Koocanusa kookiness

Hey there, time traveller!
This article was published 18/05/2024 (496 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Ahh, Lake Koocanusa!

You’re asking, “Lake what?”

Formed in the 1970’s by an international effort to dam the Kootenai River at Libby, Montana, Lake Koocanusa means “reservoir made by kooks who can use a lot of cement.” OK, it combines the first three letters of Kootenai, Canada, and USA.

Venturing south of Canada’s Kootenay Rockies, Margie and I explored the lesser-known U.S. counterpart. B.C.’s Kootenay River becomes Montana’s and Idaho’s Kootenai River before looping back to B.C. The river is named for the area’s Indigenous people. B.C.’s First Nation notably call themselves the Ktunaxa, meaning “the people” and pronounced “k-too-na-ha.”

And you’ll say “Eureka!” because drivers turn west off southbound Highway 93 just before Eureka, Montana. Scenic Byway 37 then loyally hugs Lake Koocanusa for 60 miles. The expressive waterways and forested mountains astound in America’s state with the initials “MT” — as in “empty.”

We watched an osprey circle onto a sofa-sized nest, high atop a roadside dead tree trunk. And the Koocanusa Bridge is an eyeful. The viewing area’s sign says it was declared the world’s most beautiful long span in 1972. As I tell the kids, “That’s recent.”

A woman anonymously behind oversized sunglasses asked, “Does this bridge go to the other side?” Deploying The Look, Margie whispered, “I hear exactly what you’re thinking” as I almost replied, “No. It comes to this side.”

Lake Koocanusa Resort’s patio overlooks teal waters and a busy dock. Inside, a wood-burning stove enhanced my classic American lunch: chili cheeseburger and tots. Twenty-five tots. I got lots of tots at this spot.

Our server said Koocanusa’s desired bounty include inland salmon, or “kokanees,” and rainbow trout. That explains why a plaid-clad customer had asked another, “Catch any rainbows?” Having learned to hold my tongue, good thing I never blurted, “Or unicorns?”

Onward, we gaped at the enormous Libby Dam and, after the Scenic Byway joins U.S. Highway 2, witnessed Kootenai Falls and its seriously swinging bridge over a now torrential Kootenai River. A visitor said, “Our dog immediately laid down as he stepped onto it.” That’s precisely what I should have done.

Kootenai Falls enthrall. We perched on rocks, wondering how the deluge keeps coming. Featured in movies like The River Wild and The Revenant, cascading misty white and turquoise waters smash rocks to roar, roll, and roil. Yup, this trip made me a poet. Waters rush and roodle. Roop and foop. See!

Along Montana’s Cabinet Mountains, we left 2 for southbound Highway 56, aka Bull Lake Road, to explore the Ross Creek Cedars. Red giants tower 53 meters or about 18 storeys. We marvelled how earth produces such enormity, some 1,000 years old. These comprise the biggest, oldest living creation I ever witnessed. And I’ve seen The Rolling Stones.

Wind felled one, exposing its innards. I quipped to Margie, “Count the rings!” She profoundly said, “Ha. I feel small, not just in size. These have lived hundreds of years longer than us. We’re just tiny flecks zipping through.”

A wedding was underway. The preacher invited us to join. To Margie, I profoundly said, “I don’t see a lunch.”

Northbound back on Bull Lake Road, the remote Halfway House Bar and Grill’s patio overlooks a pebbly creek tumbling with a calming murmur toward Bull Lake. That’s where an attractive, hot little dish – a rich-looking Italian beaut – caught my eye at a table. But Margie abruptly elbowed me, saying she didn’t feel like ordering that spicy pizza.

Instead, we enjoyed yummy cheeseburgers and a Libby-brewed Ross Creek Red Ale. For comic relief, a urinal sign said “Those with short barrels, please stand closer to the target.”

Westbound on 2, the gun theme continues at Troy. A restaurant sign announced “The Outlaw Room” showing a handgun. Another sign said “Poachers Supply Co.” Motto: “It doesn’t matter what season it is.”

At a gas station, a pickup appeared with two loud men in the back. Another pickup passed with a teenaged boy in the back — astride a four-wheeler. And it doesn’t matter what law it is.

Troy’s Lake Creek Inn provided a comfortable, economical stay alongside 2, albeit I’d swear late-night logging trucks drove through our room. Or was that my cheeseburgers?

Into Idaho’s densely forested panhandle, I wondered, “No potatoes?” In the welcoming valley town of Bonners Ferry, enjoy Kootenai River Brewing’s regional Huckleberry Wheat. Amid funky home décor and attire, Under the Sun Bisto creates a popular House Panini and Iced Chai. Despite riverfront vistas at Kootenai River Inn Casino and Spa, we were enticed by the cozy Log Inn. As it promised, the ambience compelled us to log out.

Dipping south to Sandpoint, Idaho, we stayed at Schweitzer Mountain’s resort for its chairlift and exhilarating alpine trails. The resort touts summit views to Idaho, Washington, Montana, and Canada. I personally guarantee that views are as far as you can see.

Drive Sandpoint’s two-mile Long Bridge. Walk Cedar Street Bridge across Sand Creek for boutiques and eateries. Savour breakfast over at Di Luna’s. You’ll still fit your sandals. And discover the Selkirk Mountains framing an expansive beach on Lake Pend Oreille — pronounced “pond-er-ay.”

And you’ll say “Good Grief!” because you drive homeward right through, yes, Good Grief, Idaho.

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