Idaho's lovely land of lakes - natural beauty and tourism
Sunset, Sept, 2000 by Julie Fanselow
Come September, linger in the Panhandle's autumn-leafed, uncrowded playground
* Fifteen thousand years ago, an ice dam near what is now Clark Fork, Idaho, held back a massive lake that covered much of the northern Rockies. When the ice plug broke, glacial Lake Missoula surged across the Columbia Plateau, scouring out the Grand Coulee and the Columbia River Gorge. Geologists say the torrent ranked among history's greatest floods.
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Here in northern Idaho, near where the deluge began, I survey the rounded mountains and river deltas, trying to imagine the force of such a catastrophe. But cradled in a sea kayak on placid Lake Pend Oreille, all I feel is calm--and a bit adventurous. Josie Merithew, founder of Sandpoint, Idaho-based Full Spectrum Tours, has helped everyone from lumberjacks to little old ladies learn how to paddle their own kayaks. Now it's my turn. With strong, steady strokes, she leads me away from land and past a stand of backwater reeds, where blue herons perch and moose sometimes meander. The muted light of early fall settles on cottonwoods and alders, which are quietly shifting from green to gold.
This is Merithew's favorite time of year. "The lake has basically been abandoned," she says. "It's been left to the migratory waterfowl and wildlife." The scene is the same all over northern Idaho. The towns of Coeur d'Alene and Sandpoint throng with tourists all summer long, but after Labor Day everything--the region's big lakes and small cities alike--belongs to the locals and to the relatively few travelers who visit during these sublime months. Perhaps this is what the north country was like after the epochal flood, when peace followed turbulence.
An unknown land discovered
Not long ago, northern Idaho was unknown to most people outside the inland northwest. Mining and logging prevailed, and--although fishing and boating enthusiasts had discovered the recreational riches of the pristine lakes--tourism hadn't taken hold. All that has changed in the past decade. Today northern Idaho receives acclaim for its tony visitor amenities-- golf, shopping, bed-and-breakfast inns, and first-class hotels. At the same time, it's a region that is growing up in public, sometimes awkwardly, as it copes with a population boom and with an economy negotiating the transition from mining and logging to tourism.
But in fall, the region gets a chance to catch its breath. For visitors the relaxed atmosphere soothes like a balm after the heated days of summer. A few days after my kayaking excursion, I hike up Tubbs Hill, a Coeur d'Alene landmark ringed by the 2-mile Perimeter Trail, with great views of the lake that shares the city's name. I'd planned a quick stroll on the main route, but I keep getting sidetracked by spur paths leading to lovely, lonely beaches. It's late on a Saturday morning, yet I count fewer than 10 other hikers. One spur descends to an outcropping. I look west and see the copper-topped Coeur D' Alene Resort and the busy waterfront. To the east I see nothing but lake and sky and forest.
History, luxury, and leafy solitude
Many visitors to northern Idaho use Coeur d'Alene, the region's largest city, as a base camp. From there you can take easy day trips to neighboring towns. To the north via U.S. 95, Sand-point is known not only for fun on Lake Pend Oreille but also for shopping. The Goldwater Creek catalog company makes its home here on the Cedar Street Bridge; elsewhere within Sandpoint's downtown, shoppers can browse everything from a store devoted to Ecuadorean imports to one with nothing but stuff from Texas.
History is the main attraction along the Interstate 90 corridor. Atop a hill 27 miles east of Coeur d'Alene, the Gataldo Mission is visible from the highway but warrants closer inspection. The mission was built in the 1850s by Goeur d'Alene Indians supervised by Jesuit missionary Father Anthony Ravalli, who designed what the tribe called "the House of the Great Spirit." As much artisan as architect, Ravalli, legend has it, used huckleberry juice to stain the mission's ceiling sky blue.
Farther east, the towns of Kellogg and Wallace once led the world in silver, lead, and zinc production. Mining has declined, and the Silver Valley--as Wallace, Kellogg, and surrounding towns are collectively known--has embraced recreation as its new growth industry, while preserving its past at several offbeat museums. The Oasis Rooms Bordello Museum in Wallace, for instance, documents an industry that thrived locally until 1988--when the Oasis Rooms, the last of several bawdy houses, closed its doors for good. The Sierra Silver Mine Tour, also in Wallace, features veteran miners telling of their trade.
Despite the wealth of day-tripping options, some visitors prefer to stay put and be pampered. Coeur d'Alene has long been famous for a trove of bed-and-breakfast inns-more than 20 at last count-and it boasts a highly acclaimed guest ranch nearby.
A secluded valley cradles the Hidden Greek Ranch. Diversions include everything from roping and riding to minicourses in Native American crafts, but some visitors do little except laze in a hammock, soak in a hot tub, or take a slow boat ride on nearby Blue Lake.