Better Late Than Never

Yes, Beth, I know.  I've been running behind on my blogging.  I could blame it on the fact that I've been spending lots of time in the wilderness, in reception-free zones.  But alas, that would be a lie.  I've just been too busy having too much fun to sit behind my laptop and crank out another entry in the day-in-the-life-of-a-vagabond journal.  :-)

Where did we last leave off?  Oh, yes.  Chico Hot Springs.  So I left Chico Hot Springs, not entirely sure of where I would go next.  Perhaps Boise?  Perhaps somewhere in between?  It really didn't matter to me, because I was just enjoying the drive.  The first stop was Bozeman, where I had a lazy lunch at the Cateye Café.  Sausage and biscuits, strong coffee, and a slice of banana-bread-French-toast.  The S&B were to die for, but the BBFT really put me over the edge.  I just wanted to curl up on my plate and take a nap afterwards.  Plus, I loved the Cateye's attitude, as encapsulated in its manifesto, "The Way of the Cateye."  If you're ever in Bozeman, check the place out.  And remember, if you have a fork, then you don't need a spoon to stir your coffee. 

After lunch,  I just drove sort of vaguely towards the west, trying to stay off the Interstate as much as possible.  It was often slow going (dodging cattle, tractors, and potholes), but I was treated to some of the most breathtaking scenery I've ever seen.  Photos really don't do it justice, but I can see why they call it "Big Sky Country."

Yup.  That sky is pretty big.

This sky is big, too.

You may recognize this big sky as the new background for Adventures with Grigsby.

While taking back roads has many advantages, there is one disadvantage.  Time.  I meandered through western Montana and eastern Idaho, over U.S. routes, state highways, and dirt roads.  The day got away from me, and as the sun set, I was nowhere near a campground.  I briefly thought about back country camping, but decided against it.  There were too many risks:  errant wild animals, recalcitrant ranchers, and no toilets. 

So I kept driving.  And driving.  I finally passed some campgrounds, but it was after dark, and I didn't want to try to pitch my tent in blackness.  So I kept driving.  Eventually made it to Mountain Home, Idaho, not far outside of Boise, and checked into a Hampton Inn at about 1:00 am.

The next morning, I drove into Boise and checked it out.  Cute town.  I meandered through the Boise State campus and came across the main library, which immediately made me think of the movie The Tall Guy.

Library!  The musical.

I was also lucky enough to stumble across the annual "Goddess Fest" taking place in Boise's riverfront park.

And it gets better.  At the Boise Art Museum, there was a temporary exhibit that focused on shoes.  Talk about perfect timing!   

They wouldn't let me take pictures of any of the shoes.  Sorry, Alba. 

In a nutshell, Boise was way hipper and endearing than I imagined.  I could have hung out for another day or two there, but I had to hit the road.  Next stop:  Baker City, Oregon.

Baker City was a couple of hours past Boise, and I decided to bunk there for the night.  I stayed in a little strip motel that had clearly seen better days, but that was still charming in its own way.

The place was decorated with photos of the cast and crew of Paint Your Wagon.  It turns out that they stayed there when they were shooting on location near Baker City.

I checked out the local brew pub, Barley Brown's, where in addition to sampling some outstanding brews, I also witnessed the local version of a growler being refilled.

Baker City was, once upon a time, a major stop on the Oregon Trail -- the last major stop on the trail before reaching the end at Oregon City (which is now a suburb of Portland).  Not far from Baker City is the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center, and several people had mentioned to me that it was worth a visit.  So I decided to check it out, and indeed, it was well worth the visit.  The exhibits did a great job of communicating just how arduous the trail was for emigrants back in the mid-19th century.

The Center is perched on a hill overlooking the Baker Valley, right on trail itself.  The landscape leading up to this point is pretty bleak -- nothing but dry sagebrush and clumpy dead grass, in alternating shades of pasty gray and sickly brown.  The only real color is to be found in lichens on rocky outcroppings, but even that looks tired.

You can imagine the sense the relief that the pioneers must have felt when they first saw this (sort of) lush valley after spending so much time in the brutal, high deserts of southern Idaho and eastern Oregon.

The little white dot is a replica of a wagon and the path next to it is the old Oregon Trail.

And I had a sense of relief of well.  I knew that that the lush forests and rich landscapes of central and western Oregon were not far away, and that I would soon be seeing my family and friends who inhabit them.