Nicky's Notes: Metaline Falls

Riding north on WA Hwy 31, the recommendation I received from the nice lady at the tourist information stop was to spend the night in Metaline Falls, WA, about 20 miles from the Canadian border crossing. A highway sign warned that the border crossing was only open during daylight hours, and this little town was the last stop before the border.

Borders are an odd thing to me, in many places unmarked, just a line on a map. Our southern border is much more apparent and the differences are vast. Up here, culture is similar and the most noticeable differences are the phone service, money, and the metric system.

Metaline Falls is a quirky little town of about 200 people. Once a large mining and cement manufacturing hub, today it's a beautiful, quiet hideaway. Its' claim to fame is the Kevin Costner flop of a movie, The Postman. The movie was filmed here, and there is a nice tribute in the sometimes used train station. On weekends, in the summer, a vintage steam train takes tourists into the mountains.

The most unusual thing to me was that there were a significant number of displaced indigent people living here. I was told that the state of Washington offers free or reduced rent housing in an old but well kept apartment building left over from the days when a large factory was still in operation. There were dozens of people living in the building; unemployed, without transportation, but seemingly content to draw their unemployment, medicaid, or disability and live a simple life. I met one resident, oddly enough born in Garland, TX. She had re-located from a life in Alaska to this quiet little town. Her story was an epic tale, and her weathered appearance bore the signs of a life lived hard. She was reluctant to have her photo taken, however I snapped one when she wasn't looking.

Needless to say, lodging was minimal. The one motel outside of town, near a state park, had the "NO VACANCY" sign lit, so I tried the only other place, The Washington Hotel. The sign on the unlocked door directed me across the street to the local bar for info. Inquiring, the bartender said there were plenty of rooms available, in fact I was the only guest, and it was $40 cash for the night. "Pick any clean room", she said. "Bathroom is down the hall; the owner will be back tomorrow."

Following the signs pointing upstairs, I found a place straight out of the "40's, in my mind. About 12 rooms along a long hallway, a communal bathroom and showers, and a feeling that it had been a while since any other guests had been brave enough to spend the night. My chosen room was clean with fresh sheets and towels, and a fan in the open window. No lock on the door, no lock on the entrance downstairs, and a distinct feeling I had wandered not into the Hotel Washington, but Hotel California.

Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)
Such a lovely face
They livin' it up at the Hotel California
What a nice surprise (what a nice surprise)
Bring your alibis

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
"Relax, " said the night man,
"We are programmed to receive.
You can check-out any time you like,
But you can never leave! "

As you can see I was able to leave, after a fitful night's sleep, and plenty of memories to share.

Cindy's Cafe next door served a wonderful breakfast, with several trucks full of fire fighters converging on the place as soon as the doors opened at 7am. Three firefighters had died a few miles away the day before having been caught behind a fire line, and these brave men and women were gearing up for another day of danger and duty. God bless them and all the others that were risking their lives.

With the bike loaded, and a full stomach, I set out for Canada and an exciting ride through the Canadian mountains. To be continued....................