoke.

we toasted his birthday, paid the bill and headed back to our pocket park for the night.