Revision | Spring Break Northern Idaho

Not everyone remembers an experience the same way. Danny seems to have stored the memory of our recent trip to Idaho in a different section of his brain than I did, and he requested that I post his diary entry for all to see (just to clear up any confusion). So here’s what he has to say…

My Trip to Idaho, by Danny Martin

Dear Diary:
A few weeks ago, I’m sitting at my desk and a message pops up. Its Courtney. She’s sitting right behind me, but still chooses to communicate electrocially. Mostly because she doesn’t want anyone to find out she does about 2% work all day. Anyway, she wants to know if I would like to head over to Sandpoint with her, Clark, and Kate. Excited? Yup. What could be better than a spring break adventure at Schweitzer. Unfortunately, I drew the short straw and had to ride with Kate.

Because of Kate’s usual lack of planning, we left evo mid day on Friday. We caravanned with Courtney and Clark, except they managed to leave at the reasonable hour of 9:30am. The weather forecast looked meager, but with the Stomp Games happening that weekend we were all excited. Being from the East Coast, Kate always gets excited to ski a mountain with over 350 vertical feet, but Courtney, Clarke and myself were especially pumped to go back to Schweitzer - a great mountain all of us had spent many seasons skiing in the past.

Leaving Seattle went smoothly. It was lunchtime, so Kate and I grabbed sandwiches and hit the road. Open country and sunshine ahead, rain, heavy traffic, and the crowded city behind… things were looking good. Kate was driving Patricks car, a bro brah dude mobile super iced out with a pimpin’ system. After she demanded we listen to Tone Loc’s “Funky Cold Medina” thirty times in a row, I went to grab a new CD. When I was finished rummaging through the stale French fries, loose change, and crumpled receipts I grabbed a cd and looked up. Lights and sirens… Great, not even to Ellensburg and Kate is breaking the law again. Strike one.

“Well, I pulled y’all over because yer windas was too dark, I couldn’t even see ya!” exclaimed the cop. “But then I noticed y’alls tabs was expired too.” Turns out driving legally wasn’t on Patricks to do list for the past 3 months. I started digging through the endless pile of candy and toys Patrick left in his glove box to find his proof of insurance. No luck. Meanwhile, Kate starts to flirt with the officer by using her fake laugh while making strong sexual innuendos; she is obviously trying to seduce her way out of a ticket. Finally she ends up giving her license to the officer anyways. Strike two.

We had plenty of time to ponder as the cop ran Kate’s Rhode Island license though the system. (it turns out Kate’s residency is about as important as Patricks tabs.) The officer came back and seemed confused. He told Kate that her license came up as suspended, informed her that it was a crime and proceeded to read her her rights. I glanced over and could see that she was shocked, even after being in deep thought about something silly. Probably flowers or something girly. The cop was friendly and after a few minutes they deduced that it was most likely the result of a speeding ticket which was not paid on time.

At this point, Officer 806 had called for backup and we found ourselves standing on the side of the freeway while they searched Patrick’s whip. I also figured out why Kate’s advances had no luck with the officer when he patted only me down for contraband. He had soft hands so I only felt slightly violated. Luckily the men in blue were feeling generous, and they let us go with only a ticket. They must have realized that we were just a couple stupid skiers and not car thieving, drug smuggling terrorists. The real tragedy was that I was going to have to drive for the remainder of the trip. Strike three.

Soon after our close call, I stopped so Kate could chug a few beers. Her nerves needed to be calmed, so we indulged in a few of her vices: drinking and gambling. She picked up a few tall boys and a couple of scratch tickets to keep from shaking, and we kept on trucking.

When we got to Spokane, I drove Kate by Gonzaga. Being a Spokane native and a Gonzaga Alumni, I figured this was a necessary detour. Besides we needed gas and there was another cop trailing us. While we were fueling up, Kate stumbled back from the bathroom remembering her scratch tickets. She needed a quick fix, so she held them out and demanded that I choose one (only after informing me that the purple one was her favorite/lucky scratch ticket). I picked the green one and won two bucks… score. Leave it to Kate to know her scratch tickets - her lucky pick won $80! It was then I realized the severity of Kate’s gambling problem as she ran around the parking lot screaming and clicking her heels in the air. I’m pretty sure I even saw her put a kid into a headlock as she rubbed the winning ticket in his face.

The rest of the drive went without incident and we met up with Courtney and Clark. They had just returned from the Laughing Dog brewery, and passed a few beers around as Courtney’s parents prepared a feast. Copious amounts of food and beer were consumed, many laughs were shared, and we even scored a history lesson about Stevens Pass. Courtneys dad is one of the coolest people ever, and he has a mustache to boot. Eventually we had to cut the fun short and put Kate to bed, she was getting cranky and we realized the next morning would come sooner than we wished.

Coffee brewing, dogs barking and the shuffle of people brought an end to a miserable night’s sleep. I ended up on the leather love seat, trying to drown out Kate’s snoring while she was sprawled out on the 7 foot couch all night. I peeled my sweaty back and legs off of the leather and drank some coffee while Clark checked the interweb for the day’s weather. Just as we suspected it was warm, but fortunately it was not raining.

All of us were feeling the effects of a good night, and the decision was made to stop for breakfast and Bloody Marys. Apparently the memo didn’t make it to the restaurant because they weren’t serving any liquor until 10am. In a ski town? Really? Red beers were enjoyed instead.

It was warm and we were excited to ski the spring-like conditions. The overcast sky made us nervous of foggy terrain, but we were surprised by high cloud cover and excellent visibility. Schweitzer is such a fun mountain and even with more recognition in the last few years, it remains a mostly untapped jewel in the Northwest. After taking a few really fun laps on the frontside, we slid our way to the back. It was just starting to snow and we (Kate) decided it was a good time to stop for a beer. We watched out the window as the snow got really heavy (read rain) and decided to get a couple more runs in before the weather got even worse. 1.5 runs later we decided to call it and watch the Stomp Games go down from the lodge.

Mad props go out to the crew that built the slopestyle course. Warm temps and constant rain made for difficult building conditions. However, in typical fashion Schweitzer’s crew pulled it off and had a pretty sweet set up. The course started off with a couple jib options that lead into a 3 jump line. Even with the sub par conditions, the athletes were throwing down. I witnessed multiple corked spins, and many were spinning big in both directions. I don’t think Kate watched any of the action because she had been trolling the bar looking for guys, but as usual had to rely on her fallback… Jack Daniels.

After another feast at Courtney’s parents, we had plans of a bonfire and beers. This quickly dissipated as Courtney fell asleep around 7:30. Not to be outdone, Clark quickly got in the mood and was out like a light by 8. Feeling the effects of a mid-day drinking session, it wasn’t long before Kate and I hit the hay.

Without the smell of wet bonfire smoke, the 6 hour ride home was a little more pleasant than I imagined. The sun broke through when we hit the gorge, and the scenery was picturesque. Kate stomped her feet until we pulled over for a photo op. Thinking that was our last stop, we hit the road for home. However, Kate never ceases to amaze me. She whined and complained until we stopped for Blizzards at Dairy Queen. The only thing I’ve seen Kate take down faster than a Butterfinger Blizzard is a 40 of Old English.

All things considered, the trip was more successful than UW’s attempt at the sweet 16. Face!

Read Kate’s post for accura… I mean additional details.