Coeur d’Alene Hates WaveRunners

Text and Photography by John O’Dwyer

Coeur d’Alene hates WaveRunners. Well “Wave-Runners” like me, anyway.

Amateur speed demons unpredictably skimming across its surface like a skipping stone. Wide-eyed Peeping Toms slowing only to gawk into the locals’ palatial living rooms. Itchy-fingered crotch-rocketeers who approach the last No Wake Zone buoy the way a heat of excited dachshunds scramble toward the starting gates at the Weinernationals.

Which is why they’re making me watch this PWC safety video.

I’m standing at the counter of Island Rentals, the premiere PWC rental facility on Lake Coeur d’Alene, trying to convince its perky young cashier to spare me this agony, or at least 8x it to the end. She gives me that look that uninterested women in bars have given me all my life.

“But I own a WaveRunner,” I protest. “Jockeyed it all the way from Santa Barbara to Mexico by myself.” (see PWI’s Mar-Apr. 2008 issue)

She picks up the remote and presses the |<< key. “You weren’t paying attention,” she says as the DVD reprises its opening montage. “Now I have to start it over.”

Above: You are staring into the eyes of moral decay, according to Lake Coeur d'Alene PWC rental staff....

I stand there speechless, repressing the urge to ask her if she’s ever seen the movie “Heathers,” while she chooses a PFD for me and charges a $500 deposit to my credit card.

Down on the docks, I must be an embarrassingly common sight – aging sunburned tourist practicing little chivalry as he attempts to racewalk – Olympic style – past women, children and elderly for pole position on WaveRunner  #1. I spare them nothing, camera dangling around my neck, gaudy beach towel dragging behind me, loose shoelaces just begging to be tripped over. I am a postcard Ugly American, though frankly, I don’t much care. I’m so anxious to get wet, I could wet myself…

When I get to the pier’s end, a guy half my age reviews the basics of PWC operation over my repeated assurances that I am a professional. After he makes me promise to obey posted speed limits, steer clear of other boaters and approach the dock slowly on my return, he finally hands me the coiled lanyard to a gorgeous Yamaha VX110 Sport like a reluctant father surrendering the keys of a ’69 Corvette to his teenage son. “Be careful,” he warns while gently lowering me into the lake, “and have fun.”

One thousand feet later, I am exercising the latter half of his advice to the fullest extent possible. The brand new VX110 leaps out of the water and easily overtakes a regatta of sailboats, a handful of fishing craft and a pair of runabouts. For a short while, I relish in what it must feel like to be Michael Phelps, lapping the weak and causing others to feign interest in the other direction rather than face the humiliation of getting pwned. For all this, Coeur d’Alene is perfect; it’s seasonally warm, absurdly picturesque and flush with other boaters out having fun. And unlike the rough, salty ocean where I normally play, a large wave in your face here is, well… rather tasty. With every splash, I wipe my eyes and marvel at the lack of stinging sensations.

No question, freshwater boating has its advantages and perhaps highest among these is sightseeing. Somewhat bending my promise to “stay well offshore,” I intimately explore every nook and cranny of coastline until I stumble a little too close to a young couple getting intimate with Coeur d’Alene in their own way. A bit further from here, I pause alongside the famous floating 14th Hole at the Coeur d’Alene Resort Golf Course – a sight you just don’t get when in the middle of the Pacific – and notice a good sum of golfers on the adjacent driving range trading in their irons for woods. Apparently, an idling PWC makes an amusing target and/or prized trophy for those who find them an amphibious assault on their eyes. A steady barrage of striped golf balls arc towards me from the plaid-panted marksmen on the hills. Alas, I’m well out of range, with their nearest dimpled salvos splashing down more than 100 yards short of my bow.

With the afternoon flying by, I grant the hackers their idyllic, unspoiled view for now and choose instead to motor south and ogle into their seven-figure lakefront homes. A recent run-up of real estate has led to an explosion of stately mansions along Coeur d’Alene’s coast… to the delight of some, to the dismay of others… depending, I think, on whether you happen to own the keys to one of these castles. And here, gently allowing myself to dream alongside these sprawling estates, did it become painfully obvious why Island Rentals takes personal watercraft safety so seriously.

Around a small cape come two young racers, neck and neck, and blinded by the glare of the setting sun. At a moment far too late, they both swerve inside me to avoid a collision and then in front of a right-of-way sailboat to avoid crashing with the shore. Seconds later, they double back to jump the wake of a powerboat pulling in a parasailer.

Suddenly, all of it… the damage waivers, the training videos, the extra safety checks… all made sense. Coeur d’Alene is a massive lake, but large portions of her are shared by PWC, sailboats, powerboats, kayakers, kiteboarders, stand-up paddlers and even seaplanes. Add favorably flat conditions and a bounty of distracting eye-candy and it’s a wonder that more accidents don’t occur out here at the hands of over-confident amateurs.

A little wiser perhaps, I make a small promise to apologize to the bright young lady who made every effort to temper my surging adrenaline and over-inflated ego. The sun dropping behind the mountains, I hustle back to the docks as quickly as possible, scanning left, scanning right.

About Coeur d’Alene:

GETTING THERE:

Coeur d'Alene is approximately 30 miles east of Spokane, Washington (Airport: GEG)

WHERE TO STAY:

Coeur d'Alene Golf Spa & Resort, 800/688-5253

Unquestionably the best value in the area, that is, if you happen to own your own Google. With basic rooms starting at over two C’s and upwards of one M when you add 18 holes, the rest of us might consider the broader offering of Best Westerns and Holiday Inns up the street. For the more daring, try the kitschy Bates Motel, 2018 E. Sherman Ave. (Note to single blondes fleeing the law with a suitcase full of stolen cash, avoid Room #1)

WHERE TO PLAY:

Island Rentals, 200 Sherman Avenue, 208/666-1626

With its prime location and well-orchestrated rental process, you’ll find yourself annoying golfers in no time. Just be careful when shoving away from the dock. You may be backing into the propellers of a seaplane in pre-flight. (WaveRunner Rentals: Approximately $85 per hour.)

WHERE TO EAT:

Hudson's Hamburgers, 207 E. Sherman Avenue, 208/664-5444

For 100 years – literally – Hudson’s has been flippin’ burgers the way Johnny Rockets pretends to. Walk in, find an empty bar stool and pretend like it’s 1908. (Small downer: no french fries… the Potato State… go figure.)

®2008, John Ryan O’Dwyer, for Personal Watercraft Illustrated