London, Paris and Bonners Ferry, and the Buddha

I am at heart a big city girl, but I love this little, itty-bitty town in the panhandle of Idaho. When I was a kid, I'd look at the panhandle of states like West Virginia, Oklahoma and and wondered what was there. 

Now I know. At least for Idaho.

Nestled in the Selkirk Mountains, this little town is thirty miles from the Canadian border and four hours from Banff, the famous Canadian National Park. Bonners Ferry is in the river basin of the Kootenai (pronounced Coot-Knee).

Doesn't it look pretty from a satellite?

Bonners Ferry is the least bougie place on the earth, and I found that a wonderful escape from the urban world where we are forced to spend time outside because there is nothing else to do. Nothing.

Pedro and I went on a guided fishing trip, where we were on a float boat for eleven hours. My personal best catch for the trip was a sixteen inch rainbow trout. Pedro and I caught two fish at the same time. He was delighted to have two fish in one net.

When we weren't fishing, I went on a hike to a waterfall and then paddle-boarded on a quiet lake where I saw a deer on the shore and a heron. I met up with a pair of kayakers on the middle of the lake, and they told me of reports of a grizzly in the area. I figured they meant the greater Bonners Ferry vicinity. Nope. They meant like within a mile south of the lake I was on. When I pulled my paddle board ashore, I met some local women with six young kids between them. They were not phased by the reports of a grizzly bear. Just another day living in the middle of the wilderness.

Then I came home, and went to the Old Stove Brewery in Pike Place Market where I sat overlooking Elliott Bay, with the Wheel, the West Seattle Port, two stadiums, and a view of Mt. Rainier in the background. This is the land of the beautiful and the hip, which is fine. I am okay straddling both worlds. My friend Clara lives on Capitol Hill and has a beach house in a remote small town on the Pacific. Now I understand why she does this. I love the Pacific Northwest Ballet and local theater. I love the awesome restaurants and art galleries in my neighborhood. I love the walk along Elliott Bay to the Sculpture Garden.

I also loved stepping away from it all, and trying something completely different. I have a dear friend who lives in California. She has three houses in different states, and her most recent vacation pictures on Facebook where of her trip to Wimbledon. I am sure it was great, but how many awesome vacations can a person take? Each one needs to be better and more exciting than the last one.

A friend of mine was recently telling me the story of the Buddha. Buddha grew up as a prince, surrounded by wealth. He was destined to be either a great king or a wiseman, and he renounced his fortune and title and became enlightened. When I see my old friend take fancy vacation after vacation, I think of the Buddha, and I wonder what my friend's wealth has done to her? Is she happy? She is peaceful, content, or serene? 

I'm not giving up on money anytime soon like Buddha did, but taking a rural vacation was a complete change from my regular life. I went to a different world, where I was the outsider. 

And it was beautiful.

View of the Kootenai from the hotel

A sixteen inch rainbow

Two fish, one net.

Pedro taking a break from the boat and spay casting in the Kootenai.

At the Kootenai National Wildlife Refuge. It reminds of something
Van Gogh would have painted in Arles.