Yes, it was warm (mid-80s) for yesterday’s (Sat., 7-6) 50-mile ride from Noxon, MT to Sandpoint, ID (pop. 7,365), but that’s not what I mean by “fire in Idaho.” I’ll explain that after I tell you about my trip to get there.

My last few miles in Montana took me to the environs of Hebron, MT (pop. 282) alongside the Cabinet Gorge Reservoir.

I’d like to introduce you to Hugo, a cyclist from Belgium I met while he was taking a break next to the Reservoir. He is headed for New York City. I asked Hugo where he began his trip. Although his starting point in North America was British Columbia, Canada, Hugo has been biking in the Philippines, Malaysia, Saudi Arabia, and in several countries in Africa and South America, among other places in the world too numerous to mention. I asked if he would be returning to Belgium after visiting New York, he said, “oh no, I am going back to Asia.”

Hugo commented on my “old bike.” His bike is his seventh, a gravel bike, and he said it is the best bike ever–expensive, but well worth it. He transports this bike around the globe with him. I noted the stuffed animal mascot he carries on top of his packs, and he said this is more than 30 years old. Hugo is 60.

Hugo bikes every day and doesn’t allow himself a day off, although he said he made an exception after negotiating three mountain passes in the State of Washington (something I have ahead of me). I was in awe of the extraordinary distances Hugo has been traveling by bike and marveled at this. I asked him if he is or will be telling his story to an online audience or plans to write a book about what he’s doing, and he responded that he has no interest in that. He said (please imagine this in a French accent): “Anyone can do this. Maybe only 10 miles per day. So what?”

I crossed the Montana-Idaho border around noon. Here are some of the signs that told me I was now in Idaho.

Remember all the stickers I saw on the “Welcome to Montana” sign a few weeks ago? Well, Idaho has stickers on their welcome sign too. This is definitely a thing.

Speed limits on two-lane highways in Montana are generally 70 mph. That changes when you enter Idaho. Not a bad change of pace when you are on a bike moving a lot more slowly alongside that traffic.

I thought this was a very neighborly greeting to trucks on this stretch of Hwy 200.

As a potato man, I admire the Idaho license plates that advertise its famous spuds.

Hey, what’s this? A Montana plate here in Idaho? This car clearly belongs to someone with an attitude from that state, and you definitely don’t want to ask to change the station when he’s driving the car.

I guess this is a sign the highway department puts up when there are wild animals crossing the road, but they’re either too numerous to identify or the department is not sure what they are.

There were a few hills today, but on the whole, the terrain was fairly tame, especially for being surrounded by mountains. Sandpoint, ID is in the midst of the Selkirk, Cabinet, and Bitterroot ranges.

Before reaching Clark Fork, ID (pop. 536), where I had lunch, I hit a stretch of several miles of Hwy 200 adorned with old junk cars and trucks. I learned online that after one landowner did this some years back, several others joined in, each seeking to outdo the others in their displays. It was a bit jarring to see old rusting cars piled up against the rugged cliffs behind them, but some of the cars are presented in interesting and artistic ways.

Much of today’s ride was along Lake Pend Oreille, a 43-mile-long waterway with 111 miles of shoreline. For you Francophones out there who may think you know how to pronounce the name of the lake, the spelling for a town on the lake informs the world how it is pronounced by locals: Ponderay.

As I got closer to Sandpoint, I crossed the Pack River.

I saw these two stand-up paddleboarders on the Pack traveling with two dogs and a child on their boards. I learned that this fast-growing sport is also known by the acronym “SUP.”

One of them waved at me, so of course I waved back.

My route into Sandpoint was on several bike trails which as I got close to town ran along a bay of Lake Pend Oreille. This was a pleasant place to be on a bike except that there was virtually no signage explaining where I was.

I was in frequent contact with my Chief Navigator Trudi to make sure I was heading the right way, especially when I encountered signs like this one that appeared (incorrectly) to indicate that I wasn’t.

I did no biking today (Sun. 7-7), and used my time to explore Sandpoint a bit, do laundry, and visit a bike shop for a mini tune up of my finicky derailleur. I was impressed by the public art on display around the town, like this work entitled “At Rivers Edge.”

Or like this colorful bike sculpture, by an unidentified artist.

I learned that the bike sculpture is also a popular structure for children to climb.

And how about this ceramic mural entitled “Bugs, Butterflies, and Wildflowers,” created by third and fourth graders and their adult collaborators?

I took my bike to the Alpine Shop to get my tire pressure back up to 90 psi and have the derailleur adjusted a bit.

Here is TJ working on the bike, and Andre, who pumped up my tires. They were both very helpful. I spoke with them and one of their colleagues about the route ahead, which is likely going to require that I do some camping as I get close to Washington Pass about a week and a half from now.

As you can see from the front-page headline in the July 6 Bonner County Daily Bee, there was a fire in downtown Sandpoint on July 4 (reported at 10:15 p.m.), only a block away from my hotel, that destroyed the Army Surplus store.

The Army Surplus store was located next door to the Bizarre Bazaar and the Pie Hut, but the fire did not spread to these structures.

There is no official explanation yet for what triggered the fire, but a clerk at the gas station next door to the motel says he understands some kids had set off a Roman candle that ignited a wooden pole next to the building, which then caught on fire. Parts of the building were over 100 years old and constructed with timbers treated with creosote as a preservative. The owner of the building is quoted in the news story as saying: “It’s just wonderful how the community has reached out. I’m really grateful. We’re just trying to figure out what we’re going to do now.”

I had several excellent meals yesterday and today at Connie’s Cafe, located only a couple blocks away from my motel. Connie’s has been in business since 1955.

I talked with one of the waitresses at the restaurant about this sign on display behind the counter, which is believed to date back to the mid-1960s or early 1970s.

The waitress I spoke with said her mom passed away about a month ago and as she (the waitress) was going through some of her mom’s things, she found a W-2 statement issued by Connie’s to her mother dated 1964, 60 years ago. Her mom had been a waitress at the same restaurant. I asked if the restaurant had changed a lot since her mom worked there, and she said, “not much.” (Other than the prices, I suppose.)

My sojourn in Idaho is going to be brief. Sandpoint is in the Idaho panhandle, a very narrow part of the state, and tomorrow’s ride (approximately 31 miles) will take me to Newport, WA (pop. 2,126), just across the western border.