August 1, 2016

I'm in North Forth, Idaho alongside the North Fork of the Salmon River. I would have liked to have stayed in Salmon 19 miles south of here, but the reviews of the parks there were atrocious. The place I'm at scored a 10 for appeal from Good Sam, but all I see are tree stumps, uneven gravel, and dead grass. When I arrived, I was informed that the septic system was down, and that I shouldn’t hook up for an hour or so. No problem: I dumped before I left.

The site to my right is vacant, but the one to my left is occupied by an older travel trailer, an older Ford Explorer, and an older woman who is younger than I am. She drove her dirty laundry 200 yards to wash and dry it, then drove her clean laundry back. She could have carried it back and forth, but it was in the high 80's and at this altitude we're about a mile from the sun. (Tomorrow, it will be 99 degrees, so the dogs and I will likely sublimate.) There is a large t-shirt on her drying rack, and a pair of Nike high-tops by her front door, which lead me to believe that she has male company.

At five o'clock, I went to Happy Hour at the park. No one was there. I went inside to the store/laundry/registration area where some long-termers were chatting. I perused the store with my glass of wine. As I was making my way to the rear to exit, I was invited to sit down at a table in what seemed like an office area. Soon thereafter, I was among three septuagenarian couples who knew each other to varying degrees. I learned from one couple that I would be in Albuquerque during the Balloon Festival and I'd never get an RV site. "Where do you stay?" I asked, then immediately booked the night using my KOA app. I also learned from them that there is a product called "Awesome" which dissolves bug guts from RVs. I immediately bought that on my Amazon app, then I was chastised for paying too much - it's only a dollar at the Dollar Store in Salmon! But, I don't have a car!

Sidebar: If you are twenty- or thirty-something stop tanning right now. Women who sunbathe throughout their lives end up looking like their husbands’ mothers by the time they are seventy. I learned that tonight, too, but my companions didn’t use words to convey that information.

My female neighbor cooked two chicken breasts on a George Forman grill, either for efficiency or because there is a man inside the trailer. I haven't seen him, and she does not pause at the doorway to talk to anyone. If he's in there, he's either the laziest mother-fucker on the planet or she has him duct-taped to a chair and she's going to smother the chicken in Velveeta and Doritos and make him watch her eat it while she watches "The Young and the Restless." If so, he will himself dead before the sun goes down.

I cooked a piece of fish in the oven. In 13 minutes at 350 degrees, it shrank to half its size – another reason not to go outside tomorrow.

There is no cell service here. The Wi-Fi is very good, but we aren't allowed to stream – which makes me want to do it. Last night in Polson, I watched part of "A Beautiful Mind" before switching to "Gladiator" because it's easier for me to watch Russell Crowe succumb to physical rather than psychological torture. After dinner tonight I tried to stream "Elizabeth." Cate Blanchett has the most melodious voice of any contemporary female actress and I felt like listening to her. I got five minutes of viewing intervals between buffers which allowed me to do my chores. But, after 10 minutes of the movie, I ran out of chores and quit.

​The woman next door took in her laundry. Maybe the t-shirt wasn't as big as I thought, and maybe the high-tops are hers: maybe, like me, she is alone.