Day 4 - Farragut

The first order of business at Farragut was disc golf--it was after all, pretty much the whole reason we camped there.  After reading reviews on DGCR, we decided that A.W.O.L. was the first course we should play.  it was the longest and most difficult, so we figured it would be best to do that one first while we were still fresh and the sun wasn't hot.  

Part of the fun of the Farragut experience was that our campsite was a couple miles or so from where the disc golf courses were.  Naturally, we didn't want to walk all the way there, nor did we want to deal with the hassle of trying to stow our bike gear.  There are apparently no helmet laws in Idaho, so Chuck and I decided to live like the locals and rode over there in full squid status.  I can safely say I don't like riding like a squid, I felt exposed and cold, and douchey.

The course turned out to be pretty good, we figured it was about the same difficulty level of Seatac back home, but with more space to work with, and no blackberries.  It definitely was less grueling than Four Mounds, being flat for the most part, and having less rocks to scrabble over with each step.  Neither of us kept track of score, as far as I know, but I think we shot fairly decently for being out of practice. Even though we had the early start, it got hot soon enough, and towards the end of the round we were running pretty low on energy and water.

Chuck taking the picturesque route to the basket.

Some of the holes were creatively renamed.  I liked this one.

We finished up the round, squidded back to camp, took a quick breather and then loaded up our dirty clothes and headed to Spirit Lake. We had errands to run and chores to do.  Once we got into town, we put a load of laundry in at the laundromat, and then walked across the street to a little food truck type operation called "As You R" that specialized in burgers and fish and chips.  We both ordered burgers from the quite attractive chick running the place.  We sat outside on a tiny picnic table and when the food came out, it was everything we'd hoped for.  In essence, it was everything that Zip's was not--and cheaper to boot. It might have been just as simple burger and (steak) fries, but it was done right.

Cool as Ice.

"Yo, where da ladies at?"

I'll go out on a limb and say these were the best burgers in town.

After our meal, I went to finish the laundry while Chuck went to secure food for the evening. While hanging out in the laundromat, an older couple chatted with me about our trip and all. They both seemed really excited and happy for us, and they definitely did not seem to have a negative stereotype of motorcyclists (good thing they hadn't seen me after our round.) Just more friendliness in Spirit Lake. 

By the time I got over to help Chuck shop, he was already in the checkout line.  He'd gotten some chicken and veggies for hobo packs again, hoping for better results than what we'd had at Four Mounds. While the laundry was finishing drying, we took a stroll over to the local liquor store and got a bottle of Bulleit, for at least $10 cheaper than what we'd pay in Washington.

Recharged and loaded with clean clothes and supplies, we went back to Farragut.  There was still plenty of daylight and we had energy, so we headed to the disc golf courses again to check out another of Farragut's offerings.  The two remaining courses to pick between were North Star and Wreckreator. Not having much preference, we only hoped to have a couple holes play by the water, but weren't sure which courses did.  The "map" provided at the entrance to the courses didn't do much for indication, but it looked like both courses should play by the lake at some point.  With about as much reason as a coin flip, we chose Wreckreator.

It was a good course, but like A.W.O.L., it didn't really have anything that stood out as great.  It was more forgiving than the former, but in recalling the round, there are only a couple holes I can really bring to memory.  And it never played by the water.

One of the vestiges of the old naval base

Northern Idaho countryside

Though the course was easier, Chuck and I were tired by the end, and if we had been keeping score, we probably would have done worse in our afternoon round.  We finished up golfing and headed back to camp for dinner.  

JC Whitney cases: More than just a fashion statement.

Chuck made up some hobo packs, though rather than putting everything into one pack, he tried separating the meat and veggies into separate packs so that the meat wouldn't get overdone.  He had 1" cubes of chicken seasoned with white wine, cumin, salt and pepper.  He was planning on coating everything with a cream of mushroom sauce he made up, but, um, that didn't go as planned.

At one point, he wanted me to take a picture of the packs cooking in the coals, so I got up to get my camera from the picnic table.  In my defense, it was dark out, and there were many things on the table, including the camp stove with the sauce.  And we had been drinking beer and whiskey.  I grabbed the camera easily enough, but as I turned around, the lanyard snagged on something and the next thing I knew, there was an intense, searing sensation across my feet.  Yup, that was the stove the lanyard had snagged on, and yes, it was indeed filled with creamy, boiling sauce.  I think I yelled some not so family friendly things and did a panic dance, kicking off my Crocs in the process, as most of the sauce had collected there.  We rinsed my feet in cold water from the spigot, and fortunately, they were just superficial burns, but alas, there would be no sauce for the meal.

I've seen similar looking scenes that happened in an entirely different manner.

Believe it or not, I think the Crocs actually helped me here.

As it turned out, it didn't really need it.  The chicken came out really well, and the potatoes too.  The mixed veggies (onions and pepper) were kind of bland, but that was because they had been intended to be covered in sauce.

It wasn't long after eating that we were ready to call it a night. Even though we'd had a rest day in terms of riding, we still ended up being more active. We weren't sure where we'd end up the next night, somewhere on the way to Glacier is all we knew.