I left at dawn on the 22nd from the US Forest Service “Cabin City” campground where 47 degrees was my morning’s greeting. While in the mountains this was one of the warmest overnight temperatures I have experienced on this trip. One morning was just below freezing. Kansas City has not been so fortunate.

It was a long driving day that took me half way to Salt Lake City where I planned to visit our friends Lena and Ron at their home. More on that visit later…

I took advantage of a truck stop to do laundry, catch a shower, and then I put more miles behind me before overnighting with the “Big Rigs” at an Interstate rest stop.

The morning of the 23rd was another early riser in order to time my arrival in Salt Lake City before noon.

As I drove south into Utah on I-15, I enjoyed an extraordinary panorama that must have cried “Promised Land” to the Mormon pioneers of the mid-19th Century. I had to mentally blot out the Interstate and the occasional sounds of 18 wheelers, large RV’s, and passenger cars pounding the pavement of this arterial highway.

The roadway was completed around 1990. The section that I traveled just south of the Utah/Idaho boarder was perched on a rise with a shallow valley to the west on my right. In the distance the crystal clear air revealed mountains to the east and a well laid out western town of a few hundred citizens down in the valley to the west. Perched upon the rise between the town and the highway was an equally well laid grid-work cemetery, the morning sun brilliantly illuminating the hundreds of white stone monuments. The grounds were obviously associated with the town. I guessed that the “citizens” in repose outnumbered the living residents of the town. A question was thus presented to me: Do those now living upon the Earth outnumber those who have gone before us in death? A stop for gas and a hurried consultation with Professor Google provided me with some answers.

First of all, I am not the first person to have asked the question. Secondly, our species (Homo sapiens) has been around for about 50,000 years. They did a terrible job of record keeping until the 1800’s. Demographers were left with a puzzle that had clues but no definitive statistics.

Earth is currently home to over 7.5 billion souls. We are replacing our dearly departed at the rate of approximately 20 births per 1,000 people. In and before the Middle Ages this number was likely around 80 per 1,000 people. However, factoring infant mortality the life expectancy of our species during and before the Middle Ages may have been as low as 10-12 years! Today the world-wide life expectancy it is around 67 for males and 71 for females.

Crunching the numbers, the Population Reference Bureau (“PRB”) has estimated that more than 108 billion members of our species have been born to date, and that approximately 7% of that number are alive today. That is approximately 14 dead for every person now living.

Kudos and a “tip of the hat” to Arthur C. Clark (author of “2001 as Space Odyssey”) who in 1968 estimated the ratio at 30-1 when the Earth’s population was just 3.5 billion. His estimate is consistent with the PRB’s.

In order for the number of living humans to exceed the number of dead ones the Earth must somehow support well over 100 billion living humans… pretty unlikely. “Whew!!!”

Back to Salt Lake City: Christine and I first met Ron and Lena in 2017 while camping on Sitka Island and traveling to mainland Alaska.

We immediately hit it off with this like minded traveling couple. They were originally from Canada and each achieved their PhD, Ron in Chemistry and Lena in Social Sciences. They founded their own business that involved environmental issues and engineered solutions. They retired around 2000. In 2018 Christine and I were traveling through Spain on our way to walk the Portuguese Camino. I received a message from them. They had been reading my posts and damned if they weren’t in Madrid on the same day that we were! We joined them for a memorable evening with promises to get together again. Again came yesterday at their home in Salt Lake City.

Ron and Lena are in the process of downsizing and simplifying life. They have sold the remarkable 1898 home that they totally renovated.

They put aside their packing duties to entertain me with lively conversation, wine, lunch and dinner, and an amazing night overlook of the city.

Within 10 minutes of my arrival in their home we were talking about this year’s travels and “next things” for the future. Among those future possibilities are: An RV camping tour of the inner and outer coasts of the Mexican Baja Peninsula… A one-week sailing from Montreal to the Madeleine Islands of the St. Lawrence (Nanci and Tom I hope you are reading this!)… and a voyage to the Arctic up the west coast of Norway on the “Hurtigruten”, a mailboat with spartan passenger accommodations for the intrepid traveler (Hege and Jan-Cato I hope you are reading this!).

There are no definite plans, but “next things” have a habit of finding us, and so it seems with Ron and Lena. Beyond amazing is that Ron and Lena know our Denver friend Kris (my next stop as I am homeward bound), having met her in 2016 while walking a route of the Camino in France! Some things simply defy explanation.

Tomorrow I return to Winter Park for an overnight before arriving in Denver. In the meantime…

Peace Everyone. Pete

PS. Speaking of the “Unexplainable”. This morning, without any action on my part, my website re-launched two posts from our 2018 Europe trip, one about Norway and the other about Berlin which included a get together with Stanley, a gentleman with whom I had just exchanged email greetings yesterday. I remain convinced that our senses are inadequate to explain the experiences that befall us.

Less than two miles south of Wallace a life and death drama played out in late August of 1910. It was the time of the “Big Burn”, a conflagration that would consume over 3 million acres of forest and extinguish the lives of 78 firefighters and as many as 55 civilians. But for the heroics of Ranger “Big Ed” Pulaski another 39 souls would have been added to those grim statistics.

Born in 1865, Ed Pulaski completed his high school studies at the age of 15 and left his home in Ohio to seek fortune and adventure in the western United States. Prior to his arrival in Idaho he had become a skilled woodsman, rancher, miner, lumberman, surveyor and blacksmith.

He was an imposing figure at 6-foot-3. He hired on with the fledgling US Forest Service in the very early 1900’s and quickly acquired a reputation for intelligence, resourcefulness, and a driven work ethic. By 1910 Pulaski was in charge of forestry operations in the area surrounding Wallace.

The spring and summer of 1910 brought record drought with less than a half-inch of rain in June, and no measurable precipitation in July or August. Fires were sprouting up everywhere and Pulaski’s crews had the hopeless task of extinguishing them. Around the 20th of August near hurricane force winds stoked the many fires into one all-consuming inferno. Ed sensed that his region, and the town of Wallace was lost. He instructed his wife and daughter to leave there home in Wallace and flee to safety. His parting words were that they may never see him again. Ed then went into the mountains to assemble as many of his men as possible and lead them to safety.

Most of his crews were not locals and were unfamiliar with the area that they were working. It was common in the exigencies of the time to hire temporary workers and thus a number of the 78 deceased firefighters were buried as “Unknown”.

Ed knew of an abandoned silver mine that offered some small hope for survival if he could just get his men there. He rode his horse through the burning timbers, struggling to breath, yet yelling to be heard over the roaring flames. Ultimately, he was able to round up 45 of his crewmen and lead them through the wildfire to the mine. He personally maintained wet blankets at the entrance to suppress as much smoke and heat as possible. In the process he was blinded, suffered serious burns, and was rendered unconscious.

He and 39 of his crew survived the ordeal. Sadly, 6 perished. Until his own death in 1932 he personally tended the graves of those deceased, one of whom was an “Unknown”.

The route of Pulaski’s escape with his men is now a US Forest Service hike and is maintained as a shrine to those who lost their lives in the Big Burn.

The 4 mile round trip ascends 800 feet in elevation ending just above the mine entrance where the men sought refuge.

The trail is interpreted with over a dozen signs that tell the tale of the fire and Ed Pulaski’s heroics.

In February of 1931 Big Ed retired having reached mandatory retirement age. A year later(nearly to the day) he died of a sudden heart attack. Pulaski never fully recovered from his injuries. His eyesight and stamina were permanently compromised. He remained humble in spite of his fame among locals and his peers. He rarely spoke of the rescue and only once wrote the details at the insistence of his superiors.

Ironically, the monument that ultimately immortalized him was created by his own hands. In 1911 he fashioned and forged a long-handled tool that combined a single-bit ax with an adze-shaped hoe on the back. He improved upon the design and urged the Forest Service to adopt and distribute the tool as standard equipment to its firefighters. His invention caught on and soon became an indispensable tool for every “smoke-eater”. It’s utility was recognized by municipal fire departments across the United States and today the tool that Ed designed can be found in virtually every fire station and on every fire truck in America. The tool is known today as a “Pulaski”.

Peace Everyone. Pete

PS. Ed’s wife and daughter survived unharmed. Most of Wallace was leveled to ashes. The area’s forests were totally destroyed and thus virtually every tree that stands in this region today was one that germinated and grew after the fire… with perhaps one exception:

PPS. I leave Wallace in the morning and begin my return to Kansas City.

I had a trove of narrative and pictures from my July 17th ride on the Coeur d’Alene Trail yesterday, but the thing that I lacked was sufficient cell or WiFi signal to stitch them together and upload for posting. Undaunted, I set off west on I-90 to find the signal strength I required. Over 40 miles later (yes, 40!) my signal meter indicated 4 strong bars and I pulled off the nearest exit and into a Wendy’s parking lot to complete my mission. By the time I was back in Wallace it was after noon. I ate a quick lunch and then confronted the question of “what to do next”?

The weather favored a walking tour of the heart of Wallace, so armed with my camera and wearing my hiking boots I set off in search of the unknown.

I strolled the streets, visited a number of shops, and then set foot inside of the Northern Pacific Railroad museum.

$3.50 is the requested donation for admission to this treasure. Cindy efficiently manages the front desk and her smile is infectious.

I received a personal guided tour of this small but immaculately preserved facility from the early 20th Century. My guide was John, an expressive gentleman dressed in period attire who seldom fell out of character.

He delighted in my interest and knowledge of minutia that was relevant to his discourse. He is a retiree, volunteer, and actor in the local Melodrama Playhouse troupe. Among the visit’s highlights were the Ladies and Children waiting room with heat and its own private lavatory.

Men were not allowed as most were dirty mouthed, tobacco spitting, miners.

The station office contained its original furnishings, including working telegraph (operators could send and receive at the rate of 40 words per minute!), the original Oliver typewriter,

a press duplicator that could make up to 5 images of an original bill of lading by pressing onion skin paper under the original and leaving them in place overnight. Low tech,but it worked.

There was even an original candlestick telephone that was still wired into the network. My guide produced his cell phone, apologized for being out of period, and “dialed” the 100 year old phone. He and I then held a brief conversation… he using 21st Century technology and me the early 20th Century tech. I was amazed by the clarity with which the old phone reproduced his voice.

The office also contained the original station safe, which was specially manufactured for the Norther Pacific RR by the Diebold Company of Canton Ohio.

It was structured with laminated layers of steel and concrete, and there was even a high security safe within the safe for keeping silver bullion. If one unsuccessfully attempted to open the internal safe the mechanism timed-out before allowing another attempt.

He was especially proud of a Hartmann Luggage Company (still in business today!) steamer trunk that had been owned generations ago by one of the town’s dignitaries. It weighs over 100 pounds empty, and contains a drawer for jewelry, a mini-bar (that came with decanter and glassware), and a compact electric iron to press clothing.

John explained that the station had been moved about 200 feet from its original location to make room for the construction of I-90. He continued to explain that in the early 1970’s the Idaho Department of Transportation proposed to build the Interstate through the heart of Wallace. Virtually the entire downtown would be condemned and demolished in the interest of transportation progress. The citizens instituted litigation and obtained injunctions that prevented Idaho from going forward. However, after 20 years in the Courts, Idaho prevailed… sort of. Final judgments were rendered in favor of the State, but during those preceding 20 years the citizens, largely through the hard work of one woman, secured a designation for the entire town that placed Wallace on the Register of Historic Places. The State was forced to build the Interstate ABOVE the town, and in the case of the Depot, move it unharmed to a safe location.

My tour of the station ended and I proceeded on foot to another tour that had been recommended to me.

The Sierra Silver Mine had a storied history that began with miners and hand tools exploring a silver vein in the area known as the richest silver producer in the world. The men dug for 7 years yet made less than 100 feet of progress with their shaft. Later owners using pneumatic drills and dynamite would make similar progress with a small crew in only 4 days. Subsequent operators expanded the mine to thousands of feet of tunnels on many levels but never found the “mother lode”. As it turned out another mine, digging from miles away, extended its shafts horizontally 1,800 feet below the Sierra and struck rich oar that produced over 50 pounds of silver for every ton of ore. The best that the Sierra had done was a few ounces of silver for every ton of ore.

The Sierra could not extract silver from the ground, but its modern operators learned how to extract silver from the pockets of tourists, me included.

For $14 (with senior discount) we customers were driven to the mine in a trolly bus. We were met at the mine by a retired miner, in this case “Fast Freddie”.

Freddie had dedicated his entire working life to the mining profession.

Taking us below he explained the workings of a silver mine and then demonstrated with the actual machinery. The experience was both delightful and deafening.

Freddie showed how miners had once worked assisted solely by candlelight, then by carbide lamp, and finally by modern lithium powered LED lit hard hats.

I have previously toured coal, gold, iron, and even salt mines, but this was the best such tour by far. Again, I was not a silent observer. Like the train station guide, Freddie became happily animated by my questions and interest. It doesn’t take much for my child-like wonder to kick in.

Tomorrow is my last day in Wallace. Who knows what tomorrow may bring?… not me.

Peace Everyone. Pete

I arrived in Wallace Idaho noon on the 16th. It’s a quirky town of about 1,000 souls that holds itself out as a major tourist destination, and the only town in the US that is listed in its entirety on the National Register of Historic Places.

One intersection in town declares itself to be the “Center of the Universe”. Who am I to say otherwise… I’m writing this missive within its confines.

“Quirky” may also describe the Wallace RV Park where I am situated for the next 4 nights.

It is not a typical camp selection for me. It sotmewhat resembles a parking lot, but there is some grass and a creek bubbling behind my trailer.

It’s just that there are no picnic tables, no fire grates, and few children. There is an abundance of retirees, large motor homes (we call those “sun-blockers”), pets, ATV’s, and cigarettes smokers. It’s just a different camping group than I am accustom to. This sounds like a complaint so let me clarify: There is a terrific brew-pub located at one end of the park, the Trail of the Coeur d’Alene (“CdA)” is located about 200 feet outside the park, and the heart of downtown (and the Center of the Universe) is just a 2 block walk. I really like this place! What’s more, I have full hook-ups (electric, water and sewer) for only $35 a night. Wallace RV Park is popular and rightly so.

On my first night here I walked 2 minutes to the City LImits Brew Pub here in the park and enjoyed a “flight” of beer samples.

All were top-notch craft beers. The burger I ordered was excellent as well. Outside on the patio I had the pleasure of hanging out with fellow campers Kathy (a solo camper from Michigan) and Donna and Terry, a couple from MIchigan also staying in the park. The three had met for the first time here and rode the Route of the Hiawatha the same day (the 15th) that I did. Terry and Donna rode the CdA early on the 16th and paid an unfortunately high price for the shuttle back to Wallace.

My plan had been to ride from Wallace to the west end and transport back. I had been told that the cost was one dollar per mile. What I had not been told was that the miles include the drive to deliver me to my destination AND the shuttles drive back to Plummer… over $150!! I was taken aback, but I still intended to go forward the plan on the morning of the 17th.

Kathy piped up that she was heading to the west end of the CdA where she had a camp reservation at Heyburn State Park. She offered to take me and my bike with her and I could then bicycle the 60+ miles back to Wallace. What a stroke of luck for me to find a Good Samaritan! It was agreed that we would hit the road in the morning.

The morning arrived cold, a bit dreary, and with a mild threat of showers. True to her promise, Kathy made room for me and my bike. We set off on the nearly 2 hour drive to Heyburn which included a stop at Walmart and a fuel up. We said our goodbyes at Heyburn State Park and I was spinning down the CdA by 11:30 a.m..

The CdA is a 73 mile long 10 foot wide ribbon of well maintained asphalt that was created in the 1990’s by a partnership between State, Federal, and Tribal governments and the Union Pacific Railroad. It is a recreational trail reserved solely for use by bicyclists, inline skaters, and pedestrians.

The CdA is one of the true jewels of America’s Rail to Trails movements. It was not created out of an abiding love for recreational cyclists. Rather, it was created out of the expediency of remediating an environmental catastrophe.

Between the Idaho towns of Mullen on the east and Plummer on the west is a 73 mile stretch of highly toxic earth. Beginning in the late 19th Century the Union Pacific Railroad had been transporting mining ores along this stretch of track. The ores were lead, zinc, and silver. The ore cars leaked a soup of acids, heavy metals, and poisons that permeated the earth along the rail line. The Union Pacific wished to abandon this section and the price was partnering in its cleanup. Options included the monumental task of removing the effected rock and soil or encapsulating it on-site by covering it with a barrier to protect the public. A layer of untainted gravel, covered with asphalt was the answer that created the Coeur d’Alene Trail. One is reminded that it is an imperfect solution as cautions abound to remain on the trail, don’t drink from surface water sources, clean clothes and equipment of any dust from the trail…

The CdA Trail nearly spans the Idaho panhandle from Washington to Montana. The west end lies within the Coeur d’Alene Indian Reservation. From Heyburn State Park the Trail crosses the 3,100 foot long Chatcolet Bridge and Trestle.

As the CdA extends east it follows the Coeur d’Alene River past marshes and many small lakes.

In the east it begins to gain elevation as it wanders with the railbed through an area once populated with mines and small mining communities.

There are 20 trailhead access points and 17 waysides with picnic tables, benches, and some with toilet facilities.

Today I bicycles from Heyburn State Park to Wallace. 60 miles, otherwise known as a “metric-century” (61 miles = 100 kilometers). It was a nearly perfect day for the ride. 71 degrees, and overcast. There were spits of drizzle now and then and a breeze piped up that was as often a head wind as it was a tail wind. For 4.5 hours I rode that ribbon of asphalt and enjoyed the eye-candy of lush wetlands, waves of grasses, wildlife, and the surrounding mountains.

I crossed a number of trestles, Not the high trestles of The Hiawatha, but sturdy low bridges that dated to the start of the 20th Century.

With the exception of the beginning and end this was a flat ride. There was no coasting, but then there was little hard peddling too.

There was a brief stretch through a couple of towns that passed industry, a trailer park, and that Walmart,

Otherwise, this was a ride of remarkable beauty.

Unlike the Hiawatha, I did not stop to read the information signs as I felt pressed by the threat of rain and the need to finish by late afternoon. There were picnic tables and pit toilets at appropriate intervals and even bicycle repair stations that provided tools and a tire pump.

I enjoyed a midpoint rest for lunch at one such trailside spot. The sandwich and trail mix I packed provided a needed energy reboot.

The trail deserves a relaxed rather than a frenetic approach in order to allow one to savor the sights that unfold along the way. I witnessed an Osprey swoop and pluck a fish from the lake adjoining the trail. The bird was faster than the fish… and my camera. I also missed by minutes a moose in the waters by the trail. I encountered the occasional beaver lodge, a menagerie of birds, an abundance of waterfowl, and the usual assortment of small mammals.

Again, I found myself very pleased with the versatility of my new bike. I intend to do more riding on the CdA while here in Wallace. I only hope that I can find adequate cell/WiFi coverage to upload this post and the images of the day. If you are reading this I succeeded.

Peace Everyone. Pete