A Few Days at Beavercreek Campground

Our last visit to Beavercreek Campground on Priest Lake was back in August of 2022. That trip was spent with our good friends the Andersons, soaking in the views of the lake and wandering the trails around the campground. This week we found ourselves back in that same peaceful spot, only this time we were joined by our friends John and Loretta Sutherland.

Looking northeast into the Selkirks.

The weather showed off for us — blue skies, warm sun, and just enough breeze to keep the mosquitoes guessing. We stayed three nights, settling into that easy rhythm that only camping seems to create. Evenings were spent in camp chairs, swapping stories, solving the world’s problems, and laughing about everything else we couldn’t solve.

Each morning Linda would head out for her daily walk and return with a new story or observation from her adventures — sometimes about wildlife, sometimes about people, and occasionally about something only Linda could spot in the woods. I took a long walk myself, following the lake trail south. I managed to get close to a lake‑access camp area in Teacher Bay. That bay was my goal, but I had been out for quite a while, and eventually I turned around and hustled back to our campsite before anyone sent out a search party.

There were hundreds of butterflies.

We spent most of our time relaxing or playing cards. One thing we did notice was the large number of trees that had blown down during winter. It must have been a harsh one, but the landscape has been recovering nicely, with new growth already filling in the gaps.

For our evening meals we enjoyed three very tasty delights. On the first night we had an easy‑to‑fix standby of soup (clam chowder), salad, and cookies. The second meal was a bit international — Greek gyros. We cooked up some lamb, added feta cheese, tzatziki, and lettuce, and wrapped it all in a warm pita. Simple, delicious, and perfect for camping. Our final meal was traditional barbecue hamburgers, but boy, were they good.

On the drive home we were treated to one of those moments that instantly upgrades a trip: a bull moose sighting. We were heading south along one of my favorite stretches of highway when something dark stepped out of the brush and into a wide green clearing. Sure enough — a bull moose, antlers still covered in velvet and looking like he owned the place.

I slowed the camper and found a wide spot to pull over. After putting the truck in park, I hopped out and walked to the back of the rig just in time to see him step onto the road and stroll across the asphalt like he had an appointment on the other side. We were probably 500 yards away, but there was no mistaking that silhouette. I managed to get a few photos with the phone — proof for anyone who thinks moose are just mythical creatures invented by the Idaho tourism board.

There’s something about spotting wildlife in the middle of a trip that adds a little spark to the day. It’s a reminder that these places are alive, and that sometimes the best moments are the ones you don’t plan.

As we rolled the rest of the way home, I found myself thinking about how lucky we are to have places like Priest Lake close by — places where a few days of simple living, good friends, and a surprise moose can reset the soul. Trips don’t have to be long or complicated to be memorable. Sometimes all it takes is a quiet campground, a few shared meals, and the beauty of Idaho doing what it does best.

Big cone, small cone.

Peeling hard boiled eggs.

Bull moose crossing!

The end of the camping adventure.

DB/AI

Victoria, BC — Four Days of Views, Wandering, and Mild Confusion

Last year, our 40th anniversary was interrupted by my back surgery, so when our 41st year together arrived, we celebrated by taking the trip to Victoria, BC that we were unable to make earlier.

It was another early‑morning flight out of Spokane, our destination Victoria, British Columbia, by way of Seattle. The flights were as normal as you could hope for at that hour — uneventful, slightly uncomfortable, and fueled mostly by determination and airport coffee.

When we landed, we grabbed a cab to the Victoria Regent Waterfront Hotel and Suites. Our suite was on the 3rd floor and looked out over the harbor. There was something happening all the time, so it was hard not to get transfixed on the view. We barely set our bags down before heading out in search of food.

This is the view from our patio. WOW!

We crossed the bike lane, dodged traffic, and found a great spot called The Local. After that, we decided to pick up groceries for breakfasts and snacks. This is where things got interesting.

Harbor activity. We could watch for hours!

With Google Maps open and no reading glasses between us, Linda somehow ended up leading the expedition — surprising, since she has absolutely no sense of direction. I followed behind, squinting at the blurry map like it was an eye exam. Undaunted by our lack of equipment or navigational skill, we eventually stumbled upon a market. We grabbed seven items, paid far too much for them, and headed back feeling victorious.

By late afternoon, we were fading fast. We’d been up since 3 a.m. We walked to the nearest Subway, bought a 12‑inch sandwich and two cookies, and called it dinner. As soon as the sun went down, so did we.

The next morning’s breakfast was simple — cereal, bananas, yogurt, and coffee — before meeting our tour bus to Butchart Gardens. We climbed aboard the bus, and our driver immediately launched into a wonderful introduction to the history of Victoria. As she drove, she pointed out parks, houses, statues, and the stories behind them. She was entertaining, knowledgeable, and made the ride a rolling history lesson. By the time we arrived, we knew far more about Victoria — and the Butchart family — than we expected. She was wonderful.

We enjoyed every inch of the gardens and took far too many photos of flowers. After a couple of hours of wandering, we filled the remaining time with a snack break. I was in charge of buying a pastry and my coffee, but instead I returned with a coffee, a chocolate chip cookie for Linda, and a scone I thought was a muffin.

Meanwhile, Linda went to get change, but the girl at the counter said she couldn’t make change from the till. However, she could make change if Linda bought a pastry. So Linda bought a apricot pastry, got her change, and then the girl informed her she could also get change at the information booth.

We laughed at how unnecessarily complicated the whole thing was and enjoyed our treats before heading back to the bus.

When we weren’t out exploring the city, we spent time on our balcony or inside our suite watching the harbor. Seaplanes came and went, water taxis zipped around, sailboats docked, and yachts cruised by. Mixed in were kayaks, canoes, and just about every floating thing you can imagine. It was endlessly entertaining — like our own waterfront theater.

Butchart Gardens in Spring bloom.

Our next day was filled with more exploring. We purchased tickets for the Hop On–Hop Off bus and boarded around 10:30 a.m. The idea behind the HO‑HO bus is simple: buy your tickets ($65 American), get on or off at any stop, see the sights, and continue whenever you’re ready. The pass is good for 24 hours from your first hop‑on.

The drivers played pre‑programmed history tidbits throughout the tour, but they weren’t nearly as interesting as the stories we heard on the gardens tour. We also found that many of the places we stopped cost extra admission, adding to the cost of the tour.

After riding the full loop, we decided to strike out on our own. We walked to the Chinatown district and wandered through the shops. Our exploration took us through Fan Tan Alley and eventually led us to a small restaurant where we shared a lunch.

Much of our time we spent walking, shopping, and enjoying goodies. The people watching was excellent and the weather was simply amazing. Everything Linda had planned came off without a hitch. Air flights, taxis, Uber trips, everything. The ultimate adventure for our 40th anniversary in our 41st year.

Hop-On Hop-Off bus tour.

Entry to Fan Tan Alley.

Adventures await in the Alley.

Grand entrance to Chinatown.

Our lunch stop, Fan Tan Cafe. So good!

Coffee and treats at Murchie's.

Great Thai Chicken pizza.

This looked like a water taxi hatch. So busy.

DB/AI

Let's Go to Florida!

From South Beach to the Seven Mile Bridge: An Idahoan’s Journey Through the Keys

The Andersons pulled up at 1:30 a.m., which is a time of day I normally reserve for sleeping or regretting late‑night snacks. But off we went, bleary‑eyed, to the Spokane Park‑n‑Ride and then on to the airport. Security was smooth for most of us — except Linda, who apparently didn’t make the TSA’s Preferred Human List that morning. She got the full “please remove everything you’ve ever owned” treatment, but she handled it like a champ.

Two flights later — Spokane to Portland, Portland to Miami — we arrived in Florida feeling exactly like people who had been awake for a week. The flights were long, boring, and mildly uncomfortable, which is to say: perfectly normal.

South Beach: Art Deco, Estefan Style

Our first two nights were spent at the Hotel Cardozo on South Beach, a beautifully restored Art Deco landmark owned by Gloria Estefan herself. The building dates back to 1939, and like many of the pastel beauties along Ocean Drive, it’s part of the largest concentration of Art Deco architecture in the world.

The room was… minimalist. Stark. Cold. And there wasn’t a single picture or bit of décor on the walls whatsoever. But it was clean, stylish, and perfect for two nights.

We wandered South Beach, people‑watching and marveling at the outfits. Idahoans are not built for this level of fashion risk. I’m pretty sure some of the swimsuits we saw were held together by hope and dental floss.

Our two‑day adventure in South Beach was packed with fun, food, and more people‑watching than any of us were prepared for. On our last night, dinner revived us, and then we collapsed into bed and faded into dreamland.

The Great Rental Car Saga

The next morning our Uber driver delivered us to the Mex Car Rentals lot. Mike had taken the recommendation of an internet vacation discount site and Mex Car was the one provided by his research. Arriving at Mex, Mike was leery about the rental service when he was directed into a cubicle and was greeted by a very hard‑to‑understand video image of a woman who desperately wanted to rent us a car. Things did not go well, and the final straw was when the woman told Mike he needed to provide a $2500 deposit. For a car. Not to buy it — just to borrow it.

By 1:00 p.m., we were at Avis, enjoying air‑conditioning and chairs that didn’t leave imprints on our backsides. Mike and Rayelle returned triumphantly with keys to a brand‑new Chevy Traverse. We trekked from Level 4 to Level 2 because the escalators were broken and the elevators were packed. When we finally reached spot A18… no car. Eventually Mike found it in H18, which is basically the same thing if you’re dyslexic or optimistic.

On to the Keys

Our first stop was Alabama Jack’s, a legendary open‑air bar perched on the edge of the mangroves. It’s been around since the 1950s and is famous for conch fritters, cold beer, and the kind of characters who look like they’ve been there since the late ’60s. We took photos and moved on before we became part of the décor.

Next up: Betsy the Lobster, a 30‑foot fiberglass crustacean guarding the Rain Barrel Village in Islamorada.

At Robbie’s Marina, we watched brave (or foolish) tourists feed tarpon — giant, prehistoric‑looking fish that can grow to 8 feet long. One guy tried to be cool for his kids and walked away with a bloody hand and shaken nerves. At the entry gate, a kid got ambushed by pelicans who had clearly perfected this attack over many seasons. Bait fish flew everywhere and disappeared off the dock in seconds.

We then made our way to our VRBO rental in Marathon — a four‑bedroom, three‑bath home with a big, comfortable living space, a well‑equipped kitchen, and a backyard pool overlooking a peaceful boating canal. It became our home base for sunning, relaxing, talking politics, solving silly issues, and planning future adventures.

Fishing, Beaches, and Weather That Couldn’t Decide

Monday was fishing day, so we drove north to Islamorada where Mike, Ron and I met our guide, Juan. The weather was windy and scattered showers moved across the sky. Juan took us out to net our live bait, and then we hung on for our lives as he weaved us through the mangroves at 35 mph. When the rain caught us, we ducked under the highway bridge and fished the currents.

Snapper were caught by all of us, but I got lucky and hooked a 36‑inch snook — a once‑in‑a‑lifer, according to Juan.

The ladies spent their day at Sombrero Beach, which was windy and rainy but still beautiful.

The four ladies had a delicious lunch at Herbie’s which included clam chowder (Linda gave it a 7, Julia an 8), conch fritters, conch chowder, and wings.

That night we cooked half the fish we caught and ate like responsible anglers.

Some day I'll get a photo with the top of my head in it!

A Manatee Named Grace

The next day I stayed home while the group went to a farmers' market. Linda returned with a beach towel and treats.

Later, while everyone was gathered by the pool, one of our top bucket‑list hopes appeared: a manatee. She heard the spray from the hose and glided over like a gentle gray submarine. She stayed for about 20 minutes, drinking fresh water and washing her face while the ladies gave her a spa treatment.

We named her Grace, because she moved with it.

Seven Mile Bridge, Fred the Tree, and Key Deer

The next day we took our big drive south. We crossed the Seven Mile Bridge, spotted Fred the Tree growing stubbornly out of concrete, and visited Big Pine Key, home of the tiny, adorable Key deer.

Key West: The Grand Finale

In Key West we walked Duval Street, visited Mallory Square, and stopped at Margaritaville for shirts. Dinner at Harpoon Harry’s was excellent. We visited the Southernmost Point Buoy, which is neither the actual southernmost point nor a buoy, but it’s iconic and makes for a great photo.

Mike did a great job driving us back to our cottage. We appreciate all the driving he did on this adventure.

Fred the Tree!

A Big Pine Key, Key Deer.

Welcome to Key West!

The southernmost point buoy 
That is not at the southernmost point.

A Quiet Friday and a Grateful Goodbye

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It was Friday, and we spent an easy, relaxing day around the pool — packing a little, visiting, laughing, and heading out for one last meal together before the evening settled in. It was the kind of slow, gentle day that lets a great trip sink in

As we settled in for our last evening, I couldn’t help but feel grateful — for the laughter, the surprises, the weather that kept us guessing, and the good friends who make every mile of the journey worth taking. It had been a week of stories, sunshine, unexpected moments, and the kind of shared experiences that stay with you long after the suitcases are unpacked.

A special thanks to the Andersons, Sharon, and Ron for making this trip so memorable — their laughter, energy, and good company turned every day into something worth remembering.

DB/AI