~ mini-vacation Salmon, Idaho ~
I have found that when one has the opportunity to embark upon a spontaneous mini-vacation, that it is generally in one's best interest (of having a splendid time) to take advantage of that opportunity. Last week, Josh and I had such an opportunity - - he had the rare, so to speak, chance to take a three day "weekend" (being that his normal weekend is Friday and Saturday, it became a three-day with the additional day off of Thursday). It turned out to be a perfect week for me to cut my hours short by two days, despite the short notice of taking Thursday and Friday off on Monday. We then had two days to come to an agreement about how to spend our mini-vacation. Now, I don't know about all you other couples out there, but occasionally Josh and I find ourselves engaged in heated negotiations to agree on something. With regards to the mini-vacation debate, we each had our hearts set on a certain place, only for the other person to articulate a number of reasons in disfavor of that location. Eventually, the night before we were planning to set off on our adventure, we found agreement on the location of Salmon, Idaho.
According to Mapquest, the drive from Boise to Salmon is estimated at 5 hours and 11 minutes. Josh and I had established approximately 3 hours as the maximum time allowance for driving, so it's surprising that we decided to travel somewhere with almost twice the travel time. To compensate, we decided to stop at about the halfway point for a big bike ride. We stopped several miles before Stanley and completed a 20 mile loop around the Knapp Creek area of the Sawtooths.
The Knapp Creek Loop was pretty fun. When we arrived at the trailhead, there was a big bright yellow sign indicating that the area was "BEAR COUNTRY" and advised trail users to make noise so as not to startle any bears. Now, I have read enough reports about people in Idaho being mauled by bears to take a sign like that seriously. Which is why, for the majority of the ride, Josh and I were singing and humming nonsensical tunes for to not startle bears. For me, however, it was a nice change to fear being mauled by a bear than to be afraid of some aspect of the bike ride. Indeed, there was nothing about the ride that could have frightened a 'fraidy pants like me. It was labelled as a beginner/intermediate ride, the only reason for the intermediateness about it being a wee little bit on the technical side and the length (20 miles being nothing to shake a stick at). Personally, I was loving the wee little bit of technical action on the trail - - one does not see much technical spots on the Boise foothills - - and it was a nice challenge that made the ride more interesting. Another interesting factor about the ride were the number of creek crossings we faced. There was quite a bit of water running down those mountains, sieved nicely into streams and creeks. The first major creek crossing I peddled my way through no problem, despite my feet and ankles dipping fully into the water. The other major crossing was more of a river which was far too deep for peddling. Wow, ice water from the mountains can sure make one's feet lose all circulation quickly!
The last few miles of the ride got a bit old for me - - we left Boise at 9:00 in the morning, started our bike ride at 1:00 in the afternoon, and that was a long time for me to go without a full meal. At mile 17 of the bike ride (which was around 2:45), I was officially about to faint from starvation. We had all kinds of energy bars and calorie drinks, but I needed FOOD. After returning to the car, we quickly made our way to Stanley where we had a big meal. The last leg of the drive was a bit more tedious and uncomfortable, as our butts were in the process of withering up and dying from sitting in the car for so long.
But we made it! The night before, we made reservations to stay at the Greyhouse Bed and Breakfast (see above photo), which is 12 miles outside of town along the Salmon River. We stayed in one of the cabins for a very reasonable rate. Our cabin was nice and odd. It was a good solid cabin with a comfy bed...and it was decorated with a simply ridiculous amount of fish motifs. There were stuffed fish everywhere, several on the bed as pillows, some on the chairs as cushions, and even some sticking here and there for mere decoration. The walls had a wide assortment of fish in various format, everything was fish, fish, fish. Whatever, the bed was comfy and there was plenty of hot water.
After settling into our fishy cabin and taking showers, Josh and I decided to drive on over to Salmon for some groceries. It was about 8:00 by the time that we hit the road again. We took a quick tour of the town, which is super cute, and stopped by a grocery store for some food items, and beer. We then sat on our porch at the cabin, snacking and drinking our beers. It was very nice.
The next day, we rose at 8:00 and had breakfast with our fellow bed and breakfasters. We also procured a map of the area and began to ponder our adventures for the day. After breakfast, we went back to the town for some real exploring. We walked up and down Main Street, visited the Lemhi County Historical Museum (where Josh and I were both conned into picking up solidified hair balls from cows' stomachs - - those Salmonites have questionable senses of humor). Josh took the opportunity to question several individuals about possible mountain biking trails. There were several options and, ultimately, we decided to ride Twelve Mile Creek for the reason that we would not have to drive to get there (it began a block down from the Greyhouse Bed and Breakfast).
Twelve Mile Creek is a forest service road that travels up and up into whatever wilderness area. I think that we were forewarned that it is a rocky road, but it's difficult to know how much weight to give various warnings. You know, Josh and I have been warned about mountain biking on this or that trail by all sorts of non-mountain bikers, only to discover that there was no need for any kind of a warning. This Twelve Mile Creek forest service road was just like the warnings we heard... ROCKY - - and I don't mean there were some rocks on it, I mean that the entire road for miles and miles is nothing but big loose rocks, such that it was quite a challenge to ride. And it was HOT. The grade did not seem like much, but after looping around the first switchback, I glanced down into the bottomless void from which I had ridden, and realized we were climbing much more than it seemed. We stopped at several of the streams coming down the mountain and stuck our heads in the icy water to cool down - - did I mention that it was HOT?! We made it about 9 miles up before we gave up - - we were hoping to arrive at some scenic meadow area, but with each switchback going higher and higher, our hopes diminshed. And the rocks were making for something of an unpleasant climb. It was not the nice technicals of the ride the previous day, it was frustrating rockiness that was just a pain in the bottom. So after 9 miles of butt pains, we turned around. I had been a little wary about the prospect of the downhill on such a rocky, deceivingly-steep road with a massive drop off into a deep void off the side of the road (see: fraidy pants). So I started my descent focusing on my proper biking form, not looking at the scary drop off next to me, and trying to not wipe out on the rocks. At some point, I thought about how one could really fuck one's self up by crashing on such a road. Somehow, in spite of all these scary factors, I was having fun! I hit a massive rock head on, unintentionally, and it was absorbed into my shocks and my descent continued uninterrupted. As I continued down, carefully engaging my breaks at the proper times (not in corners, not as I hit big rocks, not as I rolled through loose sections of rocks) and let my wheels carry me through the sketchy sections, it became really awesome. Soon, I let go of the breaks all together and only used them to keep my speed from getting out of control. According to my computer, I was going 15...18...20...22...25...27 miles an hour down a steepish rocky road, faster than a car would have gone, with my shocks absorbing all of the rocks so that my ride was cushy and comfy. For a good while, I was even seated, with the rear suspension making for a smooth ride. After a while, I started riding over the bigger and looser rocks, just for practicing. At the bottom, the straightaway before the highway, I was going almost 35 mph, which is pretty fast for me. It was a great ride!
That evening, we went back into town for some dinner at a place called the Shady Nook. I enjoyed some blackened salmon and sweet potato fries and Josh had some kind of alfredo pasta thing and french onion soup. We then wandered around down by the river where Josh impressed me with his ability to skip rocks. I hypothesize that the skipping of rocks is some base animal instinct that dudes have retained over the ages in order to attract a mate. The rock skipping ritual lasted quite some time, it was as though Josh was showing of his vibrant plummage.
The next day, Saturday, was the end of our mini-vacation. We had breakfast at the Greyhouse and loaded into the car for the drive back. We opted to go the LONG way so that we could see Craters of the Moon. We biked a 7 mile loop around the area, and saw lots of volcanic stuff. I'd never been there before, so it was nice to have that opportunity.
Also during the drive back, we opted to stop in several of the small towns along the way for a quick walk around. In Mackay, pop. 500, we found a number of yard sales to peruse and managed to skedaddle out just in time to miss the town parade. I don't parades. We had lunch in another little town, Carey, I believe. Also, I had quite the giggle as we passed through Arco, the first community in the world to be lit by nuclear power!
The great misadventure of the trip was while we were driving along this remote highway after leaving Mackay, at 65 mph, and all of a sudden Josh (who was driving) looked in the rearview mirror and screamed "Your bike is gone!" I practically had a heart attack as I looked back at the trunk rack to see no Minty Fresh (what I named by brand new expensive bike). Immediately, we turn around, thinking that the bike must have flown off the rack (because it was on the rack when we left Mackay). The amazing irony being that this was a brand new fancy pants rack that Josh arranged for us to use specifically for this trip. For years, I've used this trunk rack that my dad found at some thrift store for $5, and it has served me well (no bikes flying off). This rack that I've had, however, has just seemed like an accident waiting to happen. The manner in which it fastens to the car is questionable, and Josh and I are always going to great pains to secure the bikes to the rack. So for this big trip, Josh wanted to have the piece of mind of using a high quality brand new bike shop recommended rack. It attaches to my car so much better, and it has wonderful pads and straps for the bikes, to hold them securely. So it was quite the shock to look back and see that my bike was no longer on the rack! As we were driving back from whence we had came, I was scanning the sides of the road, expecting to see my brand new (expensive) bike, having been crushed and run over by the traffic, all bent up, broken, and sad. Boy, was my heart rate up. We did not drive for very long when we began to wonder if perhaps the bike was somehow dragging along behind us. Josh pulled over and I ran to the back, where I discoverd my bicycle dangling by the cheap cable lock that we had used to lock the bikes to the rack while in the thief-ridden town of Mackay. Somehow, the straps securing the bike to the rack came undone and the bike flew off the rack, but the lock held. I cannot find the words to describe my relief that my bike was not only NOT bent, broken, and sad along the side of the road, but that it appeared to be undamaged. I was so glad that we had randomly decided to put the crappy cable lock on the bikes, which would have done nothing if a thief had really wanted to steal our bikes, but which managed to hold the bike up enough so that it wasn't even dragging along the road as we sped along at 65 mph. There is not even single a scratch on sweet Minty Fresh!
Whew!
Anyhoo, here's a link to my flickr set on this mini-adventure.