I Smell the Smelly Smell of a Smelly Kobi!

Scones are odd pastries. A blob of flower mixed with some stuff, cooked and then covered lightly with a bit of frosting. With coffee on a cold morning, eating a scone can be like eating a meal cooked by Wolfgang Puck. Ok, not quite but it sure is fun to get a cup of freshly dripped coffee and sit in the camper looking out over the lake and slowly consume a scone.

We drove down to Hayburn State Park and clamed one of our two favorite spots for the weekend. I debated about where we should go. I really wanted to head on down to the Snake or Clearwater Rivers and fish for steal head. We were packed and ready at 3:30 pm but it takes Linda a bit of time to get home, so as the time passed I considered the drive and how I was feeling and decided to make the short trip to the south end of the lake.

The short drive down to the park was uneventful. We caught up on the past day and comforted each other expressing that it was another week into the school year and closer to Mexico. When we reached Plummer, ID Linda called Mike Wassmuth and wished him a happy birthday. His birthday is Saturday, but Linda didn’t know if we would have phone coverage at the park. Mike and Linda have a tradition of calling each other on their birthdays – no matter where we all happen to be. That started after our Grand Canyon trip and has continued. Mike was down on the Clearwater River fishing and told us he had caught two fish, a 38” and a 36” both wild that he turned loose. It was a good day and he was staying until dark to see if he could limit out. I was a bit jealous, but I understand that someday I’ll get my chances at fishing for the big guys.

In the park we took a drive around the two loops and chose our campsite. It took a bit to get level but all in all it is a very private site with a good view of Lake Chatcolett, looking north to Coeur d’Alene. We walked the dog and then when we came back I made dinner. We ate Chicken Alfredo and salad then played cribbage. Linda won handily, nothing unusual, and by that time we were both ready for bed.

At about 5 AM we woke to the shots of the duck hunters down in the bay. Usually Linda gets up at the sounds of the guns and goes running, but today she rolled over and went back to sleep. We both slept until 8:30 AM, highly unusual for the Bennett’s. Linda has been burning the candle at both ends getting her workouts in, walking the dog and doing everything it takes to be a teacher. Sleeping to 8:30 AM could do nothing but help her so I was glad it happened.

Once we woke up Linda went for her run and I built a fire so she could sit by it when she returned. I let Kobi out and we played ring toss for the next two hours. Throw the ring or the ball it doesn’t matter which one, he will fetch it forever.

The sun broke through the fog and was hitting the docks so I grabbed my fishing rod and Linda grabbed her chair and we walked down to sit in the sun and relax. Linda walked onto the dock and set up her chair; I dropped my tackle box and tied on a spinner bate. Kobi ran directly by us both and out to the end of the dock where he immediately lowered his head and rolled on top of the biggest, smelliest, grosses, rotten northern pike you could imagine. Linda saw the whole thing and without hesitation called him back to her. He came right back, but the damage was done. Kobi was so excited. He knew that he smelled so bad; all the other dogs in camp would be envious. He sat right next to Linda and wiggled. She could not stand the odor and felt the need to wash him off. I just wanted to go fishing so I finished tying on the lure and started tossing and reeling all around the weed beds. Linda scrubbed the dog with her hand, dipping water from the lake, taking care not to get him too wet, but to get the guts off. When she finished she said “ok” and Kobi immediately jumped into the lake. Linda forgot that “ok” was Kobi’s go word and if he is being held for anything, “ok” means Jump, run, attack, swim.

I heard the splash and saw Kobi swimming towards me so I put down the pole and Linda and I helped him back up on the dock. Linda said she still smelled the dead fish so I got the bright Idea to throw a stick into the water so he could wash himself off. My mistake was that I thought he would swim to the low spot on the dock and climb up there. No, he had to swim into shore through the gunk and mud and then climb up on the dock and come to us. By the time he got back to us he looked like a black lab with a little yellow head. Things were not going well, Linda’s hands smelled like dead fish, Kobi looked like a Labrador retriever so I pulled in my spinner bate to give up fishing. As I went to untie the lure from the line, I noticed that in my haste and the confusion of the stinky fish slime down, I had forgotten to take the plastic hook protector off the point of the hook. So even if I had gotten a strike when I fished, the fish would have spit the lure out and waved good bye to me. With our adventure to the dock fraught with misfortune we managed to get the dog cleaned and we made a hasty retreat to the camper so Linda could wash her hands (about a thousand times.)

As Linda worked her hands over, I started preparing dinner. I had clipped a recipe for chicken pot pie from the news paper and was anxious to give it a try. I chopped and cut and mixed until I got the filling prepared and then set it in the refrigerator until it was time to bake. My plan was to use this recipe as a display meal in the Dutch oven when we camp with some of our friends. It had to be knock-your-socks-off-good to be one of my display meals. Come dinner time I did the final preparation of the crusts and put the meal in the oven to bake. Linda and I played cards anticipating the meal, and when it was time, we pulled the pot and checked it out.

We filled our plates and took a taste. For the next fifteen minutes we tried to put our finger on what could be done to make the pie better. More liquids? It was a bit dry. Less zest of lemon? It was a bit over powering. Maybe add some cream of chicken soup or chicken broth? We just couldn’t decide where I went wrong, the Chicken Pot Pie had the texture of stuffing mix with an over powering bite of lemon in the back ground. Bummer, back to the drawing board.

We ate our meal and then set up the TV/DVD and watched Invictus. It always makes me laugh to think we drive down to a park and then end our evening watching a movie. Ain’t life grand!