My month in Idaho

My take on Idaho

where I went this month

The only time before this month I'd ever been in Idaho was in July 1977, when my boyfriend and I passed through here on our way to Alaska.  We spent the night somewhere near Coeur d'Alene, and I've taken with me over the years an impression of quiet, of tall beautiful evergreens and of peaceful waters.  I can now say that, if you've only been to Idaho's panhandle (where Coeur d'Alene is), then you've missed most of what Idaho has to offer.  But I can also say that my first impression was undoubtedly correct and still possible to duplicate (if you can get away from all the tourists - and yes, I know I'm a tourist, too).

I now know, what I didn't know then, that the Rocky Mountains and their foothills pass through Idaho on their way north to Canada.  And as with the other states with mountain ranges, Idaho's land is different in the east (rain shadow, weather from the Plains) than in the west (weather from off the Pacific Ocean).  So western Idaho is lush with trees and lakes; eastern Idaho is similar to high plains desert country.

I guess one of the most enduring impressions I have now of Idaho - and also one that I found most surprising - is of waterfalls.  They're all over the state, large and small.  Of course, none of them is as spectacular is the Multnomah Falls in Oregon, for instance, but the sheer quantity was surprising.  

Idaho is made for the outdoors enthusiasts.  Statewide you can find tall mountains, deep canyons, huge forests, wilderness areas, deserts - sometimes all right in the same place.  Those that like to live here in the winter tell me they're partial to winter sports, and the state offers a lot of opportunities for them.  And it's not just above ground that Idaho shows its natural resources: not many other states heat their capitol buildings with geothermal energy (actually, no other states).

And speaking of the outdoors, Idaho's agricultural influence is far stronger than I'd realized.  I saw farmlands everywhere.  I was surprised to see nowhere near as much land devoted to potatoes as I'd expected, but they're growing them somewhere because Idaho produces almost a third of the US potatoes.  Idaho even has a thriving business in seeds of various kinds.

I saw wildlife galore.  When mountain goats hang out on the roadways with their kids without waiting to find a wildlife refuge for it - well, you know there must be a lot of them here.  I saw deer all over (and, sadly, lots of dead deer along the road).  I saw chipmunks (which Dexter loves) and a Bald Eagle (which I love).

Along with the beautiful countryside, I met some very nice people, and everyone I talked to was glad they lived here.  Many were still living where they'd been born, some others had moved out of state and been glad to come back.

But driving in Idaho wasn't so pleasant.  Too many drivers weren't just bad at driving and were more than rude: they were dangerous.  On the other hand, I did get 2 thank yous during this month, and nobody blared at me for not pulling fully off the road when I let them pass, so those were good things.

Idaho has several specialty plates, but this is the one
 I saw on most of the vehicles here.

And it will be a long time before I forget that Idaho Falls was the scene both of an unusual and attractive series of waterfalls and of the place I dislocated my toe.

But as beautiful as Idaho undoubtedly is, and as pleasant as most people were, I'd still just as soon not go back to the state again.  There was just too much visible defiance at a government that wasn't doing anything to be defiant about.  Too much obvious bristling at rights being taken away when nobody was even hinting at doing so.  It just looked to me like too many people here don't realize their trusted sources of information are lying to them and making them angry and fearful of something that doesn't exist.  As the month went on, I found that attitude increasingly threatening to me.  Not that anyone was, of course, but you can be just as dead from being caught in a crossfire as from being the original target.  I didn't feel safe here.  And to me, that's no way to live.

Idaho - Days 29 - 31 - in Kamiah campground

Kamiah/Clearwater River KOA, Kamiah

Friday, 29 through Sunday, 31 July 2022

I'd intended to spend the last few days of the month in one place - this one - figuring I'd need the time to catch up and hoping they'd have a good wifi system.  It turned out I did indeed need some catch-up time but, sadly, they didn't have a system that worked with any consistency.  On the other hand, my hot spot could pick up a signal, which was slow often but at least I could get some work done.  And I finished 10 blog posts while I was here, which shows how far behind I was.  Still, that puts me in a far better position than I've had in months for winding up the month fairly close to the time the month winds itself up.

Once again, I had some trouble when I checked in here.  They told me they'd moved me to a site "that's better for me" because someone else had reserved the site I'd been promised (which I pointed out meant I had it first and they'd bumped me out of it, because if the other guy had been first, they wouldn't have given it to me in the first place).  And the new site wasn't better in any way - it was in the middle of a large party of campers who were meeting here for a weekend of fun, and it was a lot farther from the dog park and the bathrooms and the laundry room - not what they'd promised at all.  And I said so.  I had to be a little forceful about it, but they ended up putting me right where they'd said they would.

And I was glad I did when I realized almost nobody else was staying near us most of the time we were there (quieter), and when I saw how large that party of party-ers was.  They were in 5 or 6 campsites next to each other, each with a camper or RV, and each also with multiple tents (for the kids - lots of kids).  They had a ring of folding chairs gathered together that must have had at least 20 chairs there - you know, for visiting in the evenings and gathering for coffee in the mornings.  They also each had a lot of large flotation devices - inner tubes and things for floating on the river (there was river access near the campground).  I'm sure they all had a great time, but since I go to bed so early, it would have been an impossible situation for me.  So it was lucky the campground gave in and let me move.

And it turned out the dog park wasn't very nice.  They had a large trash can inside for people to deposit their poop bags.  But they seemed to be waiting until the trash bag inside it was full before changing it, and the smell was pretty bad.  I don't even want to think about how long it would take to fill a large trash can with little bags of dog poop.  Maybe it wouldn't matter in the winter, but this was the end of July and the smell wasn't contained by the lid on the trash can.  I couldn't take it for very long.  And I guess other dogs didn't like coming here because Dext never seemed to find much to sniff, and nobody else ever joined us.

And the campground had the laundry room closed for some reason I didn't quite understand.  So it turned out not to be so important to have a campsite near the dog park and the laundry room.  I think the campground folks here are basically well-intentioned but underfunded, and they just don't have the money or the staff to do the level of maintenance work that places like this require.  On the other hand, this is a nice setting with a serious abundance of trees, which helps overcome many drawbacks.

Speaking of heat, which I was a minute ago, I don't know what the actual temps got to, but the forecasts for while we were here were 105°, 106°, and 107°, in that order.  Fortunately all those trees helped keep it not as bad as it would have been, but it was still very hot each day.

I don't think the heat was why the smoke alarm went off one morning when I was toasting bread.  I don't cart around a regular toaster, of course, but I've learned it works just fine to use a Teflon skillet and turn the bread over frequently.  So on Saturday, the alarm went off when the door and 2 windows were wide open and the bread hadn't even started to brown.  I have no idea what makes it do that.  A smoke alarm is designed to alert a household of ordinary size, so in a 24' x 8' space it does a whole lot more than alert.  It scares me to pieces and I drop whatever I'm holding.  Someday I'll end up creating a major mess because of that, and I'll be pretty peeved.  But so far, lucky.

Speaking of appliances.  My frig is just plain not working right.  It goes from freezing the frig contents (frozen yogurt is only good when you plan for it to be) to melting the ice in the freezer.  And a couple of times it's turned itself off.  Just off.  For no reason that I can see.  I only find out it's off when I open the door and the light doesn't come on.  That's the biggest mistake I've made on this whole trip - to get rid of my original frig because I thought it might malfunction in the future, because I'd heard that they often did.  Big mistake.  Huge.

I finally got around to watching the copy of Minority Report that I'd bought in Olympia, and it had some kind of malfunction.  It looks perfect - no scratches or anything.  But when I was watching it it would freeze itself, as if I had paused it.  And when I tried to fast-forward through that section, it did it again a little farther on.  It's such a complex movie that I couldn't really miss very much of it, because then I couldn't follow the plot, so I finally just gave up and put in The Milagro Beanfield War.  That's a wonderful movie but it could hardly be more different from Minority Report, which I'd already gotten invested in, trying to figure out this different world.  Well, the world in Milagro is different from my regular world too, but the 2 movie worlds being so different was almost disorienting.  But I finally got settled back and relaxed (which you can't do with Minority Report), so that was good.  Too bad about not being able to see the movie, though.

This campground has a large pond that they say is for fishing.  I didn't see anybody fishing but the ducks.  There were a lot of ducks living there.  A party of 4 Mallards and a separate group of maybe 7 or 8 white and tan ducks, that I have no idea what kind they were.  They had a lot to say, though - I could hear them often from my campsite.

One time I was walking Dexter, and a guy stopped his pickup and rolled down his window and pointed at Dext and said, "That is a beautiful dog."  I never think of him as attractive, but I do think he's one of the sweetest-natured dogs I've ever had.

I was rereading my posts for the month to try to get ready to do my monthly summary, and I realized I mention going to the grocery store about every 2nd or 3rd day.  It's partly because I'm eating so much fresh fruit and salads and don't have much room to store stuff in, and don't want it to go bad before I can eat it.  And it's partly because Idaho doesn't have many large population centers - actually, it's mainly got the Boise area - so grocery stores don't always carry things I want - like oranges, for instance.  So I get what I can at one store, and then stop at another store a day or two later to try again, or to fill in the gaps of what I just ate.  And with the frig acting up, the salad greens don't last very long if I don't eat them right away.  Anyway, that's why I'm shopping so often.

Despite my nit-picking criticisms, Dext and I enjoyed walking around the campground because of the trees, and I was happy to have gotten almost caught up on my posts.

Idaho - Day 28 - to Moscow, then Kamiah

Kamiah/Clearwater River KOA, Kamiah
Thursday, 28 July 2022

today's route

That map looks more complicated than the drive was, because of me not being able to crop out the parts I don't want to show - so drives to other places show up along with today's route.  We drove straight down US 95 from Coeur d'Alene to Moscow, and from there took a scenic route southeast to Kamiah, which is about 100 miles from the Montana border.

I wanted to stop in Moscow for several reasons, the main one being that it's the only CVS in northern Idaho and I needed a refill on my blood pressure meds.  But I also wanted to dump my collection of recycling and stop at a grocery and pass by the University of Idaho.

But first, the drive.

I noticed a Biden/Harris poster not far out of Coeur d'Alene, which surprised me in this area known for being tolerant of militias.  In fact, this past spring the Idaho House passed a bill to repeal a law currently on the books that bans private militias.  The State of Idaho says "a well-regulated militia" means the government regulates it.  Nonetheless, the House passed it on party lines, but I can't find that the state Senate has made a decision on it yet.

I came to Worley, pop. 254, then Plummer, pop. 1,044, where I stopped for gas when I saw a Conoco station was offering gas for $4.39.

In Oregon, marionberries were the big thing.  In Idaho, it's huckleberries.  I bought some huckleberry jam at that produce stand I stopped at a few days ago, because they seem to be an expensive commodity for buying fresh.  They're much like blueberries, only more tart.  Huckleberries are the state fruit of Idaho.

All over the state I've seen lots of "Bridge May Be Icy" signs.  The thing though is that these are all permanent signs - they don't fold down for the summer.  Maybe the non-icy season isn't long enough to justify the expense.

I saw vast hillsides planted with grain, mostly golden.  It was really pretty.  As I drove on I saw fields where grain was growing, some where it had been or was being harvested, some where it had been baled, and some where the fields had been cleared for replanting.  I'd imagine the growing season is pretty short up here, so they'd want to get as much crop in as possible, not being able to count on a start date for frost.

And back through Tensed, pop. 125.  Soon after that I stopped at a rest area to give Dext a break.  The designated dog area was uninviting, but I found a "Nature Walk" so we went on that for a bit.  I think the walk has that title because every now and then they had signs giving the common and Latin names of various plants.  It was up a steep hill but it was paved, so it was pleasant for a while, but I started to get nervous because I had no idea how long it was or if it was a loop or what - so I turned us around.

Back on the road, I saw the Wild Rose Mennonite Youth were a volunteer litter crew.

Moscow calls itself "Heart of the Arts" and include in that slogan tree planting, rehabilitation of native grasslands, and "a community-wide love of the arts."

I passed the Appaloosa Museum.  Yes, for the breed of horses.  I told you there are a lot of horses in this state.

The University of Idaho, founded 1889, is an attractive campus that's spread out across town.  State boundaries and identities are curious things.  The University of Idaho is 533 miles from Idaho State University (per Google).  Washington State University is 292 miles from University of Washington.  But Washington State University is 6.7 miles from University of Idaho.

I found the recycle place no problem and got rid of most of my stuff (except my growing collection of #1 plastics that aren't bottles), and had a nice conversation with one of the employees who said he and his wife were thinking of buying an RV to make it easier to visit their son in the military stationed in New Mexico.

The folks at the CVS had my drugs ready (it was the pharmacist's birthday).  And I took Dext in to a nearby Petco to see about a new collar.  He'd had the old one for some years and, now that he's an only dog, I thought he deserved a nicer one.  So I found one that was padded and had reflective stripes, and then treated myself to a leash with reflective stripes.  We don't walk much in the dark these days, but it's past the Solstice and the days are getting shorter.  And like an idiot, I knuckled under and bought him a bone.  A real bone, because I don't know which of those rawhide or whatever things are safe for him.

Driving through town I found another pet supply store, this one called "Pets are people too."

Google gave me a choice (and I could see for myself from the map they were the only 2 choices) - either take back roads for miles or go back through Lewiston.  The smell from that paper mill was so truly awful that if I never have to go through Lewiston again it'll be too soon.  Not to mention having to go down that really steep hill without a name or elevation sign.  I opted for the back roads.

Doing that, I found another really steep hill between Troy, pop. 862, and Kendrick, pop. 369.  This hill had a warning sign saying, "Truckers: 9% grade in 8 miles."  Well, I didn't much like the sound of that but still liked the conditions in Lewiston even less, so I went on.  It was called the Kendrick Grade, and it was a 9% grade lasting 3 miles.  I took it slowly and carefully and was lucky there wasn't much other traffic.  I found when I got to the bottom that just ahead of me had been a pickup pulling a long camper and wondered why on earth an outfit like that would choose to go down that steep hill.

A little ways down the road I came to Juliaetta, pop. 595, and wondered where that unusual name came from.  The first postmaster had 2 daughters - Julia and Etta.  You know, the US Postal Service seems to have had as much to do with what America looks like today as the railroads.

Idaho has a lot of small towns, as you can see.

I turned onto US Highway 12, on the Northwest Passage Scenic Byway.

We stopped at another rest area, and after I'd taken Dext out I stopped at the dump station there.  I knew there'd be one at tonight's campground but after my experience with last night's leachfield, I figured I'd play it safe.  Besides, though it was hot, it'd be a lot hotter by the time we stopped.  The flags at the rest area were at half-staff for some reason, though I had no one to ask.  As many shootings as we have in this country these days, it could be for almost anything.  Which is a truly depressing thing to say.

US 12 ran along the Clearwater River, and several towns were built on both sides of it.

Lenore was one, Orofino, pop. 3,140, was another.

Signs told me I was first on the Lewis & Clark Trail, and later on the Nez Perce Trail.

Then I came to, and through, Kamiah, pop. 1,160.  By then it was getting on in the day and instead of driving around town a bit as I'd thought, I just went straight on to the campground.

Idaho - Day 27 - down to Coeur d'Alene

Camp Coeur d'Alene, Coeur d'Alene
Wednesday 27 July 2022

Because Google said today's drive wouldn't take much more than an hour, I decided to stop at a laundromat in Ponderay before we left town.  This was one of those that used cards you have to pre-pay for, meaning you have to know in advance how many washers and dryers you'll want and for how long.  I hate those.  Fortunately, the laundry attendant took pity on me and showed me how to use the card machine and showed me which washer to use that would cost the least and told me how many minutes I'd need for the dryer.  And she was right about everything, which made it all much easier than I'd feared.  It was 10:30 when we finally got on the road.

today's route

I passed a business called Encoder Products Company, which sounded like spies so I looked it up.  And I'm not much wiser than I was.  They say they're "one of the largest privately-held encoder manufacturers in North America," and I think they make motion sensing devices, which don't sound like codes to me.  But they're right here in Idaho's Panhandle.

A highway sign told me: "RIG IT LANE Must Turn Right."  It took me quite a while to realize part of the sign had been scraped off somehow, and there was no such thing as a "rig it" lane but instead a "right" lane.

I passed Lake Cocolalla, which looks like a pretty place and is apparently not much known outside of the locals, though they say it's a good lake for recreationalists.

At Careywood, I saw a sign proclaiming the town was "Home of the Idaho State Forestry Contest Since 1982."  I learned this is an annual contest for kids in grades 5-12 about basic forest and resource management.  It includes such varied skills as log scaling, compass reading, tree and plant identification.  It's probably a lot of fun and would be a serious accomplishment for these kids.  (Actually, for me too.)

Litter pickup in this area was sponsored by "Caring Misfits Pod."  I can't find anything about them online, so I'm guessing it's a group of local folks with a sense of humor.

The town of Garwood is home to Gargoyle Granite and Marble, an unusual name.

And then I got back to Hayden, pop. 13,190, and Coeur d'Alene, pop. 44,137.  I've been hearing on the radio that in the 2020 census, Twin Falls got pushed above the 50,000 residents mark, which means they're now officially classified as an urban area.  And the federal government says that means they need to come up with a transit plan.  They've apparently done some study that says a regular bus route wouldn't work there because too many buses would be riding around empty most of the time.  Instead they're checking out a program Idaho Falls has started that's more of a van-on-demand kind of service, at least for low income and disabled and vulnerable populations.  I never knew 50,000 was the lower limit for a city.

I stopped off at a Safeway and noticed there's a Dickey's Barbecue place in town - "pretty dang classy," they say.  The Idaho Panhandle seems a little far afield for a Dallas-based BBQ place, but they do have good food.

Just 10 miles out of town I turned onto a road along the east side of Lake Coeur d'Alene and saw a sign saying I was on the Lake Coeur d'Alene Scenic Byway.  And it is scenic.  And that's a beautiful lake.

Lake Coeur d'Alene

I passed the turn for the campground so I could see a little of the lake and this scenic byway, and I got more than I bargained for.  Going south, the road did indeed run along the lake for much of the way I drove, but it was nearly constant tight curves, uphill, and I was in the outside lane (farthest from the hill) all of which added up to some uncomfortable moments of driving.  After 4 miles I'd had enough - it just wasn't scenic enough to warrant such a difficult drive (it would've been different in a car, especially a small car), and I turned around.  Going back I was on the side closest to land, but a sign told me it was a 5% grade (I knew those had been some steep hills) and the double s-curves were still very tight.  It was actually a relief to finally get back to the campground.

When I checked in, I'd been planning to dump my waste tanks right away.  It'd been 5 days since I'd last emptied them so it was time.  But they told me that they were experiencing a low underground water table due to the lack of rain, and that had messed up the leachfield for their septic system.  They voluntarily refunded me $14 for not being able to dump my tanks, which was nice, but still an inconvenience.  They gave me locations for the nearest tank dumps, but they weren't particularly close by so I let it go.

Then I found I couldn't get my RV level in my campsite, which meant we'd be canted a bit one way or another.  Happens all the time but still a nuisance.

On the other hand, the RV was almost fully shaded by trees so the AC didn't have to work overtime as it did at Sandpoint.  And the wifi service here was excellent.  I used that amenity to create drafts of all my upcoming posts and then uploaded the photos I wanted to use.  It's the photos that slow me down - sometimes for hours - when the internet reception isn't good, so I figured this way I'd solve that hurdle while I still could.

The forecast temp for this afternoon was 98°, and after walking a bit in the sun, it felt like that was accurate.  This place didn't have a dog park, but they did have a dead end road where people take their dogs, so that's where I took mine.  It occurred to me when we were climbing up the steep hill (in the sun) that this looked like good bear habitat.  And I learned later that they do get visits by bears now and then.  I heard a news report just the other day of a dog having been in a fight with a bear.  The wildlife officials didn't bother tracking down the bear because the dog had started the fight and the bear was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, or something like that.  I didn't want to see what mine would do, because I'm pretty sure he too would start a fight and I didn't want to deal with the resulting vet bill.

Idaho - Days 24 - 26 - along the Pend Oreille River

Bonner County Fairgrounds RV Park, Sandpoint
Sunday, 24 through Tuesday, 26 July 2022

I spent 2 of these days in the campground and the 3rd day doing errands in Sandpoint and driving along the Pend Oreille River back to Newport, WA, for a short visit with my friend Denise while I was still in the neighborhood.

In the campground

I'd had such a good experience at the campground at Grant County Fairgrounds in Moses Lake that I was hoping for something similar here.  It turned out the only points of similarity were the horses: lots of horses when we got here Saturday afternoon, and whatever event they were hosting here continued all day Sunday.  I never did figure out what kind of group was involved, but I could vaguely hear the loud speaker in the show ring, so I knew there was some event happening.

Other than that, nothing much was similar.  The fairgrounds here seemed smaller and much lower budget than those in Moses Lake, so there weren't many places I could take Dexter.  And every time I found a new area, some one of the local folks was already there with their dogs.  Dext was pretty well behaved around them, but we were clearly intruding.

The camp hosts had warned me that the campground's wifi was spotty, which I discovered was putting it mildly - it was rarely even existent.  But I was able to get a signal on my hotspot and managed to finish 4 blog posts, catching up as far as Day 15 (which only puts me 12 days behind).

The temps never got much above 90° and we were in some tall evergreens (mostly), so it was a pleasant situation.  And most of the other campers were also pleasant - and none of them seemed involved with the horse event, in complete contrast with Moses Lake.  

The website for this campground hasn't been updated since last fall, and no one ever answered when I called the office, but they handled online reservations through ReserveAmerica, which of course I've become very familiar with.  Oddly, though, this time the process was really different from any other time I've used them, and instead of being familiar and efficient, it was a time-consuming nuisance.  The camp hosts said this was the first time they'd been to a campground that used it and they planned to avoid it in the future.  And I found myself in the slightly bizarre position of defending and praising ReserveAmerica and saying it's usually very different and not like this experience.  (It's a mistake to stake out unyielding positions on things because the world keeps changing on us.)  (Though it's never a mistake to insist on honesty and integrity, regardless of the world's flux.)

On Sunday morning I noticed that a family who'd been camping across from me got all dressed up - the teenage boy was wearing a suit.  That reminded me that it was, after all, a Sunday morning and I assumed they were going to church, though they took their Airstream with them when they left.  Until I saw them I hadn't realized how few people who frequent campgrounds seem to be big churchgoers.

One morning Dext pointed out to me a deer grazing behind one of the campers.  Dext got excited and wanted to chase it.  The deer remained calm and stared at us.  I managed to move Dext along until the deer was out of sight, which means he forgot about it.  Although I noticed that each time we walked by that camper afterwards, Dext checked to see if the deer was there.  Short attention span but good memory.

Then beginning Tuesday morning, he vomited everything he'd eaten recently that hadn't been digested.  So it was several episodes over a little time.  And when we went out, his stools were very loose with what I suppose was the digested part of whatever was bothering him.  In fact, it became clear he wasn't feeling very good, and he kept wanting to cut our walks short.  Poor little guy.  Although I'd imagine he brought it on himself by insisting on eating stuff I keep trying to keep him from eating when we're out for walks.  And I feel sorry for me having to clean up behind him.  Being a parent can be no fun sometimes.  But I still hate to see him feeling punk.

Sandpoint and environs

Then on Monday the 25th, I ventured out into the area.

today's route

It was nearly 10:00 before we left the campground, and I decided to go straight to a neighborhood park so Dext could take a walk before I started to run errands.  What I've been doing to find parks is get Google to show me a map of a town, and then look around for places Google shows as patches of green.  Sometimes these turn out to be cemeteries or other unsuitable places, but they're often local parks, and I'll get Google to give me a driving route that includes stops at these.

That's how I found Hickory Street Park in Sandpoint.  It was only 2 miles from the campground, and it turned out to be a less-than-one-block area in the middle of a residential neighborhood.  Actually, a set of apartments or condos or something had a gate from their central garden directly into the park.  It was pretty small but had some nice tall old trees and at least gave Dext some new things to sniff for a change.

From there we went about 3 blocks to a Safeway, then across the parking lot to an Idaho State Liquor Store.  By then the day was moving on and I decided to postpone the laundry so I could drive the 30 miles to visit Denise.  

I hadn't realized that I'd be following the Pend Oreille River the entire trip, but rivers pay no attention to state boundaries (unless they actually are the state boundaries, which this one wasn't), and the Pend Oreille runs past Newport WA and then north up into British Columbia.  Actually, it starts at its lake there at Sandpoint and eventually joins the Columbia River in Canada.  Seems odd to think of them joining there when they both end up going through Washington, but they do.

Anyway, it was a beautiful drive, thanks to the river.  A sign told me I was following the Panhandle Historic Rivers Passage.

I saw an Idaho license plate on an RV that said ONRWAY.

I heard on the radio that cement is the 2nd most used commodity in the world (water being the 1st).  And that China used more cement in a recent 2-year period than the US had used in the whole of the 20th century, which is a fairly staggering statement when you think about it.

At Laclede there was a very large lumber yard or sawmill and the sawdust smell was very strong.

At Priest River, pop. 1,754, I crossed the Priest River, which flows into the Pend Oreille.

A Bald Eagle flew overhead - always a wonderful sight.

Nearing the border I came to Oldtown, pop. 190.  I couldn't quite understand what I was seeing so I looked the town up and learned that it's one of those odd places that is bounded by the state line which separates it from Newport WA.  In fact, it used to be called Newport ID.  Denise told me Idaho and Washington share a traffic light there.  I'd thought the Pend Oreille River was the boundary, but in fact it runs along the east side of Oldtown and the state line is on the west.  Strange little place.

Then I ran into Newport for a few hours worth of visit, interrupting Denise's one day a week that she has time to do drafting for her clients.  Such a shame to be squeezing her day like that but she'd had obligations all the rest of the time I was here, so this was our chance.

Going back you'd think I wouldn't see anything new, but I did.  For one thing, I didn't see a Welcome to Washington sign when I went into Newport, but I did see a Welcome to Idaho sign when I went back.

Before I'd seen a sign for Albeni Falls and Dam, but this time I saw the actual dam and the turn for the visitor center.  Apparently the falls were always there, and the dam has increased the waterflow through them.  I understand they're lovely and a place to visit on another trip.

This time when I passed a power substation, I noticed it was labeled Bonneville Power Authority.  I'd been thinking they were strictly a Washington/Oregon power source, but the internet tells me they serve 8 states in this area - from California through Nevada and out to Montana and Wyoming.  That's a lot of territory.

On this road, unlike the one I took into town the other day, I saw a sign telling me I was entering Sandpoint, pop. 7,835.

It was late afternoon when we got back, but I was glad for the chance to see more of the area.

Idaho - Day 23 - northward to Sandpoint

Bonner County Fairgrounds RV Park, Sandpoint
Saturday, 23 July 2022

today's route -
heading north again

Google said today would be another 4-hour drive, meaning a 7-hour drive for me, so once again I got us on the road just after 7:00.  It helps that sunrise in this area is soon after 5:00, so it's broad daylight when we leave.

Grangeville, pop. 3,141, was about a mile down the road, which swings at a sharp angle toward the northwest without going through the main part of town.

The road passed nonstop croplands, and once again I was entering the Nez Perce Indian Reservation.

Between Craigmont and Culdesac, the road took a 6% grade over 4 miles down a very long descent into a deep canyon.

Then we were back at Lapwai (Butterfly Land), pop. 1,134.  And a sign said I was on the Northwest Passage Scenic Byway.

At a Conoco station on tribal land (by the casino) not far from Lewiston, I paid $4.40/gallon for regular, which included a 5¢ discount for paying cash.  That's incredibly lower than anything I've paid for quite a while.  Nearby a billboard said, "Honor the Treaties - Breach the Dams."  Another vote for demolishing the obstructions to migrating salmon.

And then we were driving back into Lewiston, pop. 34,203, elev. 738'.  Grangeville, where we started the morning, lies at 3,399', so in a relatively short drive we dropped more than 2,600'.  You'll recall that Lewiston is Idaho's lowest point.

I'd forgotten about that truly terrible smell from the papermill here in town and wanted nothing more than to get away from it.  I took the road heading north, which immediately sent me on a seriously steep hill that climbed for miles.  Two problems.  One is that the smell came with us, when I'd hoped we'd be able to climb out of it; the second is that no signs ever said what elevation we'd gotten to or if the hill even had a name so I could look it up for myself.  All I know is that we climbed a very steep hill for a very long way.

On the radio I heard an interview with the author of a book called Rebel Without a Clause.  Obviously, she's a grammarian with a sense of humor and a set of grammatical principles which weren't quite what I expected.  I mention things like this book in the blog so when I finally stop traveling and have a place to put extra books and maybe even a library card, I know which ones I want to read.

I've been surprised to find that square hay bales are by far the most common in Idaho, far more than the round bales.

We came to Moscow, pop. 25,060, and stopped at an empty parking lot for the University of Idaho to take a break.

A little later I picked up a strange NPR station.  First I heard an impassioned pair of men insist that they're only interested in facts, and immediately go on to say that the mainstream media is the biggest purveyor of misinformation in the world.  They provided no supporting facts (you know, the things that they'd said were their only interest) but did provide an example: the mainstream media have produced nonstop information about the war in Ukraine that happens to coincide with the views of the Department of Defense and the White House, so the media are thus no more than megaphones for government.  (No mention that these views might coincide because they're factually correct.)  This media output has resulted, they say, in worsening recession and famine for the global south and something else that I forgot.  I didn't hear them even hint that Russia having started the whole thing by invading a sovereign nation without provocation might have played a role anywhere in this, and I also never once heard an actual fact.  The moderator asked only supportive questions and never once projected skepticism.  So I finally turned it off.  I felt like I gave them a hearing but got tired of them saying over and over that all they cared about were the facts when they never produced even one.

After a while I turned the radio back on and got this same station and heard an impassioned woman claiming NATO is the biggest problem with climate change because it's a military alliance and the military is by far the biggest polluter and NATO wants countries to build up their military spending instead of spending that money on direct climate science to address the problem.  There were just too many leaps in logic in that one too, and lacked some crucial facts that might change the argument, and as with the previous segment the moderator wasn't even mildly questioning her premises, so I turned it off again.  There's only so much stress I can take.

A sign told me I was entering the Coeur d'Alene Indian Reservation.

And I keep seeing dead deer along the road.

Today I saw alternating fields of yellow grain and green something that might be grain or maybe another crop.

Idaho has a town named Tensed, pop. 123.  Okay, this is another strange name brought about by the US Postal Service.  The town was first called Desmet, after the Jesuit priest De Smet who worked with the Coeur d'Alene tribe.  But when the town got a post office, the PO said they should change it because the name De Smet had already been taken.  So the town reversed the spelling and came up with Temsed, which the post office then decided must have been misspelled and changed it to a word they knew: Tensed.  Go figure.

I saw stunning patterns of harvested grain on the hillsides.  They reminded me of patterns of cornrow braids.  Intricate and beautiful.  And the road was winding and hilly and barely 2 lanes and there was nowhere at all I could stop and take a photo.

I saw a field of canola, and another field was labeled "garbanzo beans."

The town of Plummer didn't have a sign northbound (though I saw when I passed it that there was one southbound), but they did have a sign for Plummer Days and Car Show, which I'd just missed on July 16th.

I was passed by 20+ bikers heading south in a large group.

Litter cleanup in this area was sponsored by Grandma's Gone Wild Adventures.  Of course I had to look that up and learned that I'd know more if I could access Facebook, but what I found was that they're "free-spirited fun-loving grandmas determined to live life to the fullest."  Can't argue with that idea.

I knew Lake Coeur d'Alene was hiding behind hills on our right, and then as we were coming into town I got my first sight - a big beautiful lake.

Coeur d'Alene, pop. 44,137, not only has the lake but also the Spokane River.  I passed a huge marina that was advertising a wood boat show.

An Idaho license plate read MDDYPWS.

Completely not separated (visibly) from Coeur d'Alene is the town of Hayden, pop. 14,133, with a large farmers market today.  I passed the Pappy Boyington Field at Coeur d'Alene Airport.  I knew that name sounded familiar to me so I looked him up and learned that he was a WWII hero - a flying ace pilot who received the Medal of Honor and the Navy Cross.  And he was born here in Coeur d'Alene.  Here's the Wikipedia article about his amazing life and career.   https://en.wikipedia.org/Pappy-Boyington

For some reason, I never noticed this before, but today I realized several of these towns along here are twin cities: Moscow, with Pullman; Coeur d'Alene with Spokane; Sandpoint with Newport.

Not far out of town, I came to Silverwood, a giant amusement park where all the rides were operating.  They say they're the Pacific Northwest's largest theme park and include a hotel.  Across the highway was an RV park that should be theirs if it isn't - cater to all those grandparents who want to bring their families.

I passed a series of small towns and large lakes.  Then at Sagle the car in front of me stopped suddenly for a left turn, without giving any signal, in a 55 mph zone, which of course I was doing.  I came within inches of hitting that idiot.

US Highway 95 drives through Sandpoint by crossing Pend Oreille Lake.  That lake's name is pronounced "ponderay," locally anyway, and that coincidentally is the name of the town just north of Sandpoint where my campground was located.  Ponderay, pop. 1,150, calls itself The Little City with the Big Future.

And I made it into the campground at 1:34.

Idaho - Day 22 - back north to Grangeville

Bear Den RV Resort, Grangeville
Friday, 22 July 2022

We went back to the Meridian Bark Park one last time, and I thought it might work out okay for Dext because we got there before 7:00, when it was still cool.  And sure enough, this time, for the first time since Gracie died, he actually tried to get one of the other dogs to play with him!  I was so relieved to see it.  There were only 5 or 6 other dogs there, most bigger than he is, and one of them wanted to play chase with Dext, or tag-not-it, or something.  It didn't last long but it was a first step.  Thank goodness.

today's route

I wanted an early start because Google said the drive today would take more than 4 hours, which of course meant about 7 for me, so we left the dog park just after 7:00.

I heard on the radio that much of Idaho's in a "mega-drought," they said.  The current drought is the most severe in the last several thousand years, which is saying something.

The first part of today's route is the way we came into Boise 2 days ago.  I hadn't realized I'd been climbing up to the town of Horseshoe Bend the other day, but today I found a 7% grade for the next 5 miles - and it included 4 runaway truck ramps.  That was part of the Payette River Scenic Byway.

Past Gardena I got my first Idaho thank you for pulling over.

Past the junction where we'd joined this road coming from Challis, a sign said I was in Boise National Forest.

The road ran by the Payette River and I was stunned by the incredible amount of whitewater along the way.  Miles of it, then more miles of it.  The Payette doesn't seem to be a regular river but instead a whitewater river.  I wanted to get a photo of it but couldn't seem to find a safe place to pull over.  I finally found this place - below - but you can see at this point it was acting more like a regular river.  It's still pretty, though, which is why I'm putting it in here.

By the time we got to Cascade, we'd gone through more than 60 miles of canyons.  Then at this point we were suddenly in wide meadows ringed by mountains.

Cascade, pop. 1,005, said the fire danger today was moderate.

At the town of Lake Cascade, I saw a large flock of Canada Geese grazing in a field.  And in the next field I saw a large herd of cows grazing.

I came to Donnelly, pop. 249, which bills itself as "Crossroads to Recreation."

At Lake Fork (there are several towns that have the names of the lakes they're near), I saw a sign at a butcher shop that said, "Puns are bad but jokes about sausage are the wurst."

We stopped for a break in McCall, pop. 3,686, elev. 5,324'.  At the gas station they directed me a few blocks off the main street to a park so Dext and I could walk.  It wasn't actually a park but more of a waterside activity area.  Businesses included "Cheap Thrills - Rentals & Watercraft" and "Mile High Marina."  It was a very attractive little area - and extremely popular, even though it was a weekday morning.

I heard on the radio about a book published in 2019 called Do The Work! An Antiracist Activity Book, and a newer companion called Workbook For How To Be An Antiracist.  From the interview I heard on NPR, it sounded like these could be really useful for all of us, to help locate the subconscious ideas that we aren't aware are influencing us.  And you don't have to have a non-white skin to experience prejudice, as most overweight people know, for instance, which is why this information could be broadly helpful.

Almost immediately after McCall I came to another 7% grade for the next 3 miles.  I finally got curious about all these downhills, and learned that Boise is comparatively low at 2,704', but Meridian is actually a little lower, at 2,605'.  So since we'd already done one stretch of 7% grade hills at Horseshoe Bay, yet still ended up above a mile high in McCall, and were now heading down again, this road is a serious rollercoaster.  We came to New Meadows, pop. 517, where the elevation is 3,868'.  This area, by the way, is distinguished by very large meadows, some with crops and some with cows.

I passed the 45th Parallel again - Halfway Between the North Pole and the Equator.

And just past here I got my 2nd Idaho thank you for pulling over.

We crossed the Little Salmon River multiple times and then found ourselves back in the canyons.

I saw a new-looking Trump/Pence sign, which didn't make sense (maybe it just looked new from a distance).  And elsewhere I saw a sign reading: "Celebrate life - Roe is no mo."

At one point I reached down to pat Dext, but he wasn't on the dog beds between the seats.  He wasn't on the seat or on the floor.  I had to assume he was on the beds underneath the table and wondered if he were sharing it with Lily or if he'd preempted her.

When I stopped soon after at a rest area, I found they'd been sharing the bed.  That must be nearly a first for Lily, who's always resisted getting too close to either of the dogs.

Then we were back at Riggins, pop. 410, Idaho's Whitewater Capital.  I noticed that Riggins had little flags for pedestrians to use for greater safety in crossing the road, and I remembered having seen them in McCall, too.  In fact, I actually saw pedestrians use them, though I couldn't tell if the flags made them safer.

We reentered the Pacific Time Zone and just past Riggins we crossed a surprisingly large bridge that went over the Salmon River.

A little farther along the road I saw a sign alerting me to a produce stand coming up, and I remembered it from 3 weeks ago when I'd driven along here southbound.  This time I stopped.

I found some decent-looking peaches, though they reminded me of what peaches looked like when they aren't subjected to massive pesticide doses (they have blemishes).  I asked the owner where they'd been grown, and he said right out the back door.  Cuts down on the farm-to-market problem.

I took this photo just as I was leaving the produce market
to show what the hills in this area looked like.  These are typical
for many of the hills I've seen in Idaho, but they don't look like
those I've seen in other states.

A sign told me I was following the Nez Perce Trail.

I saw a lot of bicycles on this road.  You can see what the hills are like, and I'd think this ride would be only for the very experienced bicyclist.  

I passed a historical marker titled "Salmon River Canyon."  It said,

Some 15 million years ago, Salmon River ran across great Miocene lava flows above here and started to carve this deep canyon.  Then this part of the earth's surface gradually rose.  As the mountains were rising, the river gradually cut down into the older rock below.  Many other northwestern rivers cut similar gorges.  The Snake flows through Hell's Canyon - deepest of them all - 8 miles west of here.

And then I was in the Nez Perce National Forest.  Idaho has 7 national forests, and I think I've been through parts of them all this month.

In this area, the fire danger is high today.

I saw a fire spotting tower up in the hills.  And I crossed the Salmon River a couple more times.

On the radio I heard that the heavy rains they got here this spring are actually causing fire dangers now, because they made the grasses grow tall.  But now with the drought back, the grasses are getting dry.

I came first to a very high bridge over White Bird Creek, then to White Bird Battlefield and historical markers, and then White Bird Summit, 4,245'.  I looked up this battlefield and learned it was one of those US trying to move Native tribes off their historical land and onto reservations situations - and some of the tribal members were ready to fight to avoid that ignominy.  The short version of this situation is on the set of historical markers here.  You can read them at this link.   https://www.hmdb.org/White-Bird-Battlefield

A sign told me to turn for the Tolo Lake Mammoth Site.  I remember seeing that sign when I went by here before and, though I didn't make the turn, I looked it up.  Turns out that when folks were making Tolo Lake deeper, they uncovered 6 or 7 mammoths and an ancient bison.  Down that road I didn't go, they've reconstructed one of the mammoth skeletons for the public.

And then I came to tonight's campground.  My clock said it was 1:25, but my phone said it was 12:25, and I realized I'd gained an hour with the time zone change.

This campground was very nice, lots of trees, and had an excellent wifi signal, but it was still a little weird.  The owner never answered the phone directly but instead returned voicemails, but not until a couple of days later.  A fact I know from my experience because I'd tried for days to get a reservation here.  This place didn't have a separate dog park (it's planned for the future, they say), but it had 2 grassy areas for pet walks.  One of them was very pleasant.  The other was jam packed with Stinging Nettle, or Bull Nettle (its name in Texas) or Devil's Club (Alaska) or whatever that awful plant is called here.  I found out when I got a couple of spines in my foot and found them too small even to see, let alone to pull out.  I just had to live with them till they'd settled in or worked out.  And I don't even want to think about what they were doing to Dexter.  He didn't seem to notice, and when I realized they were there I got us out of that field as fast as I could, but I'm sure he still got stuck at least a bit.  Strange place.

Idaho - Day 21 - in the Boise campground

Meridian/Boise KOA, Meridian
Thursday, 21 July 2022

When I got here, I still didn't know where I would be staying when I left here, so I finally made reservations for the next few nights and planned the driving routes I'd take.

I did some chores and mostly tried to stay cool, because the forecast again was for 100°.  This campground has gravel campsites with small patches of grass but is otherwise completely paved.  That would normally make it easier for Dext to walk, because he's happiest with pavement.  But while we were here it was so hot the pavement seemed to hurt his paws.

The campground had 5 dog parks, and we visited them all.  Three of them were so small we didn't stay longer than about 2 minutes in them - Dext didn't even want to go in one because of how small it was.  But 2 others were bigger.  Still, it was just too hot for us to want to stay out very long.

On Thursday, I started smelling propane in the morning, which of course worried me.  But when we went out for walks I seemed to be able to smell it around the campground here and there too, so I decided it was just a sort of ambient scent - I had the windows open during the morning.  But about noon when it started heating up, I closed up the RV and turned on the AC and then the smell got really strong.  When Dexter and I came back from one of our afternoon walks, the smell really hit me when we got inside.

I went down to the office to ask for help, in case something had happened when I'd bought propane after I registered here yesterday.  So the guy who'd pumped the propane came on down, checked all the valves and things at the propane tank, and then went into the cabin - and the first whiff told him I wasn't imagining it.  Fortunately he thought to check my stovetop, which I hadn't done because I knew I'd used it this morning for coffee with no problems.  But somehow one of the controls got turned to the low setting, so the stove had been spewing propane into the cabin all morning probably.  Very lucky I gave up smoking.  I figure the guy saved my life and thanked him for it.

By then a bunch of bikers had arrived and were pitching tents in the campsites behind me.  The KOA guy made a face but I told him they were usually pretty quiet (except for their bikes) so I didn't mind.  But he told me they were expecting 60 or 70 bikers overnight.  I should have looked up the reason then, or asked some of the bikers, but it honestly didn't occur to me and I'm blaming the heat for that oversight, because I can't find it now.

Despite the heat, I ordered another pizza, figuring that with next month in the wilds of Montana it would likely be a long time before I'd get another one.  You can see this box is full of made-in-Idaho tags.  Actually, I'd hope all pizza would be made in the state it's bought in, but that's not something I know about.

It was a pretty good pizza.

Idaho - Day 20 - back to Boise

Meridian/Boise KOA, Meridian
Wednesday, 20 July 2022

Dext and I found a little park across the street from last night's campground/motel, so we walked around there before leaving town.  A sign there told me Challis was founded in 1878, and that it calls itself "The Wilderness Gateway."  Online I learned that name comes from its proximity to the Frank Church-River of No Return Wilderness, which is the largest wilderness area in the Lower 48.

We also saw what I figured must be a baby Robin, because it had spots on its breast which an adult doesn't, and because it was sitting on the back of a park bench and kept sitting there the whole time we passed it and came within about 4' of it.  Very few Robins are willing to let either dogs or people get that close, and when I looked at the bird book, I found I was right.  Here's an internet photo I found that looks like the bird I saw.

The one in this photo looks pretty small, while the one we saw was much closer to adult size.  But adult Robins don't have those spots.  The one we saw had a redder breast than this one, which is how I knew it was a Robin.

today's route

We stopped on the way out of town for $5.04 gasoline, and I chatted a bit with a guy filling up his ATV.  I asked where he was planning to take it today, and he said just around that area (which seems to encourage ATVs).  But he said they'd originally planned to go exactly where the Moose Fire is currently raging, but with residents being evacuated from that area, they'd decided to postpone that trip.

Just out of town, I turned east for 60 miles, and soon passed 2 flashing yellow lights, and a sign saying "CAUTION Bighorn Sheep on Highway next 2½ Miles."  But I didn't see any sheep, either on or off the highway.  I did see a dead deer on a bridge over the Salmon River.

The road followed that river for many miles, and I saw lots of whitewater and several small waterfalls.

I passed a turn for Historic Bayhorse Ghost Town, 4 miles down the side road.  Apparently this one actually is a ghost town, with no one living there any more.  It was a silver and gold mining town in the 1860s but vanished when the ore played out.

I saw a deer grazing not far from the road, so I slowed down just in case it got spooked and ran in front of me.  That sighting was followed by a sign warning of "Game Crossing Next 25 Miles."

At Clayton, pop. 7 (that's what the sign said), I saw a Rural Fire Department building and wondered who staffed that fire dept. if there were only 7 residents and certainly no other town nearby.  

I saw an abandoned building in town with a sign on it reading, "Environmentalists - You Own This."  I couldn't find anything online that explained what environmental policy had caused trouble for the town.  I did find that the 2000 census logged 27 residents here, and the count had dwindled to 7 by the 2010 census (though in 2020 it went up to 8 and is officially the 2nd smallest town in Idaho, though I couldn't find which was the smallest).

That same abandoned building had a sign supporting Dorothy Moon, who I'd heard had run unsuccessfully for Idaho Secretary of State but successfully for state GOP chair.  She's considered very hard right and is a member of the John Birch Society (her husband serves on its national council).

I passed a historical marker titled "Clayton Smelter" and wondered if the sign explained the town's current small size.  It said those silver discoveries back at Bayhorse inspired Joel Clayton to start a smelter here in 1880, and it managed to find enough ore to stay in business for more than 50 years.  Surely that's not what environmentalists did, because they didn't cause the mines to play out, and the smelter must have closed quite a while back.

But I also learned that Dorothy Moon, who was in the State House during Trump's presidency, supported resolutions urging Congress to prohibit Idahoans from selling their land to conservationists who would then transfer it to a federal agency, and to revoke the wilderness designation from large parts of Idaho.  She also introduced a bill that would authorize killing 90% of Idaho's gray wolves, which an NPR story sounded like it became law - Idahoans thought the wolves killed too many elk; state wildlife managers said they didn't; state government ignored the scientists.

(Who knew I could find so much controversy in such a small town?  It took a lot longer to type this than to drive through the town.)

A sign told me I was on the Salmon River Scenic Byway.  And I often saw the river and the byway was definitely scenic.

This photo shows what I think are lichens (though I wondered if it indicated ore content of the rocks).  I saw these colors off and on for quite a few miles, but this display was the most impressive.

A sign told me "Certified weed-free straw and hay required on federal lands."  I guess that's stuff ranchers would use for their cows?  And the feds want to be sure the ranchers aren't creating a problem with weeds coming in with the grain?

Another sign told me "Designated Camping Area Next 31 Miles."  I was traveling through the Sawtooth National Recreation Area and, up till then, I'd seen actual federal campgrounds now and then.  From this sign on I saw people camping any old place.  Another sign told me "Food Storage Required" with a drawing of a bear.  I'd think food storage could get a little tricky out here in bear country when the feds aren't providing food safes, as they do in the campgrounds.  I sure wouldn't want a bear trying to get into my RV looking for food.

Another sign told me "Slide Area Next 20 Miles" and I had no trouble believing it from looking at the rock walls.  In some areas I'm sure the walls were at 60° - 80° angles to the road (I was using an imaginary protractor in my head to make my estimate), and those areas had chain link covering to ease the rockfall problem.  The pine smell in that area was so strong it came into the RV through the air vents.

Twice today I saw a chipmunk sitting in the road that didn't move as I came near it, and I did my best to dodge it but don't know if it worked.  They're so small I can't see them very far in advance, but I don't know why they just sit there in the road.

Here and there I saw some dilapidated log cabins.

A sign told me "Low Visibility Area" and I wondered why - until I saw a sign for Sunbeam hot springs, and there were areas actually steaming alongside the road.  It was just like being back in Yellowstone.  A little farther on I came to another roadside steamer, this one unmarked.

The road began to take me toward mountains that still had some snow on them, and I stopped for this photo.

Pretty area, isn't it?

I came to the town of Lower Stanley, then Stanley, pop. 63.  A banner across the road told me Stanley is "Celebrating 50 years  1972 - 2022."  Seems a little young, even for a western state.  Tourism seems to be the business here.

Leaving town I pulled over at the very end of the right lane where it merged into the left lane and put my blinker on to show I was stopped for a minute, and a school bus pulled up behind me and just sat.  And even though there were plenty of breaks in the traffic for the bus to merge easily into the left lane, it just sat until I got back on the road, at which point it followed me for miles.  I tried hard to make that seem logical but just couldn't do it.

A sign told me I was now on the Ponderosa Pine Scenic Byway.  And over a stretch of some miles I passed several large burned areas.

I reached Blind Summit, elev. 6.173', so I've been climbing since Challis.  Though I'm now in the Challis National Forest.

Several times I saw deer near the road that bounded away, and once as I came around a corner I saw a deer in the road at the bottom of a hill, but by the time I got there he'd disappeared into the trees.  I saw another dead deer beside the road.

Then I came around a curve and had to stop completely to avoid 1 young and 2 adult mountain goats, who only reluctantly moved off the road.  I came to the conclusion this wasn't a game crossing area but a game hangout area.

Litter cleanup was sponsored by "Whomsoever."  I'm just reporting.

A sign told me I was in an avalanche zone the next 11 miles, 3 miles of which would be a 6% grade and all of which included a rough road.

I stopped for road construction and, since I was the first in line, the guy holding the stop sign came over to chat.  And he talked almost nonstop for the 20 minutes or so we waited.  He told me the burn areas I'd come through weren't done on purpose but must have been lightning or some other cause.  He identified Lodgepole Pine, Ponderosa Pine, Scotch Pine, Blue Spruce and Douglas Fir all right where I was stopped.  He told me that Boise has mushroomed since he grew up there (he was 10 or 15 years younger than me), and that despite being the state capital it had fewer than 100,000 residents until nearly 1980.  (By the 2020 census it had more than doubled that number, so yeah, it's growing a lot.)

I followed the pilot car for nearly 3 miles - a long construction zone.  And then I saw yet another dead deer.  I've noticed before that in some states I see a lot of them and in others I don't see any, or not many.  Idaho definitely ranks high in the first category, so either they've got a lot of people driving too fast, or they've got too many deer (so why do we want to kill all the gray wolves?).

We stopped at a pullout in Lowman, partly to give Dext a break and partly because I wanted to take another look at the map.  There's a choice of roads we could take from here that both head generally for Boise.  The one that looks on the map like the most direct, and is marked by AAA as a scenic route, wasn't the one Google recommended.  Since Google is constantly trying to shove me onto a road because it's the shortest route, this seemed odd to me.  But when I went on Google Maps or whatever it is - the thing that lets me see the actual roads and surroundings - I could see that the shorter route was a constant series of hairpin turns and the like.  I'm sure it's gorgeous and when I come back to Idaho will want to take it.  The pullout where we stopped was the junction of these roads and I was interested to see quite a few RVs and campers taking the hairpin route and wondered if Google had changed its mind.  But this time I decided I'd go with my original plan.

I found myself on the Wildlife Canyon Scenic Byway.  A sign with 2 blinking yellow lights warned me "Critical Winter Range - Watch for Wildlife Crossing Next 4 Miles."  All I saw were lots of butterflies - but then I'd already passed through the wildlife hangout area.

At the town of Garden Valley, I came to Davey's Bridge.  I wondered who Davey was, and I still don't know, but I do know the bridge design got mentioned for its greatness.  This article has some info and a picture of the bridge.   https://highways.fhwa.dot.gov/daveys-bridge 

I turned onto yet another road (I was on 4 separate state and county highways today) that followed a river, this time the Payette River.  A sign told me I was now on the Payette River Scenic Byway.  And I stopped at a pullout with a sort of view of the river (Dext needed a walk), and I saw an odd sign:  

                     Missing: 27 year old male 

        Involved in vehicular accident July 14th 2022 

                  and hasn't been found since.

It included a photo of him.  This left me with a lot of unanswered questions, aside from where this guy had disappeared to.  What happened at that accident scene, how do they know he was in an accident, why did they phrase it as "hasn't been found" as if he were a lost object as opposed to "hasn't been seen" which is more like a volitional human being - and so forth.  And I'm pretty sure the sign didn't include his name.  All very odd, though of course I hope he's all right and maybe just suffered amnesia or something.

At the town of Gardena I crossed the Payette River twice, so I guessed there must be a horseshoe bend in town.

And a little farther on, I came to the town of Horseshoe Bend, pop. 715.  Followed by a pass with no name but an elevation sign: 4,242'.  And a 7% grade for the next 2 miles, making me wonder if Boise is in a bowl.

I saw an ox grazing in a field.  It took me several minutes to realize that's what that animal was.

I kept coming to towns with no signs, and I identified them by the map or by the names on businesses.  Eagle seemed to have a lot of laser-related businesses.

And then I came back to Boise, pop. 205,671, according to the sign.  And I crossed the Boise River.

I'd forgotten that when I'd been in this area before I'd learned that it's called Treasure Valley.  I wondered why and learned online that the nickname includes this whole southwestern Idaho/southeastern Oregon area where a whole bunch of rivers drain into the Snake River.  The Chamber of Commerce president (didn't you know it) came up with the name to describe the "treasure chest of resources and opportunities" here.

It reminds me that the Twin Falls area is called Magic Valley, and that's because a couple of dams and irrigation canals on the Snake River "magically" transformed the desert region into highly productive farmland.

Anyway, I came to Boise today because I hadn't yet seen the state capitol.  And I chose regular roads through town instead of the interstate, and I think that's where I took this photo.

see detail below -
isn't that Rockefeller Center?

I've never seen a mural like this one.

I'm sorry to say that I didn't write down where I took this, but that's because the light changed to green and I had to move and forgot.  But I think it was Boise.

I found the capitol with no problem, but I could see it was just about impossible for me to find a place where I could take a photo, so I relied on what's online.

Idaho State Capitol

It was built in 1905, completed in 1920, and is the only state capitol in the country to be heated by geothermal water.  It's pumped from a source 3,000' underground.  I understand that's an eagle perched on top of the dome, but I wasn't able to see it when I was there, and none of the photos I found show it, so I have to go on faith.

From the capitol, I took surface roads to a grocery store, and from there back to the Meridian Bark Park, where we'd been twice before.  This time it was really hot - the forecast was for 102° and it may have been close to that - and many of the dogs were splashing in and out of wading pools to stay cool.  But Dext doesn't like to get wet and though he went up to the pools, he didn't even stick his feet in.  And though he has a thin coat which seems to help keep him cool, he's still a black dog and it seemed the heat started to bother him after a little bit.  He just wasn't as up for running around with the other dogs as he'd been before, though he was plenty willing to sniff any who came his way.

From there we went the half mile or so back to the campground where we'd been almost 3 weeks before and where we were scheduled to stay 2 nights.

Idaho - Day 19 - the drive to Challis

Pioneer Motel & RV Park, Challis
Tuesday, 19 July 2022

Today's drive, according to Google, wouldn't even take as long as 2 hours, so we didn't get on the road until 10:00, after Dext got 2 walks and a stint in the Kamp K9 park.

today's route

The main point of today's route was to go by Mt. Borah, Idaho's tallest point.  According to online information, I'd drive almost right by it and a historical marker about it.  So off we went.

A sign told me I was on the Peaks to Craters Scenic Byway.  Well, I'd seen the craters (those of the moon), and I was heading toward the peaks.

At Moore, pop. 179, I found this sign, which wasn't one I'd ever seen before.

I learned that King Mountain is 10,612' high and would normally be known as a climbing site.  But it has 2 well-known and popular launch sites for hang gliders, and that's what's made it famous.  I couldn't find an uncopyrighted photo of it online and didn't take one myself.

Also in town I saw a poster saying "Ammon Bundy for Governor."  It was the first of 2 that I saw today.  I was curious to know if he'd survived a primary fight and learned that he didn't have one.  He's running as an Independent.  He's opposed by a Republican, a Democrat, a Libertarian, and a member of the Constitution party - all 4 of whom survived primary challenges.  That's a lot of candidates.

I passed a mining operation for U.S. Calcium, which is working on a large field of limestone.

I've been surprised to find LDS churches even in very small towns in Idaho.

I passed 2 "Farmers for Trump" signs.

Mackay, pop. 517, bills its Mackay Rodeo as "Idaho's Wildest Rodeo."  The town stretches out so far along the road that I think I saw the homes of all 517 residents.

A sign told me I was in the Salmon-Challis National Forest.  This forest is where the Moose Fire is currently blazing.  The fire is farther north than where I'll be going, and I'm glad I hadn't made plans (which I'd thought of doing).

I passed the Mackay Dam and the large long Mackay Reservoir, where lots of RVs were boondocking along the bank, apparently for fishing.  And I passed the Mackay Fish Hatchery, so good guess.

I passed a historical marker titled "Goddin's River."  The original Goddin was an Iroquois explorer who came to this area with beaver trappers.  Once the beaver had been wiped out (as usual for this country), people forgot the original name.  In recent times, the river is called the Lost River, more specifically the Big Lost River.  I've crossed it several times this morning, and have learned it got its name because it doesn't flow into another river but instead sinks into the underground source that supplies the Snake River.

Suddenly, the check engine light started flashing, the first time it's come on since last Thursday.  Too bad.  I'd been hoping it had reset itself.

For much of the drive I've been seeing the mountains of the Lost River Range off my right side.  Then I saw a sign pointing toward Leatherman Peak.  Well, I hadn't heard about it so didn't understand why it deserved its own sign, but I now know that at 12,228', it's the 2nd highest point in Idaho.

I was barely going 60 mph in a 65 mph zone because I wanted to see things.  But I've been noticing that Idaho doesn't give advance notice of most of their informational signs so I'm missing them.  For instance, I passed an old cabin with 2 signs beside it, though I have no idea what the story is with the cabin.  And I passed multiple signs that seemed to be about waterfowl in that area - but I was already almost past them before I realized they were there.  This road is fine, but it's only 2 lanes with no shoulder, and it's a main traffic artery for this region, so it's impossible even to think about stopping and backing up to read some signs.  I wish Idaho would assume passers-by wanted to know what they were willing to tell.

And then we came to a pullout area for Mount Borah, which was my goal.

Mt. Borah, Idaho's tallest peak

Pictures I found online show that it's really pretty when it's got snow on it, which may be fairly often since it's 12,662' tall.

At the same pullout, I found this historical marker about an earthquake fault that's nearby.  A sign directed me 2.5 miles down a gravel road to see this site described below.

The sign called it "Earthquake Fault Site Scenic Attraction."  Apparently there are more signs there explaining what happened to the land from this earthquake (and 1983 wasn't that long ago) which I would have liked to see, but I've had my fill of Idaho's gravel roads so decided to save it for another trip.

Instead, Dexter and I walked a short way down the road (Dext prefers paved roads; the rocks seem to hurt his feet) and I got a couple of photos of a nearby farm.

Farming in the desert looks like hard work to me.

This is an example of those windbreaks
I've been seeing around houses.

A little farther down the road, we came to Willow Creek Summit, 7,160'.  This is definitely some high desert around here.

In a field I saw 2 horses facing each other with their heads close to each other.  And in the shadow between their heads I saw a small colt.

I passed a sign that said I was entering the Challis Herd Management Area.  The "herd" that's being managed are wild horses and the Bureau of Land Management has more than 150,000 acres included in this management area.  

A separate sign nearby said I was also entering the Challis Experimental Stewardship Area.  That's a program from the USDA's Natural Resources Conservation Service, and in this area multiple government agencies have worked together in sponsoring demonstration plantings of a range of plants they hope can help rehabilitate rangeland and wildlife habitat.  The plantings were done in the early 1980s and success varied depending on the amount of rainfall in the different areas tested (no surprise).

A sign told me I was entering Grand View Canyon, which I hadn't heard of and still can't find much information for online.  My search keeps getting confused with the town of that name and with Hell's Canyon, so I still don't know how deep this canyon is.  The road, which was about a mile long in this area, curves (many times) and goes downhill (northbound) with 2 lanes and no shoulder, so it felt a little claustrophobic at times.  I don't know how on earth they built that road.

This photo below doesn't show it at all - the canyon with its rock walls going straight up.  Instead, this is the only place I could find to pull off and take a photo of the rock.  Just around that curve, the road drops some more and the walls close back in.

I passed lots of farmland, mostly grain and a little canola.  Cows and horses - lots of grazing land.  I passed a sign for Challis Hot Springs 5 miles down a side road.

Then, coming into the town of Challis, I crossed the Salmon River and the Land of the Yankee Fork State Park, just on the edge of town.  I think the park got its name from a tributary of the Salmon River, and that was named by a party of Montana gold prospectors.  They hadn't found any gold here but decided to name the tributary Yankee Fork because all those prospectors were Yankees.  I suppose that's a good reason, though I'm not sure why later Idahoans decided to keep it.

There wasn't a sign for Challis, but I was curious and learned that its population in 2020 was 1,127 and its elevation is 5,253' (almost a mile up).  The town's name is pronounced like "the chalice from the palace (has the brew that is true)," dialog from that wonderful old Danny Kaye and Angela Lansbury movie The Court Jester.

Tonight's campsite was behind a motel, and when I called for the reservation they told me that it was really more of a motel and the campground wasn't particularly professional, though they had all the usual amenities.  I chose them over the town's other campground because this one was in town, which would give Dext and me some place to walk to.  And it turned out fine.

Here are some photos from town.

St. Louise Catholic Church

bristling with communications

a mural of the "Fourth of July parade 1898"

This poster was on the front
door of the Masonic lodge.

And this is the Masonic Lodge.

Certainly there was more to the town than this, but it seemed really hot so Dext and I came back to the RV.  It wasn't forecast to get more than 92° and that climate is certainly dry, so I'm not sure why it seemed so hot, but it did.

Today was my momma's birthday and I was missing the family that I didn't have any more (including Gracie), so I called the family I still have and had a nice talk with David and Anna.  They said it was 109° in Dallas today - and it's been like that for days and is expected to continue for a while.  They said they'd been to visit my cousin Angie who's been in the hospital for several weeks now with some serious health problems, and reported that she's finally doing better, which is encouraging.  Sometimes it's hard to be so far from family, though you'd think I'd be used to it after living for 31 years in Alaska and Washington.  Maybe it feels different because I'm older.