Dive Bar Casanova
Senior Member
- Joined
- 9 Mar 2019
- Local time
- 3:58 AM
- Messages
- 577
I recently got stranded in the middle of a Idaho (USA) Wheatfield when our new tow vehicle broke down.
The wheatfield does double duty as a $60 a day campground to the adjacent Sand Dunes just after harvest. Farmer grabs every dollar she/he can.
Took 37 days for the local dealer to obtain parts and get us (me) on our way.
In the meantime, we lived in our Trailer and waited it out.
They gave us an old loaner car so we made the best of it. At least we had some transportation.
Wife is a nurse whos hospital needed her desperately so I was able to eventually arrange a flite home for her.
The town of St Anthony Idaho is eerily desolate and quiet.
The car dealer that was to fix our truck stood lonesome and empty, barely hanging on staying in business.
I walked down the street the dealership was on, crossed it, looked back at the old, mostly abandon 1920's era buildings and noticed a sheet of plywood atop one with BAR hand painted on it in black.
Like a moth to a flame I headed toward it.
There was an open door in the building below the sign and I looked down the hallway and saw the word Lounge. It smelled of stale air. A smell I have not experienced in decades.
What the hey,, I pulled on the lounge door and went in.
The place was alive with farm girls who'd been up since 3 AM doing farmwork. Now off for the day doing their college work on laptops and notebooks, playing music and laughing drinking $1 draught beers.
The super friendly bartender took my order, a Bacardi and coke and charged me $2.25. That drink back home is rarely under $8.50.
"It's happy hour, 25 cents off" the bartender told me.
Hell, at those prices I bought a round for the house and was instantly part of the congregation.
The only grocery store in the greater area is a Walmart Supercenter way at the other end of the County. I did find an excellent butcher shop and a bakery, both something you'll never find back in California.
So every few days when I went back to the bar out of lonesomeness I brought a crock pot full of food.
Twice I brought sliced tri tip in Au Jus and fresh baked buns for sandwiches.
That,,, was a mega hit.
I slice the tri tip before cooking.
Soak it for an hour immersed in water.
Then smoke it cooking it medium rare.
Then into the (8qt standard style) crockpot in au jus made with beef stock and seasonings.
Simmer for about an hour then to warm setting.
That's how I kept myself busy.
Open carry mean firearms. Guns, alcohol and politics never mix well:
The cafe’ part folded long ago leaving the bar only.
Windows had dressings I guess to make the abandon space behind look presentable.
The wheatfield does double duty as a $60 a day campground to the adjacent Sand Dunes just after harvest. Farmer grabs every dollar she/he can.
Took 37 days for the local dealer to obtain parts and get us (me) on our way.
In the meantime, we lived in our Trailer and waited it out.
They gave us an old loaner car so we made the best of it. At least we had some transportation.
Wife is a nurse whos hospital needed her desperately so I was able to eventually arrange a flite home for her.
The town of St Anthony Idaho is eerily desolate and quiet.
The car dealer that was to fix our truck stood lonesome and empty, barely hanging on staying in business.
I walked down the street the dealership was on, crossed it, looked back at the old, mostly abandon 1920's era buildings and noticed a sheet of plywood atop one with BAR hand painted on it in black.
Like a moth to a flame I headed toward it.
There was an open door in the building below the sign and I looked down the hallway and saw the word Lounge. It smelled of stale air. A smell I have not experienced in decades.
What the hey,, I pulled on the lounge door and went in.
The place was alive with farm girls who'd been up since 3 AM doing farmwork. Now off for the day doing their college work on laptops and notebooks, playing music and laughing drinking $1 draught beers.
The super friendly bartender took my order, a Bacardi and coke and charged me $2.25. That drink back home is rarely under $8.50.
"It's happy hour, 25 cents off" the bartender told me.
Hell, at those prices I bought a round for the house and was instantly part of the congregation.
The only grocery store in the greater area is a Walmart Supercenter way at the other end of the County. I did find an excellent butcher shop and a bakery, both something you'll never find back in California.
So every few days when I went back to the bar out of lonesomeness I brought a crock pot full of food.
Twice I brought sliced tri tip in Au Jus and fresh baked buns for sandwiches.
That,,, was a mega hit.
I slice the tri tip before cooking.
Soak it for an hour immersed in water.
Then smoke it cooking it medium rare.
Then into the (8qt standard style) crockpot in au jus made with beef stock and seasonings.
Simmer for about an hour then to warm setting.
That's how I kept myself busy.
Open carry mean firearms. Guns, alcohol and politics never mix well:
The cafe’ part folded long ago leaving the bar only.
Windows had dressings I guess to make the abandon space behind look presentable.
Last edited:
Yes Diogo looks good but our paths have never crossed. Yes this will be over it's just a funny phase and I'm letting myself ride with it. I am healthy and safe, my basic needs are met, I am doing well and this will be over. I really believe in the old adage "this too shall pass", life goes in circles, sometimes you're up other times you're down, that's the way it goes.