Idaho Notes Final Edition, October 1, 2020: Yesterday marked the anniversary of one year of this grand adventure. I’m grateful that I have been able to spend my seventy-ninth year continuing to explore the world, taking risks and. emerging myself into this new adn often strange part of the country. This has been a big challenge, perhaps the toughest. Like most change it has involved both grief and growth, sometimes I am not sure which has been the most instructive.
A new place in a new geography usually attracts me. I have wondered what it would be like to live in the desert, and voila! here I a m. The harshness of the countryside can be so distracting and may seem devoid of beauty. But really, finding beauty in some of these dry places just takes being more alert. Last spring when I drove west near The Craters of the Moon Park, I was moving along a two lane road that did not have much of anything to write home about. And then, the extinct volcanos that had exploded 3000 years ago began to appear. First an isolated one and gradually there were more. They were ghost-like as they sat on the arid plain, hinting of a very vigorous past. And then there was the river that disappeared into a hole, reappearing maybe 150 miles south. I was meeting friends for a covid safe picnic at a picnic table adjacent to a rest stop. The wind was howling about 40 miles per hour as we sat down and pulled out our lunches. Mine was almost swept away before I grabbed it, and we had to shout over the howling wind. It was so weird that I loved it! Beauty? Well perhaps in our expression of the day!
For some strange reason people who live out here want their lawns to look like some midwestern town. There is plenty of water in the ground ( the water rate is a flat fee with no meters) so most people have irrigation systems that turn their lawns into lush green expanses. Back in the mid 1860s when people began to come into the territory, Eagle Rock (as it was called then) was mostly notable because there was a bridge over the Snake River, which winds its way over Idaho and finally meets the Columbia Rive near the border with Oregon on its way to the Pacific. Once the railroads moved south to Pocatello, the town was in grave danger until farmers decided to tap into the abundant water and make the desert an agricultural resource. They didn’t care much for the name of Eagle Rock, and they changed it to Idaho Falls because of various rapids. along this stretch. Then they began to dig out canals to get the water to the fields. Potatoes, barley and wheat became the staple crops and remain so today. One of the canals is near my house. Wibby and I make our four mile walk there each day, sometimes watching the sun come up over the distant hills, filling the sky with radiant colors. And the Friday extra section in the paper is called Farm and Ranch!
The sky! It is astonishing most all day long. There are few big trees to block the view and seeing the stars and planets draped across the black night is a wondrous spectacle. When the comet came through this summer a few of us went outside the city to a high place and were spellbound as we watched the sky. There was little conversation and lots of awe.
Wildlife? There is not so much around town, but an occasional mountain lion or moose turns up. There are hardly any snakes other than an occasional garter snake. And mosquitos? No problem because they rarely appear. There are plenty of birds, especially hawks and eagles and magpies? Have you ever heard a magpie squawk? Lots of noise but no melody!
Rain? Not so much. We had a few days of rain in early July. And maybe we have had 200–300 drops since then. Still, those irrigated lawns bring flowers and startling beauty. There are also lots of dead trees as people persist in trying to get things to grow that really do not like it here. As you ride aroud town there are plenty of farms that spring up, maybe right behind the grocery or near the doctors office. I like watching the crops grow and get harvested. And, there is always the view — not so much of green mountains but a distant view.
Things to do. Of course there is access to all kinds of outdoor adventure. Just lately I have realized my age is no excuse and if I want to make friends I better learn how to ski and snowshoe and kayak. I went kayaking with friends last evening. What can I say? I spent more time in cold water pulling my craft back to shore than actually rowing. I’ve had a struggle with balance since I got here. Sometimes I am walking along heading west and suddenly I realize I have left the path and am now going south! I can force myself back to where I want to go, but it seems like a mysterious force takes over. I fall often too. The first time was last September just after I got here. Wibby and I were out at dawn moseying along the sidewalk with the click click sound of irrigation sprinklers soothing us into the morning. All of a sudden I was doing a dance and trying to regain my posture. No use, Ka BAM! Down on the concrete. The villain was Ice! Who would have expected a freeze this early! Later I fell six more times before I learned to walk like a penguin, not always a sure bet but mostly stable.
But back to my kayak adventure. One of my best friends has been blind since birth. He is an astonishing person who walks all over town. Last weekend he wanted to go on a bike ride with me! And he skis and snowshoes and kayaks. He and his wife invited me to Gem Lake for a lesson in paddling. But, I kept losing my balance and falling into the river. Of course the danger was hypothermia so I needed to get out of the water quickly. It took maybe an hour to pull myself dripping up on the boat ramp. We were all disappointed but I chalked it up to the demand for balance in a kayak. Maaybe an old man should be keeping his feet on the ground? Maybe. Stay tuned.
So much to learn and experience. The bottom line is that we are never too old to thrust ourselves into magical places that challenge our understanding of the way things are. There have been many many of these, and I am grateful for each, even for falling into the cold Snake River.
My recap is not over yet. I have more to say, maybe tomorrow! But first, I am so grateful for your interest in my life out here. Many of you have sustained me with your comments and encouragement and this unusual companionship I have found with you way out here in the west. There have been far too many lonely days when your presence has reminded me that I do matter, maybe not here yet, but in places across the planet. Thanks for that!
