The next morning started off wobbly. We replenished the ice in the coolers and packed them in the pickup, along with our overnight bags and laptops, but just when I thought we were ready to hit the road, Jill began rigourously reorganizing the contents of the cab. I stared, startled, for a moment, because to me, everything looked just fine. I made a lunge for my laptop when I saw it about to disappear precariously under bags behind the seat. I had a bucket load of photos on my hard drive that I really didn’t fancy losing to an unfortunate whack should something fall on it. While Jill moved bags around in the back of the cab, I looked around for something to make me feel useful, and ended up busying myself with some wire management up front – we had cellphone chargers and I’d picked up an inverter to plug into the cigarette lighter, so we could charge our laptops as we drove on those days when we were camping at spots without power. This was twenty-first century car camping at its finest, and by finest I mean least unplugged, which is not necessarily fine at all. We have swapped maps for GPS systems that bark directions with strangely dislocated voices, we have swapped books for readers that light up the night sky and we have swapped letter-writing for emails and try as you might, you can’t scent an email with perfume. But I digress. When Jill was done with her reorganization, I put my laptop case out of harm’s way and slipped back into the passenger seat. The air was fraught with tension but we switched on the radio, pumped up the volume and let the raw vocals of Roger Daltry blasting “Who Are You?” sweep us away.
Just outside of Twin Falls, we stopped by the Perrine Bridge for a dazzling view of the Snake River. The water shimmered metallic green and I spotted the slightest tumble of waterfall in the distance. A speedboat traced a curve down the river and I remembered seeing old television footage of another disturbance of the waters not too far from here. In 1974 daredevil Evil Knievel famously didn’t jump Snake River Canyon with his rocket-powered motorbike. Instead, he shot 1,000 feet in the air and then plummeted into the canyon below. From where I stood today, it looked like an awfully long plummet.
We got back on I-84 going east, past fields of crops being irrigated to withstand the heat of the summer. The sprays of water caught the light and momentary rainbows appeared and disappeared as we drove past them. The road up ahead shimmered hazily in the heat. Just past Burley, Snake River lived up to its name, snaking under the freeway, and then I-84 veered off to the right, cutting a southeast line towards the Utah border.
Southern Idaho surprised me; delighted me, actually. My only experience with Idaho to date had been the paltry stretch of I-90 that crosses Idaho on the way from Washington to Montana. It spans all of 90 miles, passing through the rather unremarkable city of Post Falls and then through Couer d’Alene, Idaho’s second largest metropolitan area. Coeur d’Alene, abbreviated to CdA and pronounced, with gross disregard to its French origin, as Corduh Lane, is a booming tourist spot boasting nearby ski resorts, a pristine golf course and of course, the beautiful Lake Couer d’Alene. I witnessed my very first Fourth of July fireworks display from the shores of that lake. But writing this paragraph has taken me almost the same length of time it would take you to drive along I-90 into Idaho and out the other side. It is gone in the blink of an eye, so it’s understandable why one might think of Idaho as being on the small side. The thin strip of Idaho that reaches up to the Canadian border measures a mere 45 miles east to west at points, but that is deceptive. Further south, the state broadens dramatically, expanding to a width of 310 miles along the Utah border. From north to south, it spans the length of both Washington and Oregon states. It is huge; a fact that was becoming more apparent the further south we drove. Ireland’s landmass could fit quite easily within its borders; so easily, that Iceland could move in too, and there would still be enough space left to allow Denmark to sleep on the sofa once in a while.
Mountain ranges now vied for attention, for we were leaving the Snake River Plain, a curious depression that cuts an east-west arc across the southern part of Idaho. Its geologic history remains a mystery and looking at topographical maps of the area, you would swear someone was trying to draw a smiley face across the Rockies. Out my window, the Cotterell and Jim Sage Mountains put on a distant display of grandeur, followed by an in-your-face view of the Black Pine Mountains as we neared the Utah border.
Salt Lake City whipped by without so much as a “by your leave”. I strained for a view of the Great Salt Lake but it was mostly hidden from view by telephone poles, wires, concrete walls and metal girders, which, coupled with the inconsiderate banking of the road that dipped down low and angled away at every available opportunity, afforded just a few short bursts of strangely pale blue water, too quick for my camera. Never mind, we were in Utah. I felt a mounting sense of excitement; it felt like we were starting to arrive somewhere, for we had pledged to spend time exploring this state, rather than rush through. Adventure beckoned.
As it turns out, we didn’t have to wait too long. Not far past Salt Lake City the skies darkened and ominous clouds drifted into view. Then the heavens opened their floodgates and refused to close them again. The rain got heavier, thick fog descended and visibility was dreadful, but the rain kept coming and at one point got so heavy we had to pull off to the side of the road and stop altogether. Water was flowing in waves down the highway and the windscreen looked as if we were underwater. We sat there, bewildered, for a good ten minutes until the frantically flapping windshield wipers started to win the battle against the deluge and we could see the road again.
Here comes the rain
We pulled off at the next rest stop to take stock of the situation. This was definitely not what we had expected in the middle of the Utah desert in summer. We watched the fog swirling around distant rocky outcrops and spotted the telltale black streaks of heavy rain moving in. There was another major storm up ahead and it was moving our way. We jumped back in the truck and drove as quickly as we could to Moab. It was dark by the time we pulled onto Main Street and it was wet and cold to boot. Jill suggested a motel, but we had budgeted for camping and besides, I had already psyched myself up to spend the night in the great outdoors. It was late and we wanted to stop as soon as possible to get set up before the storm kicked off, so we abandoned our plan to camp on the dry site we had looked at before. We pulled into the very first camp site we spotted, drove around for a few minutes and found a site with no one else around. There were facilities – showers and a toilet – and each tent site had a corrugated plastic cover overhead. My heart lightened, happy in the knowledge that should the storm hit, we had substantial cover, and thrilled that I wouldn’t have to cop a squat in the bushes.
Jill got started on the tent while I prepped a chickpea, onion and red pepper curry with rice and a generous amount of wine. We had an interesting time figuring out the camping stove – the stove itself was easy enough to assemble, but the propane cannister proved tricky. Should we take the cap off or not? What about the nozzle on the side? We got it figured out, but not before both of us took turns running for cover, fearing a sinister explosion. Thankfully, it didn’t explode and soon the smell of curry filled the air.
I’m of the mind that you’re not really camping unless you have a campfire, so I went looking for kindling and downed branches. When the food was ready, I lit the pile of scraggly twigs I’d heaped into the fire pit and watched as it blazed for about 30 seconds before sputtering out. It was a bit anticlimactic, I’ll admit, but the embers glowed brightly for a little longer and the delicious smell of wood smoke lingered for hours. We ate the curry and sipped wine and then we sat down at the picnic table and fired up our laptops. Jill worked on her resume and I wrote something for my travelogue, and there we sat, in silence, working into the night. I cleaned the dishes in a little sink over by the bathrooms while Jill packed the food into the back of the cab, so there wouldn’t be anything around to “attract animals”, as she put it.
“Except people”, I thought. Campers go to great pains to lock food in cars and stash garbage behind animal-proof grids but happily lie out in the open with nothing but a thin layer of canvas between them and wildlife foraging around with a dose of the munchies. To make life easier for the animals, campers thoughtfully truss themselves up in snugly-fitted sleeping bags that make fighting back impossible. Mountain lions have been spotted wandering the streets of Moab, blocks from where we were now camped. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to see a mountain lion; but the operative word in that sentence is ‘see’, because it implies that I am awake, conscious and able to react appropriately to perceived danger should it arise.
I have trekked through the jungle at night, explored the subterranean depths of caves half-submerged in water and climbed active volcanoes, so can justifiably lay claim to a healthy sense of adventure, but it is tempered by an equally healthy spirit of survival. I seek out opportunities to see animals in the wild; there truly is no thrill quite like it, but I respect the fact that they are wild, keep a safe distance and study their behaviour for warnings. Much as I love animals, I have no desire to be their lunch.
So you see, I don’t have a problem with a certain amount of risk, and I don’t have a problem with camping; in fact it’s quite fun. It’s the sleeping part that is problematic. I don’t understand why a perfectly reasonable human being would go to a place where he knows there are things that can kill him, then lay down and fall asleep. Why would you do that? It’s the equivalent of a mouse taking a nap in the cat box. Honestly, if the cat came along and bit off the mouse’s head, you’d probably think, well, it was a stupid place to take a nap. Which is presumably what the unnamed camper from Marin was thinking on July 1st of this year when he awoke from a dead sleep on the banks of the Yuba River to find a mountain lion standing on his face. I wonder if he kept his name out of the paper because he felt a bit silly for not having booked a motel?
I couldn’t put if off any longer; it was time for bed. Convinced I would not sleep a wink, I grabbed my copy of Travels with Charley and a reading light to while away the hours. Jill insisted we leave our shoes outside so I feigned compliance, but when she wasn’t looking I grabbed my shoes and smuggled them inside the tent. I didn’t want scorpions taking up residence in them overnight, and if a mountain lion did attack tonight, I could bang it in the face with them before it bit off my head. As I turned the pages of my book, I was happy to discover that John Steinbeck had fallen in love with Montana just as I had. Despite my best intentions, and without realising it, I drifted off to sleep.
(Continued here.)
Here’s a quick video of my travels today
Where's my backpack? 
I like your photographic and video adventure. The speed boat on snake river created a nice design for that photograph. Engjoy the rest of your trip….
Thanks Mary 🙂
Love your treatise on campers and the propane canister. So funny. I would have headed for the motel. I tried camping once, but it and I did not get along. There was heavy rain and a leaky tent involved.
Sounds perfectly awful, Jennifer – at least our tent didn’t leak 🙂
More awful than that, even. While setting up the tent, I had clobbered my thumb with the sledge hammer while pounding in a tent peg.
Yikes. Yes, in hindsight, maybe a motel would have been a better choice!
For me, at least 🙂
There are times when you should block thoughts of certain things – like, when tent camping, you block all thoughts of wild animals. DO NOT remember those stories you’ve heard of bears and lions crashing into the tents to see what they could find.
Love your photos, and your words.
Hee hee, I find the harder I try not to think about something, the more I think about it! Glad you’re enjoying the journey Carol. xxx
Fun! Glad you didn’t become mountain lion lunch, or even dinner 🙂
(Actually, I worry more about people than about animals when camping…)
I would probably have been too spicy for a mountain lion’s taste anyway, Vlad, he’d have pushed me to the side of his plate after a few bites 😉 You make a good point about other people being more of a concern that animals. xxx
Lovely post! I applaud you for sticking to your camping plans; if I were with you, I would have dropped you off at the campsite and headed for the nearest hotel 🙂
Haha, good to know, Angeline, should we ever hit the road together!
Fun! I’d hate to think what could go wrong when I’m having fun. And as Vladimir wrote, I worry more about the people.
It’s true, bebs1, people are more likely to do harm than animals.
Enjoying the trip with you…
Yaay, enjoying having you along for the ride, bulldogsturf! xxx
such a wonderful blog! Your prose is outstanding! 🙂
beans, peppers and onions, yum! I think i wouldve added rotel and cumin to this instead of the curry. Humor me; I’m Mexican. 🙂
Good call, bubblytee – I’m thinking the lime/cilantro Rotel would go down a treat! Thanks so much for the compliment, it’s lovely to get such wonderful feedback about my prose. 🙂
I flew to Montain 40 yrs ago when i was 15. I went to a funeral (flew to Billings and took a bus to Forsyth) and remember very little about it…but do remember a vast expanse of land…
cant wait to see your images and see if it all comes back to memory. thank you ~
Montana was really one of the most beautiful places, bubblytee, I hope you get to go back there someday. xxx
Loved your video, Ailsa. What an adventure you’re having. I’m so with you on your “mouse taking a nap in the cat box” theory. 🙂
I thought you might like that, ad!
I am glad to read that you did camp and that you didnt have to go squat in the woods ( I like a seat to sit on )… I too am more worried about other people camping than animals…
I’m happy enough going without showers, but toilets, yeah, I’m with you on that one!
I’m laughing that it was Jill who suggested the motel and you who declined despite niggling thoughts of scorpions and mountain lions! I’d have been all over that motel! – Suzan –
Haha, I’m not one to back down from a challenge, Suzan 😉
I too agree with your “mouse taking a nap in the cat box” theory. New Zealand is a good place for camping – there aren’t any wild animals or poisonous things to kill you – but the US, Australia, and most of the rest of the world – don’t do it!
I am looking forward to the rest of your tale.
Ooh, New Zealand – I’ve always wanted to visit, and now I might even consider camping there. Camping in Australia though – never gonna happen! 🙂
Loving the trip!
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device
Yaay, glad to hear it, Charlene. Hope you’re keeping well! xxx Ailsa
Camping in Australia is really awesome. There is nothing to eat you, so no worries in that score. If you enjoy solitude, then the desert is just magic (in sensible seasons). I have camped under the stars in Africa a few times and many times at campsites. The thought of wild animals being a problem never really occurred to me! (But I did have a good giggle at your mouse in the cat box theory – that was very well written and very funny!)
A few decades ago I joined a camping trip which took 3 months to travel the Middle East and Asia. I loved it. The only time it got a bit tough was when we had a few snowy days and it was so cold.
I think most times there is little to fear from wild animals who usually have better things to do than to hang around near humans! Of course, common sense should always rule if in any doubt 🙂
Wow, that camping trip through the Middle East and Asia sounds amazing, Madoqua; so does sleeping under the stars in Africa. You just sold me on it. 🙂
Another great episode Ailsa. I particularly enjoyed your analogy between camping and the mouse in the cat box. Camping in the UK is a very safe afair. No spiders that can hurt you, scorpions, man eating wild animals, it’s just the weather that can be a bit of a bind. 🙂
Ahh, yes, the great British summer – I’m all too familiar with it, Chillbrook! 😉
Am hanging on to your backpack Ailsa 🙂 great stuff . I love the way you put size of Idaho into perspective with fitting in Ireland Iceland and Denmark !!
We stayed in Moab a couple of years ago before exploring Arches National Park … we didnee see no Lions 😉
I await your next instalment ……
I am happy to report I didn’t encounter any mountain lions either, poppytump. Whew!
Thank you for this beautiful summary, pictures and video. I feel like I just went on a road trip too. I have never been to Twin Falls and it is breathtaking. Your pictures capture its depth; wow! Simply gorgeous!
The colour of the water is what fascinated me, petit4chocolatier, it almost seemed to glow. 🙂
Sounds like a role reversal…isn’t Jill the camper and you not? Surprised you turned down the opportunity of a motel.
Terrific pictures..the first and last…fantastic!
Ah, in an ideal world, maybe, but in a world that contains trip budgets…
What an adventure! We used to camp in Rocky mountains when we lived in Colorado. Beautiful mountains scenery. Thank you, Ailsa!
Colorado is one state I must visit, Amy, I hear it’s spectacular.
It’s good to read about the continuation of your adventure, Ailsa. Loving it.
And thanks for sharing the photos that you’ve taken along the way, it’s like taking us there with you.
Thanks, Gracie, I’m glad you are travelling along virtually with me on my journey! xxx Ailsa
I like to think i’m adventurous but camping – in the gentle English countryside with its dangerous wild rabbits, foxes and badgers it’s bad enough for me!
oh and don’t forget the squirrels and deer 🙂 🙂 🙂
I’m with you, Gilly, I love camping so long as the worst I have to worry about is a man-eating rabbit 🙂
G’day Ailsa I just love your beautifully descriptive writing I can really visualize the country you are traveling through. The photos are stunning. Waiting with baited breath for the next episode….
Have you ever been to the States, pommepal? You’d love it!
We spent 6 weeks in 1991, bought a 4 week Delta air pass and zoomed around from place to place seeing highlights and staying in back packers and hostels then had 2 weeks on Greyhound along the east coast. Lots of fabulous memories and albums full of old photos!!!I would love to come back again.
Nice! I haven’t heard of the Delta air pass, do they still do it? How much fun.
I believe Delta was one of the airlines that went into receivership a few years back. It was an incredible way to get around just rolled up to the airport and told them where you wanted to go and they popped you on the first available flight, and very cheap back then
Oh boy, that sounds amazing. Ahh, the good old days!
It was so easy to get around back then, so many restrictions now since 7/11
Great travel experience with the element of surprise, the storm, and great photos.
I love a good thunderstorm, Valentina, although I prefer watching them from indoors! 🙂
Where’s the next episode please?
Writing it now! 🙂
🙂
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