Fiddle Creek Fruit
One of the lessons learned again today is not to assume that a short ride means an easy ride. Another is not to assume that stores in small towns stay open late, as in past 5 p.m.
After leaving the town of Riggins, I started out on the 30 mile journey towards White Bird. I properly got some laundry done (in a machine) and hung out at the local library writing the last post. It was nearly 1:00 when I left. Just up the road I saw that I was re-entering the Pacific time zone, so it was now noon again. I’ll be back in the mountain time zone in a couple of days.
The road follows the river along highway 95. This particular portion of the route is rather unexciting compared to what I’ve been seeing. There are no big pines and also no green farmland to speak of. It’s just dry and hot. Very hot. I thought that since there was not much elevation change that the ride would be a breeze, but it ended up being much more work that I anticipated.
About ten miles in I saw a sign advertising fresh huckleberries and other fruits. Shortly after that I crossed over Fiddle Creek and then saw the Fiddle Creek Fruit Stand. What a business this was. It’s much more than a fruit stand. It’s a big place. You walk in and it’s filled with aisles of fruit in baskets, jars of jam, honey, pie filling, cut up fruit samples, cold drinks, and for good measure there’s a hardware store on the other end. A very amazing place that had a very authentic feel.
The kid behind the counter, who couldn’t have been more than fourteen, was courteous and offered me samples of cherries and peaches. Soon after, an older man, maybe 75, came out of nowhere looking like he had been pulled off a western movie set. Old blue jeans, plaid shirt and neckerchief. By now more people had come in. “Folks, we’ve got fresh peach samples and cherries. Help yourself, please.”
I went up to him and asked if this was his business. “Yes it is. I started it forty years ago. I planted all the trees myself.” You could tell he was proud of the operation, and rightfully so. All the jars had Fiddle Creek Fruit Stand on the label. Now multiple generations of the family run it.
I went out to get my camera and came back in to take a few photos. The old man had finished helping a customer and I asked if I could take a photo of him. “First, let me give you a picture,” he said. Then he reached for a postcard with an aerial view of the stand and pointed out where the stand was, where the trees were planted and also an old wagon trail that was used long ago.
We introduced ourselves and I got a photo of Jim. After some conversation, I went to pick out a couple of peaches and a drink. As one of the grandsons rang it up I saw Jim in a back room talking to someone. I decided not to interrupt him and turned to leave, but a couple seconds later I hear “Dan, you take it easy!” Nice guy.
The remaining 20 miles were very hot and fairly windy. I arrived in White Bird, population listed as 91, which has a bar, a restaurant and a general store. I got a Gatorade immediately upon arriving with the intention of returning later for supplies for a very long climb first thing in the morning, which will be 2500 feet in the first twelve miles.
After having dinner at Red’s River Cafe (where it’s Taco Tuesday), I returned to the general store around 5:45, only to find that she had closed. I have the ever present emergency trail mix (Jim’s peaches were already eaten), but that’s not enough. With no store or restaurant open before nine tomorrow morning it was back to Red’s to buy a sandwich for the pre-ride breakfast.