You'd be Much More Interesting if You Knew Stuff

Coming up the Salmon Scenic Byway into the Sawtooth Mountains we saw many changes in the landscape. It went from forested and lush to dry and barren.

It was such a long drive that after awhile we grew silent, not knowing how to describe what we were seeing. "Oh, that's a weird looking mountain." "Look at that rock." It occurred to me that Robert and I could be having a terrific conversation if only either of us had any remembrance of Geology 101 back in college.

So, instead, we tuned in Disney Channel on XM Radio and listened to Allison sing along.

Theirs is sexier

Hotshots, Helitec, Smokejumpers, Incident Commander, ICP, backburning, bambi bucket. These are just a few of the terms people who live in forested areas are familiar with. It struck me as funny how different regions in America have not only their own dialect, but also a vocabulary related to their unique "disaster" concerns. In the Midwest we use "tornado warning" and "tornado watch" (often confusing the two). We know the terms: downdraft, micro-cell, funnel cloud, run-to-the-basement.
Growing up in California I knew these: fault-line, tremor, after-shock, seismograph, Richter scale. Luckily, I never experienced anything more than a mild earthquake.

Of course, I wouldn't wish for us in the Midwest to add any more potential natural disasters to the menu, but the stuff (and fit firefighters) used to combat wildfires sure is cool.

Follow the Salmon River

We woke up still exuberant about our previously fabulous day in Blaine County. We love this little piece of Idaho. So naturally, we couldn't wait to see more. We left beautiful Ketchum to take the scenic rode to Salmon, Idaho. And it was picture-perfect scenic. Every mile following along the Salmon River was breathtaking. The river is shallow so it's always rippling over the round rocks that make up its bed. I hung my head out the window like a dog lapping up the fresh air, trying to snap photos. I wished Robert could hang his head out too, but somebody had to drive. We should have just stopped and camped for the night, but the drive was so exhilarating we just kept going and going. Hours and hours. Not knowing any better I kept urging us on to Salmon like it was the Emerald City at the end of a long winding road. Was I wrong. So today, I added another new nugget to our travel wisdom bag: Don't pass up a good thing believing a better thing awaits you just a tad further down the road.

When we finally got to the town of Salmon we were met with two disappointments: The beauty of the drive suddenly dissolved into an unattractive town, and, there was a heavy smoky haze in the air. We wondered if it was smoke from the central Idaho fires just blowing up the state, but it only got worse as we kept driving. We asked someone about it and she shrugged, unconcerned. "We have fires all the time. Sometimes it's smoky. If you'd been here this morning you'd seen clear skies." Well, then.

We passed up North Fork as too claustrophobic with the dense forest and heavy fire smoke. If there is a fire nearby, we'd like a good vantage point to see it from and a quick route to escape. Suddenly we were climbing over the Bitterroot Mountains. The smoke was so thick that the sun turned red. Next thing we know, we're in Montana, (probably the ugliest entrance, too with all the burnt trees) and wondering where to find a campsite. This corner of Montana seems to be a center for logging and businesses related to the building trades. Also we noticed quite a few chiropractic offices tucked between the casinos. Logging has to be hard on the back.

So here we are in a campground south of Missoula I don't even know the name of. We pulled in at dusk and didn't bother to unhitch. We'll sleep, get up early and head north to Glacier Park, hopefully to clear skies.

Fire and Ice

We lucked out. The Castle Rock fires near Ketchum are not much of a threat at the moment. Firefighters say they should be completely contained by Monday. As a precaution, the town cancelled most Labor Day weekend events and the crowds stayed away giving us a rare glimpse into a quiet Ketchum. We even have perfect weather, too. Today we rented bicycles and rode the Wood River bike trail that runs some 20 miles through the valley, mostly along the river. Beautiful.

We got a bit ambitious and rode all the way to Hailey from Ketchum. Once there, we were too tired to ride the 13 miles back. We browsed a few stores and ate lunch at Shorty's (owned by Bruce Willis.) All over town thank you signs to the firefighters are posted in store windows. The residents are very grateful to them for saving their towns. There are over 1500 firefighters in town. Most are camped in pup tents on an open field in Ketchum. You gotta love their heartiness. The billionaires who own homes in Ketchum, Sun Valley, and Hailey sure do. Not one home was lost to the fierce wildfires. Nor one piece of art. A brisk business was made of removing valuable art from homes in the wake of the fire threat.
So far, the towns are safe, though the scare will put a sore dent in the economy. The loss of revenue expected from Labor Day weekend will be hard on merchants. Still, storekeepers were offering big discounts and freebies to the firefighters in gratitude.

We ended up loading our bicycles into a taxi van back to Ketchum. We rested, cleaned up, and went to dinner at the Pioneer Saloon. I finally had that Old Fashioned cocktail that the bartender in Deadwood recommended to me. No, not my favorite. Allison was put off by all the animal trophies hung along the walls. I thought the place was terrific. Robert had an Idaho baked potato the size of Rhode Island. After dinner, we went to the Sun Valley Ice Rink to see a show that included Olympic medalist, Sasha Cohen. Why that event didn't get cancelled, I don't know, but we were glad to enjoy it.

Ketchum or bust

Craters of the Moon, big snore. Even Robert winced a little. I think he was expecting a meteor crater like the one in Arizona. This was more like acres of upturned asphalt. Weird, definitely. While I grilled the park ranger about fire conditions in Ketchum, Robert skimmed the visitors' center to learn the origin of the the "craters." Yawn. Lava field, essentially. Okay, can we go now? Allison was weary and wanted to stay at the tiny RV park at the site, but I fixed that by telling her there were "crater monsters" out there and we should leave right away. Yes, let's go to where there are forest fires instead.

Since we'd come all this way and we were so close to the turnoff to Blaine County, we decided to go for it. The fires were mostly contained we were told and a few phone calls to local RV parks told us that the area was back up and running. We set our sights on making it past Hailey to the Meadows RV park. If we felt uncomfortable with the situation--if the air was too hazy or the locals started looking anxious-we'd circumvent and keep moving. After leaving the lava fields the drive became pretty. The mountains on the approach to Sun Valley were an unusual olive green, or maybe sage green since it was only sage that dotted the hills, and even though the valley floor was green with crops, the soil was bumpy and rocky. The skies were bright blue with masses of puffy white clouds. The whole setting was so pastoral and calming that all my apprehension faded away. Once we hit Hailey the man-made charm began. The main thoroughfare through town was lined with attractive shops and restaurants. We passed under a marquee announcing Bruce Willis' band playing tomorrow night. Darn, we have a seven-year old with us. We'll be walking trails and visiting wagon museums and the Sun Valley Ice Rink. But, Hailey, Idaho is just so darned cute, just like it's name. Try repeating Hailey, Idaho three times in a row. You'll sound like a kindergartner chanting vowels.

There is a faint whiff of wildfire smoke in the air, but for the most part the skies are clear and it appears we have made a lucky move. Many events were canceled and the usual Labor Day weekend crowd is a no-show. All the better for us to discover Hemingway's last haunt.

All the news in Idaho that's unfit to print

Goodbye, Wyoming. What a beautiful state you are. Now, we give Idaho a look-see. Unfortunately, we won't see enough due to the wildfires that have ravaged the central region and taken Sun Valley and Mr. Hemingway off our agenda. None of us has ever visited Idaho before so this is a disappointment. We had planned to drive from Ketchum up towards Salmon along a scenic road that follows the Salmon River. As is stands, we are driving from Idaho Falls to the Craters of the Moon and from there heading north. If possible, we will swing by Salmon if it is safe.

For such a big fire event, we have heard little detailed information about it. Everyone I asked in Yellowstone 0r Jackson had sketchy information. I tried logging into to the U.S. Forestry something-or-other site and discovered little. Robert says, "Let's just go. If it's unsafe there will be signs." So we chugged out of Jackson Hole this morning up a surprising 10% grade to head to poor old Idaho.

What news I've read reports that residents in Ketchum were asked to evacuate earlier this week. A clerk at the convenience store in Swan Valley told me what she knew: that smoldering pine cones were rocketing out from the forest fires to land in people's yards two miles away in Ketchum. That's an image that piqued our interest. Fiery pine cone missiles. Hmmm. No, better not go. Hemingway will have to wait. If there are forest fires you wouldn't know it; all the news out of Idaho is about their fallen senator, Larry Craig, who's naughty transgression in a Salt Lake City restroom is sending the Republicans into panic mode.

We don't care about that. We're just bewildered little tourists looking for a little direction. Hello, Idaho. Got anything nice to show us?