Bikes Can't Swim

So early Saturday morning, we packed up all the garbage into the truck and went into A-town to get lattes. On the way, we passed a home with an advertised ESTATE SALE! Hubby has vowed never. I repeat. NEVER would he go to a "junk sale" as he calls them. But I talked him into it on the way home.

We stopped and actually purchased a new riding lawnmower complete with 48" blade for only $50.00. Yes. You read that correctly. $50. The owners had purchased the mower for this year and had recently passed away. What great luck. Plus, I got about 30 awesome electric insulators for only $10.

I had to rub it in all day what a great find the lawnmower was. Greg brought it home and cleaned it up, made sure it started. He will take it to the small motor mechanic for a tune-up.

Joe stopped later and could not believe the deal Greg got on the riding lawnmower. He also pointed out that one could find "super" deals on tools at estate or garage sales. Tool is that magic word that when you say it, men go google-eyed & get a blank stare while they go to their happy place.

Hub worked in the shop all day and came home around 6pm. He had this wonderful idea that he wanted to ride the LongBridge in Sandpoint on Sunday. After realizing he still had to feed Chachi's dogs, we raced down to A-town to visit the puppies. Isabelle was overwhelmed with seeing the Greyhounds & Shorty. After feeding, watering, & playing with them for a while, we returned home. We watched a couple movies, then went to bed late.

Sunday morning I had to go pee, then when returning to bed I kissed Isabelle because she had woken up - I somehow ended up sleeping with her from about 5am until 8am - unable to make the last few steps to my own bed. She's a bed-hog and she snores.

Finally arising at the late hour of 9am, we packed our lunch, backpack, bikes & dog into the truck and took off for Sandpoint. We rode our bikes along the LongBridge and into town for a while, then came back to the truck. Piling into the vehicle, we drove to the Museum that was closed, but toured the Arboreteum viewing the native plants of the area - Idaho fescue, Kinnikinnick, Scarlet gilia, Western RedCedar & Western Hemlock.

From there, we decided to take Hwy 2 south out of town for the scenic views. Greg chose to show me the exclusive resort in Dover and we got out to ride bikes through there also. The dog walked with us for quite a while and after viewing one of the beautiful open houses, we stopped at this waterfall for a quick drink & a photo op.

Slowly biking back to the truck, we let the dog sit in the shade & drink as much as possible. We then left her in the truck while we continued our bike ride.

Greg wanted to take a look down at the Marina. So I followed him out onto the end of the breakwater dock. The view was SO beautiful that I wanted to get a panoramic photo. I put the kickstand out and moved a few inches from my bike, so that it was behind me. Proceeding with the picture, I managed to get a great wooden boat in it. Greg was only a foot behind me, with his bike straddled between his legs, also taking in the marvelous view.

When all of a sudden, a HUGE burst of wind came out of nowhere, and knocked my bike off the dock. INTO THE WATER. I missed the whole thing as it happened behind my back. We were both in shock as we watched my bike sink into the murky depths of Lake Pend Oreille, the old men in the wooden boat were also shocked, then started laughing. I watched as bubbles from the bicycle floated to the top of the water and my bike sank into the abyss. For a few brief seconds, I contemplated ripping off my shirt, dropping my camera & sandals in a vain attempt to dive for the bike. But then I thought. Do I really want to maybe die for a stupid bike? Nope. So we just watched – shocked that something so stupid had happened. After this unfortunate happenstance, there was no more wind. Damn you, nature!

I walked back to the truck, truly dejected that my best friend for the last few months rested at the bottom of a watery grave.

My cell phone was also gone.

Hub tried to cheer me up and on the way home, we stopped in Priest River at Burger Express for crinkle fries that Kelsey just used to love. I wasn’t in a mood to eat greasy food, however I made a slight effort to cheer up. Greg plans to weld a grappling hook so that he can go back tomorrow for an attempt at raising the bike from Davy Jones’ locker.

I suppose that an intolerable amount of teasing will result as this will be made known to hubby’s friends. After watching Titanic the other night with a similar sight - Rose watching as Jack sinks into the icy depths, my bike has already been dubbed “jack” because I was supposed to “never let go”.


Greg is also threatening to get a life jacket for my next bike if he can't resurrect this one.

panoramic view of lake where my

bike lies in a watery grave...