Next morning, we collect our substitute COW—a 2015 Chevy Suburban—and set off for McCall, a rustic setting on Lake Payette, ninety miles north, and the Shore Lodge.
Then we do what folks do in lodges: hunker down.
I have a hard time hunkering down; I want to explore, stay in motion, so I drive into town McCall.
It is cold, and hokey; hunkering down at Shore Lodge is the way to go.
Their bar obliges come cocktail hour.
Two stools away sits Eric, transplanted from Orange County in California.
“Until I moved here a few years ago I used to get migraines every month,” he says.
Now he picks up rent for the properties he owns in Newport and bartends at Lardo’s across the street to subsidize his income and raise two boys. “Schools are great here,” he adds. “Good teachers, wholesome living, outdoorsy.”
I hate to leave the live music in the bar, masterfully performed tributes to Simon and Garfunkle and now Crosby, Stills and Nash, in perfect harmony, but dinner in The Narrows awaits our presence.
Lardo’s, a nightcap across the road, is authentically Idaho, with animal skulls and a cougar head adorning its walls.
The right libation in this place is a shot and chaser, in this case a local brew called Makinaw Red.
My first novel about a road trip has been acquired by Skyhorse Publishing in New York City.
It will be published in Fall 2016