30 August - Hope, ID

Today has been exceptionally nice for bicycling. The lady at the motel in Newport told me to take Old Priest Road instead of 2 to Sandpoint. This took me almost 10 miles out of the way, but I had very little traffic and the wind was at my back more than 3/4 of the way. Wind makes a tremendous difference. On Friday I could barely make 11 mph on level ground, while going north on 95 with the wind at my back I was doing 20 mph without much trying.

I also had a very good lunch. Tri-color tortellinis in a lemon butter sauce with capers. Following someone’s advice in the pub I have been on Idaho route 200 this afternoon, which follows the Pend-Oreille lake east into Montana. From there I will being north towards Libby and Kalispell. Tonight’s accommodations are at the Samowen USFS campground. It looks like rain so I have set up the tent. There are a lot of deer around. Probably people feed them. I hope they have not fed the bears as I have no desire for my nice red rainproof panniers to be disemboweled. So far only yellowjackets have seemed interested.

Art is creation, as I think I have said before. What distinguishes great art from mediocrity is merely the level of reality that art possesses. There are levels of art and levels of existence—perhaps I should try to catalogue them. Reality is of a higher order than existence, I think though. Great art is not merely unique in the sense of being novel. It is unique in the sense of being inimitable. It is also solid, speaks for itself, lives its own reality, pays for what it is and does, and is above all loved by the artist.

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