Sandpoint, elderberries, plums, and RAG's: October 9

Oh, the joys of owning a 30-year old classic car… Butter had her manifold redone back in Springfield, which cost me a pretty penny.  This morning, after climbing trees to reach the gianormous clusters of black elderberries that dangled from the wiry limbs on our route through Montana and into Idaho, we started her up.  She sounded like a Harley, again.  Apparently, there were just 2 bolts holding on her manifold, keeping the guts of her exhaust system from falling into the road.  So, we spent a large part of the afternoon trying to find someone who would work on her in the tiny little town of Sandpoint.  Together, Andre and I must have made 20 calls, including one to the mechanic in Springfield who clearly didn’t tighten the bolts properly.  I was in tears after that conversation and ready to have her towed to Spokane, the closest actual city.  A shop there would be able to look at her in a few days, the best response we’d gotten by that point.  Finally, Andre found a shop, well, sort of a shop—Rag’s (repairs and general service, owned by Jim Ragland and his father).

Rag’s was an interesting place, extremely well kept, clean, and decorated with classic car parts and memorabilia.  It was situated next to Jim’s father’s house, and was kind of a do-it-yourself type of place.  Andre and Jim worked side-by-side, tidying up little issues (welding a piece onto the tailpipe to divert the diesel smoke, etc.) after the manifold was properly bolted and tightened.  I could write an entire book about this guy and his life, but for now I’ll just say that we regular humans can only dream of living such a full and exciting life—from his travels around the world to some of the most remote places, to his inventions, to his connections with people in nearly every small town and major city… we even learned that we a mutual friend, Spoon (Spooner, as Jim called him).  Jim’s shop used to be above Kona brewery in Hawaii, and he would sometimes go down to have a beer with his dad and Spoon after the shop closed.  Now, Venice Alehouse is one of my favorite places to go, and Spoon is one of my favorite Venetians.  This small world just keeps getting smaller! The best part about this mechanic is his ability to entertain you with story after story, but the second best thing are his prices.  He claims that he only needs to make $100 per day to make having the shop worth his time.  We were lucky that day because the woman before us paid $50, so our bill after nearly 2 hours of work (maybe half of that was chatting and laughing) came to only $50.  I couldn’t in good conscience pay that small fee, so I gave him $80 and two generously filled sacks of dried porcini and hawks wings.  I hope that was a fair deal.

After Butter was all better, Jim invited us back to his house to forage plums from the trees in his backyard, and we ended up with nearly 15 pounds after it was all said and done, which we later preserved along with elderberry pancake syrup… right in the bus.  He said the plums would be going to waste otherwise because of his impending move.  We stayed another hour, talking, learning, and listening to stories about his adventures and his life.  I could have stayed forever, but we had adventures of our own to enjoy.  If you ever break down in Sandpoint, or anywhere near Sandpoint, stop in at Rag’s.  Heck, even if you’re just passing through, it’s definitely worth the stop!  You might just decide to stay!