Farewell to Idaho

I'm in Idaho Falls, about to get back on the road after arriving here early yesterday evening. I set out from Boise last Monday morning, but not before visiting what is surely the town's most famous landmark, the infamous Larry Craig bathroom at the airport (sadly, I think it is generally frowned upon to take pictures in public restrooms). Given the barren nature of Idaho's terrain, there were literally zero surface roads headed eastward out of town, so I got the pleasure of doing a blazing 35 miles (blazing both in speed and heat) down the interstate before getting to Mountain Home where Highway 20/26 headed up into the mountains, away from all things even remotely resembling civilization. I followed the highway through Craters of the Moon National Park, an ancient lava flow that seeped from the ground and created all sorts of bizarre shapes and tubes and caves and whatnot, and that somehow people travelling the Oregon Trail managed to get through (I still don't understand that). After that was Arco, the "free world's" first city to be powered by atomic energy. How's that for a claim to fame? It'll have to do, because there ain't much more to be said about it.

An abandoned barn that afforded a dry place to sleep

About two miles out of Arco, my rear tire promptly blew out on me, the culmination of days of struggling with leaks and flats. I had known for a while that my tire wouldn't last too long, so I had ordered a spare, which was waiting for me in Idaho Falls, an unfortunate 66 miles down the road. Fortunately, I was able to catch a ride with a passing caravan of jalopies filled to the brim with salvage and scrap headed for Blackfoot. The woman I rode with, Helen, told me about travelling the country for four years on bicycle with her husband, until she had too many kids to continue, so they traded in their bikes for a covered wagon, pulled by her eight daughters and two boys. They only took me as far as a highway junction (Blackfoot is not quite in the same direction as Idaho Falls), but the very first car that passed me picked me right up and took me the rest of the way, to the very door of the bike shop I needed. I decided that, with all the weight I'm carrying, I'd switch to a slightly wider tire in the back, and that way I still get to keep my spare if anything else goes wrong.

Idaho Falls is a cute little town. I found a nice wine and beer shop, and had a couple of drinks while listening to a local jazz duo running through the classics. I slept in the park downtown, overlooking the falls, and had an amazingly restful night of sleep until (of course) the sprinklers turned on in the middle of the night. I visited a music shop this morning, where the owner, Dave, took me on a tour of his collection of odd instruments, including an incredible combination valve/slide bass trombone that he built himself.

Coolest trombone ever, with coolest trombone-making guy ever

As soon as I got up into the mountains past Mountain Home, the weather pattern changed dramatically. It's hot in the morning and day, til afternoon, when the thunder and rainclouds start rolling in, often with lots of wind. I've gotten rained on a couple of times, and have had to pitch my tarp the last couple of nights, but I'll take a high of 73 and some raindrops over the record-setting heat in Seattle any day.

Everybody I've talked to has taken great pleasure in telling me how much of a doozy the Teton Pass is that I'm about to go over. I look forward to telling you myself soon!