We got out of Salt Lake City pretty early and were rewarded with views of golden topped corn fields glowing in the morning light when we got out of the urban sprawl and back onto a two lane interstate.
There were corn and wheat pastures for as far as the eye could see and the harvesters had left giant swirling patterns that would probably look like crop circles from the air. Tiny towns lay at the base of mountains that only got the morning sun. Homes lined up along the roadside had long skinny paddocks for backyards with white paling fences. Crop rotation made a patchwork of the roadside with fields of brown dirt, yellow post harvest and green corn shoots. The mountains were dotted with pine trees and fall colours were already starting to show amongst the green. Gold, pink, yellow and orange leaves could be seen in pockets trailing down valleys.
There have been “beware deer” signs all the way from Vegas and I saw a deer for the very first time. It was quite big with a branch of antlers laying with its neck on an awkward angle on the median strip. Not quite the wildlife watching I was intending to do.
As we were passing from Utah into Idaho, a pickup truck whizzed by us on the Interstate with an enormous set of antlers on the roof. The antlers were so big that it hung out past the roof top. Where the antlers had been attached was red. It went by so fast that I couldn’t tell if it was blood, a red rag, or both. I was shocked and horrified but also morbidly curious.
Flocks of small birds like swallows, resting on the side of the road, puffed away like clouds of dust as we drove by. I think they’re those birds that eat ticks and other insects off horses and cattle which would explain why we saw so many of them. It seems like the entire region just grows food for cows and horses.
Idaho Falls exists primarily for agriculture. Pastures go back as far as the eye can see and for once there are no mountains in the background. Rolling plains of yellow are dotted with hay bales and shiny silver silos, long spidery sprinklers on big white wheels dangle over the pastures. There were rows of harvest lines on the short golden stalks for acres and acres on one side of the road and deep granite canyons on the other side.
Our overnight stopover this time was Granite Creek Station just past Idaho Falls, a small family run station with trail horses and some cows. A long windy track took us up to our cabin that used to be a stable; pine logs packed with cement, wooden timber floor and ceiling, tin roof, Indian blankets on the beds, a claw footed bath and a horseshoe to put the toilet paper roll on. Oh and wireless internet!
After being greeted loudly by Rowdy the red heeler puppy, we unpacked, put on our boots and rode up the mountains on some surefooted but somewhat stubborn and hungry trail horses of “no particular breed”. Our guide, Sabrina who works the family summer home for her parents, led us up through the woods behind our cabin and kept up a constant run of chatter and questions that proved they don’t get many visitors. We ended up at the top of a mountain breaking through the trees to be surprised by an incredible and scary view of a valley dropping sharply away. Excuse my language Sabrina, but “holy shit!”
I thoroughly enjoyed riding, even if Nugget kept trying to forge her own path up the mountain that went from food to food! She probably couldn’t wait to get home and me off! I even enjoyed removing her tack and brushing her down.
For the second time this holiday I got up early enough to see the sun come up. Coming out of a toasty cabin, it was bitingly cold and with good reason. Everything was covered in frost with little white crystals covering grass, tables, car windscreens and tin roofs. Steam was coming off the pond and the three dogs followed me around while I took photos trying to get me to throw sticks for them. Finally the sun breached the hill next to the cabin and the warmth of it on my black jumper was immediate and defrosting, not just for me but for everything else that it touched. Soon water was steadily dripping off the tin roof and everything began drying out.
The cabin didn’t provide breakfast so we stopped off at one of those classic diners you see on TV with tacky decorations, faded booths, great coffee and friendly waitress. She also helped us get a better handle on tipping – I’m pretty sure we’ve been screwing up royally on the tipping front. We tried to leave my son behind but the lovely waitress reminded us he was still in the restroom.
We got to see some more wildlife on the way out of the diner. This time it was skunk road kill…
Yellowstone here we come!
