The First Harley Trip, 2014 Part 10: Coeur d’ Alene

The First Harley Trip, 2014

Part 10: Coeur d’ Alene

There was so much I wanted to do and see in CDA and the surrounding area but I only had a few days to do it. First on my list was just to drive through the town and see the changes. I wanted to see the old Siesta Motel at the east end of Sherman Ave that my parents owned in the mid 70’s. I wanted to go to Fernan Lake at the east end of town. I wanted to visit Spirit Lake a small town where I bought my first home, about a half hour north of CDA. I wanted to visit Kelso Lake, the place where my family took our annual vacations during my childhood. And I wanted to go see the house my dad built out in the boonies north of Sandpoint.

Visiting CDA after all these years became an emotional and contemplative few days for me that I did not expect. It was filled with both fond memories and recollections of sadness.  CDA is where my parent’s marriage ended and therefore my family as I knew it. CDA represented failures for both my dad and I. CDA is where my brother grew up and was forced into adulthood at an early age through many difficult situations that were outside of his control. CDA is where I went through some of my most difficult financial times and feelings of helplessness and despair. CDA is where my son Eli was born. CDA is where I bought my first home. CDA is where I the made to decision to never consume another drop of alcohol. CDA is where I learned about survival and the value of becoming self-reliant. I suppose over the years, I had locked away certain memories that I was now, although unknowingly, ready to confront.

After an early morning Starbucks, I rode around CDA trying to locate some memories. I was amazed at how CDA had grown and changed. At one point back in the 70’s, the local McDonalds was the only one in the country, perhaps the world, with a hitching post for horses. That was long gone, giving way to a crowded bustling street with traffic lights. What was once farmland was now tract housing developments. The highway leading north out of town, 95, was now a continuous stream of  commercial shops, strip malls, and chain stores and chain restaurants of ever kind imaginable creating a seamless transition into the next town, Hayden Lake; now, just called “Hayden.”  I tried to find the single story hospital and clinic where Eli was born but that was now a huge multi-building multi-story medical complex with acres of parking lots. The motel my parents owned had been demolished and in its place was an office building of some sort. Some of the cute lakeside cottages were now highrise condos by the lake. All in all though, I must say that with all of the changes and development, the city planners and powers that be did a great job controlling the progress and development. There seemed to be some intelligent long-term professional planning and a definite vision in place. I was happy about that. CDA, if it was change you were looking for, you did a fine job.  

The next day I headed north, first stopping at Spirit Lake to see the changes there.

Downtown Spirit Lake

I rode by the house I had purchased in 1979.

My First Home

It looked the same as did the entire town, although maybe a bit cleaner and a bit tidier.

From there, I headed east on a rural road and headed to Kelso Lake. Arriving at the east end of Kelso Lake, I stopped where my family still owns a small undeveloped lakeside lot, “The Corner Pocket” that my parents bought in 1967 or so. It looked the same.

The Corner Pocket

Heading farther up the dirt road, I came to the place where Kelso Lake Resort once stood. This was the place I spent my childhood vacations.

The resort was gone, abandoned, giving the appearance of blight.

Kelso Lake . Where the resort once stood

Actually, all of the cabins on the lake looked rundown, second rate, and in need of repairs. I guess Robert Frost was right when he said, “…nothing gold can stay.”

 Saddened by the state of Kelso Lake I backtracked on the dirt road heading north. On a small section of the dirt road, I was reminded how this stretch is where my dad taught me how to drive a stick-shift in his 1965 VW bug. I was probably in 6^th grade at the time.

The road where my dad taught me how to drive a stick shift

I headed north on 95 to Sandpoint passing all of the small towns and lakes realizing that I had forgotten their names but smiled as I read them; Garwood, Carrywood, Cocolalla. I crossed over Pend Oreille Lake on the bridge but did not realize that the highway had bypassed some of the town. After a bit of confusion, I found the highway that would take me towards my dad’s old house, the one he built 35 years ago. Like the other roads that I remember as being rural, this road had been developed with its share of commercial buildings and chain junk food restaurants.

 I knew once I hit the old Colburn Store, I needed to turn right. After several miles and realizing that I had gone too far, I realized that the old store had been torn down. I found the road I was looking for, Colburn-Culver Road, and took it to the dirt road, just past the railroad tracks, that I remembered would take me to my dad’s house. Finding the road, I made the right turn and headed towards my dad’s. The only problem was that in the 35 years it had been since I last saw that property, all of his fields, 52 acres worth,  had been planted with pine trees. It looked different. I was looking for open meadows and all I saw was forest. Eventually, I found some familiar landmarks and located the dirt drive that took me to his house, which was now the house and a small lumber mill.

Dad's House

The house, never finished, was in terrible disrepair. Two men were working on the interior starting to restore it. Talking to them, I learned that the owner is the same owner my dad sold the property to, Bob Lucemore. Bob also owned the local lumber yard, explaining the on-site lumber mill. Shortly after my arrival, Bob arrived. We had a nice conversation about my dad and his ex-wife, Barb. Bob let me take pictures and walk around.

Saw Mill

I know my dad was always proud of that house. It had the appearance of Noah’s Ark turned upside down.  It was somewhat of an engineering puzzle that he figured out in the simplest of design and fabrication techniques. He bartered for materials and labor and built most of everything himself with the help of his wife, (at the time,) Barb. Eventually, because of his financial condition at the time, he was forced to sell it and move to California to start a new life, a happier life. It saddened me to see a dream of my dad’s knowing that he never got to see it fully completed.

Heading back to CDA, the temperature dropped and it started to rain. I didn’t have my gloves with me and my hands let me know it. It was about a 90 minute ride back to the motel. Not fun!

After a hot shower and a meal, I settled into bed in front of the TV ready for a good night’s sleep. In the morning, I’d be heading south to Lewiston, Idaho to find Barb…………after a morning Starbucks.