July 30: North Lake Dickey Campground

     I slept in this morning and hung around the town of Eureka waiting for the library to open (at 11:00 a.m.) so I could update my blog.  There were a total of two computers available for public use and as soon as my hour was up, the gestapo-like librarian was all over me to wrap it up.
     Outside, a young hippy named Tony came up to me and introduced himself.  He asked about my trip and after I told him about it, I pointed at the decked-out bike leaning up against the library wall. "That must be your bike over there."
     "No, that's my girlfriend's bike.  She's inside.  I ditched my bike about a hundred miles ago and have been hitchhiking from town to town and meeting up with her that way."  I knew exactly who his girlfriend was, judging by his look and the look of the girl sitting next to me at the other computer. 
     "Where are you guys headed?"  I asked.
     "We're going to British Columbia for a rainbow festival.  Have you heard of those?"
     "No," I shook my head, "I'm afraid I haven't."
     "Well, it's just a bunch of hippies gathering in the woods celebrating peace and love."
     "When I was younger I thought of myself as sort of a hippie."
     "Man," he began, as he held his heart with both hands, "it's all right here.  You've still got it."
     "Yeah, I think you're right."  And he wished me luck and urged me to be safe.

     I decided to make it an easy riding day.  I put in about 17 miles and pulled into the North Dickey Lake Campground and had my own personal rainbow festival, celebrating peace and love with a Going to the Sun I.P.A--a craft beer brewed in nearby Whitefish, Montana--and then another one.  And then another one.
     I have always liked National Forest Campgrounds.  They are simple, not overly-managed, and usually set near a lake or a river with some redeeming scenic qualitiies.  My wildlife for the day included one deer and an osprey.  Three times since I left Washington I have seen tall poles that seem to have been placed near lakes or rivers specifically for ospreys to build nests on.  Twice those fish-eating hawks just chirped at me repeatedly when I stopped to look.  But today, the mother (I assume) left her nest and kind of flew toward me to assure that I moved along.  I did.

North Dickey Lake Campground in the Kootenai National Forest.

Look carefully and you can see the nesting ospreys.