With the longest of the three days ahead of us, we get an early start. We’re up at 6:30 for the exciting breakfast our motel offers us (coffee and a Jimmy Dean breakfast sandwich!), and are on the road not long afterwards.
The Raven, showing what two months in the desert will do to your shiny black coat, fluffs his wings and is ready to fly. He’s anxious to get to his new home and take a bath.
Other than for stops, today’s 400 miler is entirely on the freeway, posted at 80 mph the whole way until we reach the Oregon border and it drops to 75. For the most part southern Idaho isn’t the most compelling sight so we’re pretty content to just put our miles in as fast as possible, grateful that we have a newer, more comfortable car with a decent sound system.
Our only ‘road photo’ from the day, at a rest stop near Snowville and the Utah/Idaho border.
The highlight of the day is a prolonged stop near Twin Falls to hike part of their Canyon Rim Trail, an impressive cycling/walking trail that follows the south rim of the Snake River canyon for about ten miles. We parked at Shoshone Falls Park and walked west from there, each at our own preferred pace - Rachael sped her way through eight miles while I did a bit less, making time to commune with the rock chucks and bunnies.
Here’s the explanation: it’s artificial, built as the launching spot for Evel Kneivel’s unsuccessful attempt in 1974 to leap the canyon with his rocket powered motorcycle.
Sure, let’s jump over that! Do you remember Evel and this jump? I do - as did a local woman we chatted with on the trail. She was among the thousands of spectators who watched the event, disappointed when it was thwarted by a parachute malfunction.
Another look down into the canyon. This country reminds me of the scablands of eastern Washington, not surprisingly since they were both sculpted by cataclysmic prehistoric floods.
The Petrine Memorial Bridge carries US 93 across the river. It has an attractive, minimalist design that reminds you of the Navajo Bridge. With a deck height nearly 500 feet above the river, it’s the eighth highest bridge in the country - just higher than the Navajo, which is the ninth.
Scott AndersonTo Bruce LellmanNope. The jump was in 1974, and the bridge opened in 1976. My assumption is that they built the bridge after seeing that rocket powered motorcycles were a no go. Reply to this comment 3 years ago
Scott AndersonTo Jacquie GaudetI thought so too. We drove over it after the hike, and I regret not pulling off for a last look. Reply to this comment 3 years ago
Scott AndersonTo Bill ShaneyfeltThat’s what I thought too, but it was fairly small. I didn’t know if other birds build ones like this also. Reply to this comment 3 years ago
Scott AndersonTo Patrick O'HaraHey, that looks promising! The scale seems right - it really seems too small for an oriole, which of course you can’t really tell from the photo. I’m glad I asked. I never would have guessed these tiny birds would build a nest like that. Reply to this comment 3 years ago
So that’s it for the day’s excitement. With still 250 miles to go, we just drove. Well, we did stop once, for dinner - Rachael found for us a surprisingly good Italian meal at Italianesque, in Nampa of all places.
Last food photos of the tour! Radiatori with grilled chicken and veggies.
We crossed the border to Oregon at about six and lost an hour as we changed time zones, surprised to realize that we’d be arriving at about sundown and puzzled by why after all these years we still get confused by time zone transitions. We keep thinking of ourselves as reasonably intelligent folks, but the evidence suggests otherwise.
