Portland To Florence...

My plan was to leave Portland at 6:00am and, to be honest, I impressed myself by actually getting on the road by 6:20am. I bid farewell to Carrie and Eric, my two dear friends who put up with me living in their basement for the last week, and climbed into the Explorer.

 

Ah, yes, the Explorer. I don't believe I've mentioned it, but the ol' girl needed some attention before embarking on this trip. For the last few months, it had been doing this thing where, after about 300 miles or so, the engine temperature would start to climb. I'd been dealing with it by just adding coolant every 300 miles, but I didn't really want to be doing that across the United States and, besides, something was definitely wrong and needed attention. So, some $1,208.22 later, I had a new thermostat, thermostat housing, serpentine belt, and some various sundry things which just made me feel all warm and fuzzy about having addressed.

 

She's runnin' like a champ.

 

 

 

The TomTom GPS unit, which had failed me so miserably on my trip from San Diego to Portland, has decided to begin working again. I wouldn't buy another one, just because it's mildly clumsy, but I have this one now, and it's working, so that's good enough for me.

 

I punched in "Florence, MT - Center", and pulled away.

 

The road, my TomTom, and Boo...

 

The start of the trip was was wet. I'd checked the weather forecasts, and it actually looked as though I would be stuck in rain until I got to Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

 

No bueno.

 

I'd deal with it, though, simply because there really wouldn't be an option. As it turned out, though, the weather began to clear just before I crossed into Washington and, with the exception of an occasional drop here and there, the weather remained clear for the entire trip to Florence.

 

In the six months I spent in Portland, I never ventured past the small town of Hood River when driving on I-84. This would be a first for me, and I was surprised at how different the topography was, once I cruised past Hood River and into eastern Washington, compared to Portland and points west:

 

 

 

 

 

The road gone by...

 

The road went by quickly enough and, thankfully, there was no rain to contend with. It wasn't long before I found myself having passed completely through Washington and into Idaho:

 

And those driving into the State for seven miles will never feel welcome, apparently...

 

I've been telling myself that I need to force myself to stop and do some shooting. When I'm making good time, though, I want to continue making good time. I'd stopped only for gas and lunch, but pulled off of I-90 when I got to the town of Wallace, Idaho.

 

I'd had several people tell me to stop off in Wallace. "Oh, you're a photographer? You have to go to Wallace!"

Who was I to argue?

 

Wallace is an old mining town in the panhandle region of Idaho. It's mining heyday was in the 1890's, when Wallace was the third most populated city in the State. Now, it's largely a collection of antique shops and, for its population of only 784, a lot of bars and restaurants. "Funky" is a word I would use to describe a lot of what's here:

 

This used to be a bus. Then it was a diner. Now I think it's a bus again...

 

These boys take they huntin' serious...

 

Seriously... It's right here... 

 

An old Texaco gas station sign. The old Texaco gas station is long gone...
 

A restaurant with an identity crisis...

Not quite like Vegas...

 

Walking along, I came upon the Northern Pacific Depot Railroad Museum. It's a small museum with a lot of memorabilia from when Wallace was a thriving mining town:

 

The Northern Pacific Depot Railroad Museum... 

The Telegraph Office inside the depot...

This was the women's waiting room (they were not permitted to wait with the gentlemen back in the day). The flag above the door is one which was flown during President Theodore Roosevelt's visit in 1903...

The view from a second floor window in the depot...

 

Now, if you find yourself saying "Huh, what a quaint little town. They should film a movie there", you would not be the first person to say that. In 1980, portions of the movie "Heaven's Gate", starring Kris Kristofferson and Christopher Walken, were filmed here and, more recently (the summer of 1996), Wallace served as the fictional town of Dante's Peak, in the movie of the same name, which starred Pierce Brosnan and Linda Hamilton.

 

As I wandered through the quiet, almost deserted streets, I came upon Wallace Brewing: 

 

Wallace Brewing...

I walked in, and was surprised to find that I was only one of two people in the entire place, the other being brewer Chase Sanborn:

Brewmeister Chase Sanborn...

 

Chase was an affable enough guy who cheerfully served up a rather tasty pale ale:

 

The "Dirty Blonde Pale Ale"...

 

Chase and I began talking, and I'd asked about the movies that were filmed here. While he wasn't here for "Heaven's Gate", he was here for "Dante's Peak. That movie used locals for extras and, in fact, Chase is in the movie. He told me he played the News Director standing behind Pierce Brosnan in the gymnasium scene.

 

Now I gotta' go watch that movie again.

 

Chase invited me to walk around and check things out, so I did. As I walked among the huge brew tanks, I found a placard with "The Beer Prayer":

 

I can only imagine the beer version of "Hail Mary"...

 

When I came back into the main room, Chase was talking to some folks who, like me, had pulled off the interstate and wandered in for a cold one. You could tell he was enjoying this. It was obvious that he loved talking about beer and Wallace and movies. He was a great guy, and he's probably one of the reasons people say "You have to go to Wallace".

 

Chase Sanborn chatting up some customers...

 

After buying a t-shirt and finishing my beer, I bid farewell. I did, after all, have a little bit of a drive in front of me, and needed to get back out on the road. I got back to the truck, fired the engine, and pulled back out onto I-90, still some 130 miles from Florence.

 

It wasn't too long before I was passing into Montana. The drive was good and the roads were clear and, as you can see, there was nothing but sunshine. I was crossing the state line and making the final push to Florence:

 

Welcome to "The Treasure State"...

Sure, it's the end of May; three weeks before the start of summer. Why do you ask?

 

As I always do, I looked for things to shoot. I saw a sign that said "Natural Pier", and decided it was worth checking out. I never did find that pier, but I did find a cool, old single lane bridge which, to look at it, you'd swear would collapse under the slightest strain. Not so. I drove across, parked the Explorer, and grabbed my camera:

 

 

 

 

 

It was dicey...

The view from mid-span. The water was crystal clear...

Railroad tracks on the south side of the bridge...

The St. Regis River...



I made a left...

 

I didn't stop after finding that bridge, and I made my way into Missoula, and then into Florence, before too long. I found my buddy Chris' restaurant, and pulled into the parking lot. As I did, a little bit of rain started to fall, but it was okay. I'd had a great drive without it, so I couldn't complain now. I pulled my jacket on and walked to the door of the Bum Steer, and the end of 11 hours in the truck and my first day's drive...

 

At the Bum Steer in Florence, Montana...