Some Idaho history we received today

The following was received from my brother-in-law, a trustworthy citized to be sure:

" I was talking to an old timer yesterday and he told me some things about Idaho that I hadn't heard before. I'm sure it's true because we have two museums within 30 miles. Another thing that makes me trust him is that I noted that he caried squirrel food in his pocket. I found out later from another neighbor, the one down the street that lives under a cow, that he uses the food to lure squirrels close enough to hit them with a stick. I think he eats them; he used to feed them to his cat but last winter was hard with the recession an all and he ate the cat. He wears the skin now as underpants. "Don't need no new fangled bathroom because the cat was housebroken". Anyway, back to the story I haven't started yet.

During pioneer days, there was a small town just south of the current Idaho border named Grumph. Back in those days global warming hadn't happened yet to cause the border to migrate northward, and so it truely is Idaho history. Anyway, Grumph was a small town; there were only 20 people living there and they were extrordinarily unfriendly, probably because there was only enough lumber to build one outhouse and the boards in the seat were ROUGH. Among the buildings in town was a Catholic church, built there because catholics don't have maps in their navels; Sister Winnefred lived there. She was friendly and kind to everyone, probably because nuns dont use outhouses.

Just to the south of Grumph was a large swampy area that covered many square miles. The area today is dry as an english teachers fart; the swampy area was sold long since by real estate blood suckers to some early ancestors of Michal Jaskson, who lived in California. The story goes that one day when everyone was out back of the Grumph activities center picking farkle berries, an Indian from a village located just across the swamp staggered into town. It was immediately obvious that he either had his moccasons on the wrong feet or he was in need of help. He told the people of Grumph that he had spent the last three days walking and running around the swamp to ask for help. An illness had overtaken all of the people in his village and since he was the strongest, he was sent for help. Only the people of Grumpf had a medicine that would cure the disease, and that was farkle berry juice. Farkle berries had been imported from Miami where they were used as sunscreen, so they didn't grow elsewhere in the area.

When all of the Grumphians had heard the plea for help, they immediatly decided on a course of action. They told the indian that he should tell his story to someone who "gives a rats appendage". However, Sister Winnefred, having read The Perils of Pauline and other philosophical literary works, insisted that help must be sent to the indian village. Finally, the most kindly man in town agreed to take medicine to the Indians. However, he said he refused to make his horse run because sweaty horses stink. Also, he "warnt gwin bury no unchristian injuns just cause they died". That wasn't good enough for Sister Winnefred, however, so she decided to also make the trip, but she decided to cross the swamp on foot because it was too difficult for a horse. She estimated she could make the trip in one day if she really tried, unlike the three days that it would take the horse walker.

Sister Winnefred and mister walker set of on their journey of mercy at the same time, but in different directions because he "warnt no catholic". Progress was difficult from the start for sister Winnefred. She stepped in a puddle, a bug walked on her and it was just ikky. As she forced herself to continue, things just got worse. The vines and bugs became thicker, she fell down in a muddy place and darkness approached. She didn't slow her pace or even consider turning back; she refused to kick the habbit. Soon, it was fully dark and she could hear the constant whine of blood sucking insects, the croaking of frogs, and the drunken shouts of teenagers. But she kept the pace, even tho she often fell, was scratched by thorny plants and was constantly attacked by mosquitoes as large as kittens. All night Sister Winnefred pushed on, approaching exhaustion, being unsure of her path toward the striken village. Finally, a glimmer of dawn began to be visible. It was almost noon when Sister Winnefred staggered out of the swawp and into the indian village, but she had arrived just in time to save the people.

There was no time for rest after the ordeal of the swamp and Sister Winnefred immediately began preparation and application of the medicine she had brought. By evening, everyone in the village, including Sister Winnefred, was resting comfortably, if you consider sleeping on a skunk skin as comfort. By noon the following day, everyone was groggy but thankful to be alive.

Everyone in the village wanted to show their gratitude for what Sister Winnefred had done for them, so they called a town hall meeting to discuss the health care situation. By general consensus, they decided that there was only a single course of action. Everyone who has watched a western knows that the greatest honer an indian tribe can bestow on a honkey in funny cloths is to adopt them into the tribe and to give them an indian name. Western watchers also know that indian names are always reflect a characteristic of the honored person at the time of naming, and that is what they did.

Later, after Sister Winnefred had made her way back to Grumph, and mister walker had told her story to all of the inhabitants, the townspeople also wanted to honor the intrepid nun. These people, as did the indians, called a town hall meeting to decide the best way to honor Sister Winnefred. Not unlike the indians, they decided to rename the town in her honor, and to insure that none would forget her brave deed, they decided her new indian name would be most appropriate. That little town of Grumph still exists today in northern Nevada, just a short distance from the Idaho border, but nowdays the name on the map is Winne mucca. Too bad that indian tribe died of diptheria brought by Sister Winnefred. But that's another story."

Pre-trip Planning

Lee posting: Our cross-continent trip to view the fall season in the northeast is exactly one month away. We will begin by visiting our kids in Oregon and Washington, then make a one-day hop to Polson, MT, from which we head north to Canada to follow Canadian Highway 1 all the way to Nova Scotia, with side trips on the way. We will have the laptop with us, and a digital camera to record the scenery and events, which we plan to share on a regular basis thanks to wifi at the motels.

Years of experience making long trips have taught us the value of making thoughtful lists, careful packing, auto servicing, etc. A big advantage we will have this trip is that we won't have the dogs, as we have a house-sitter who will take good care of them. It is kind of amazing how much this will simplify our packing and planning.

Charlie posting: Thank goodness for sticky notes as from the main list the second stage of notes begin. Right now am working on the food box list. We are planning to curtail expenses some by picnicing and forraging along the way but there are things litk salt&pepper we will need to carry.

The travel maps came a couple of days ago so we are having fun looking for side trips. Looking at those maps it appears that we need a year to see it all. Oh well, we will be able to check off some thing on our bucket list.