This trip started with a whoosh. Well, actually it started with a long slow drive up a rocky road, leading to that whoosh. The whoosh was the air rushing out of our right rear tire at record speed after being punctured by a rock. There’s nothing quite like spending the day working your way into a remote site in the forest to spend a few days, only to come up a mile or so short of your goal, and then feeling the need to go get a tire fixed. We passed the three options of camps we intended to stay at. They looked very nice. Maybe next time.
We spent the remainder of the day, and most of the next one driving out for a tire repair and then back to the St. Joe. Along the way out we picked up another flat tire. I guess the rocks are sharp on the St. Joe. Or they had a message for us. I’m going with the first option.
After two flats in one day you’d probably say it was smooth sailing from then on, right? We’ll you’d be wrong. The very next day, arriving in camp after a very full day of repairs and a long drive, to the very upper reaches of the St. Joe, we barely had the truck unloaded when I noticed the left rear tire looking really low. Yep another flat. Of course the next day was a Friday. We’d need to head out and get this tire fixed when before the weekend came and who knows what kinds of chaos we would encounter with the tire gods frowning down on us.
We at least had the night to take a hike down the river for some looking around. It was already too late to head anywhere, with tire shops being at least a half day drive out on rough roads.
At least we had the entire place to ourselves.
Third tire in two days repaired, check.
After a bit of rumination that the St. Joe had it out for us, we ended up driving up another river, ready to abandon our explorations of the St. Joe. That didn’t last long though, seeing all the people in floaty tubes and lawn chairs on the Coeur D’Alene river we quickly hightailed it out of there and it was back to the more remote St. Joe for us. We finally settled in for a few days of fishing, hiking, camping and relaxing. The clear waters of the St. Joe are amazing, and there are a few nice cutthroat there to boot.
Sometimes the trip doesn’t go as planned. And in the end that’s ok. We walked away (actually we were able to drive away on all four tires!) with some good memories. Who knows, maybe we’ll even find ourselves up on that ridge again, just a mile away from a really great camp…
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