Timberfest Parade Mostly Just A Rumor

There were rumors of a parade.

But about 10 minutes before it was supposed to start, there was some doubt about whether there actually would be one Saturday morning in Sandpoint.

Strangers asked one another. Nobody seemed sure. And there was an absence of telltale signs - video cameras and a massing of strollers.

But the Honnold family from nearby Sagle waited on a wooden bench in front of the Whistle Stop Cafe. They knew. It was coming.

“Is the parade starting?” 7-year-old Colton asked his father as ordinary traffic streamed past on First.

“Does it LOOK like it’s starting?” answered Randy Honnold without sounding sarcastic.

The Honnolds abandoned the bench long enough to buy pastries. When they came back it was 10 a.m., time for the parade to start.

“Hmmmm,” said Nancy Honnold, Randy’s wife. “I wonder.”

Young Colton finished his sugary treat in no time. He tried to hand his napkin to his dad. Without frowning or anything, his dad pointed out a nearby trash barrel.

Another five minutes passed. Still no parade. “Well,” said Randy Honnold, a heavy-equipment operator with tanned, muscular forearms.

Then appeared a slow-moving Sandpoint Police car with its emergency lights flashing. The Timberfest parade was under way.

It consisted of logging trucks hauling timber, flat-beds hauling lumber and cars transporting featured guests.

There was a little candy tossing, waving and horn-honking.

“Sandpoint Jr. Miss is Supported by Timber Dollars,” read a sign on one vehicle.

“For a Logger, Every Day is Earth Day,” said another.

Randy Honnold seemed surprised by how few people were watching. “Not much of a turnout,” he said.

There was a bigger crowd a couple of blocks away at a little farmers’ market, to say nothing of the hundreds of shoppers gathered a few miles away for the annual Coldwater Creek Warehouse Sale.

But Colton didn’t seem disappointed. He liked the big trucks. “Wow,” he said at one point.

Eight minutes after it started, it was over. Regular traffic resumed.

No parade ever ended with less fanfare.

“That’s it?” said Randy Honnold.

But he didn’t want to sound as if he was putting it down. “I knew some guys who would’ve been here,” he said. “But they had to work.”

The Honnolds got up and headed for their tan Ford pickup.

, DataTimes MEMO: Being There is a weekly feature that visits Inland Northwest gatherings.