Large, older, pine trees magically appear as you walk into Idaho. Eastern Washington is pillowed with rich wheat farms. Each town has its grain elevator sturdily situated next to an aging railroad siding. Northern Idaho small towns are all about lumber. Yet, it apparently isn’t that easy. “Now you got strict logging coordinates. They’re monitored by helicopter. Ain’t how it used to be”, a store owner tells me.
At dinner, locals are talking about recent wolf sightings. As I check in to Worley’s Pine Hotel Ken the proprietor cautions me, “If you are going up that dirt road to St. Regis, Montana, watch out for wolves. They roam in packs”. Knowing he has my attention he goes on, “They hunt wolves around here even though they are an endangered species. The Governor says he won’t arrest no body for shooting a wolf” I remember my wolf encounter along the Dalton road in Alaska.
OK, I am a little spooked but the show must go on, I think! And I am headed up that same dirt road. Without hesitation, I end stage 7 of My Dream Walk, have a celebratory glass of chardonnay, and prepare to launch Stage 8 irrespective of the timber wolves.