IDAHOped This Wasn't Our Last Water Footbeers Game

During the same day we viewed the largest Mormon Temple in the world, we drove to Boise. We left Salt Lake City at 1pm and had a nearly five hour drive ahead of us. We wanted to get some "water footbeer" in at a campground. We contemplated camping on the Snake River (only 3 hours away), but figured we had enough daylight left if we pushed it the full 5 hours to Boise. We blasted several of our never-ending collection of classic rock CDs and drove with the AC blasting. 

The Atlas had given us a route to Lucky Peak Lake. Sounded perfect. Luck has always been a friend of Peter and the Wolf so we knew we'd fit right in. Unfortunately, luck eluded us early on...

Clear skies and hot weather as we enter Idaho. Let's get to a body of water.

Found one. The Boise River is dammed by Lucky Peak Dam to create Lucky Peak Lake. Every dammed lake we had been to on this road trip (Sumner Lake, Benton Lake, Lake Powell, etc.) had treated us well. We needed to find a campsite to get the water footbeer going. We drove to Lucky Peak Recreational Area. The overwhelming memory of this location were the unrelenting "ABSOLUTELY NO CAMPING" signs. And then Peter and the Wolf's first argument ensued. We had been asked by our friends Victor and Greg at Lone Rock how often we argue. We shrugged and said "never." They were baffled by our response and couldn't fathom how two people in the heat, confined space, and with no time alone could refrain from arguing. That was just us. Two easy going guys that wouldn't rather spend a road trip with anyone else. We knew we were sharing the trip of a lifetime and there was no point in wasting time arguing. Except this time. 

The fundamental difference between our points of view was this: Peter wanted to get to water footbeer as soon as possible. "Lets just go to the boat launch and play." I wanted to get to a campsite and reserve a spot before playing. We drove to the boat launch but it wasn't an ideal spot. Peter did not back down and still wanted to swim there but I was holding the steering wheel and maintaining an unyielding stubbornness, continually ensuring Peter we would find a great campsite on the water. With my fingers crossed and an uneasy air in the car, we set out to find a campsite.

We entered Boise National Forest in hopes this would be a winner. With no cell phone reception, we just had to get lucky. 

We got lucky. We stumbled upon Macks Creek Campground positioned on the banks of Lucky Peak Lake and stayed free of charge. Found a perfect spot in the shade, set up the tent, changed into our trunks, and hit the lake.

The water was cold but it didn't matter. We knew this may be the last time we could play our beloved water footbeer on the trip.

We got in a few games before the sun set over the surrounding mountains. Dinner time called for our last pot of chili, and our last can of peas. On this night, it came with a perfectly seasoned, succulent pork chop from the neighboring tent. The family of seven was incredibly kind and generous. Our experiences with warm-hearted folks at Macks Creek was just beginning. 

In great spirits, we decided to check out other campsites in search of good conversations. We stumbled across the father-son war veteran tag team of Russ and his dad Len. Russ (left) told a great story of his culinary experiences during his time in the Army. "We would always go to the same place. It was a little food stand on the side of the road run by one guy. He sold the best meat skewers. After three weeks of going and ordering the same thing, it was taken off the menu. When we asked why, the owner replied, 'no more alley cats.'"

Len had some great war stories of his own. He was a pilot in Vietnam but during this particular flight, he sat co-pilot. "We were flying over the Caribbean Sea when an engine burnt out. There was no choice but to make an emergency landing. We figured we would have to crash in the sea but we made a u-turn and safely landed on shore. Our best pilots had 12000 hours in the air. He only had 3000, but was the best damn pilot I knew. Best three days I spent in the service was on that island." Len would constantly reiterate the fact that the US was outnumbered 5:1 in the Vietnam War but never lost a significant battle. These stories just scratch the surface of what we heard that night. 

And then there was Tim. Similar to our friend Chase back in Omaha, Tim was one of those unique characters you will never come across again in your life and feel so fortunate to spend time with. He applied to be the campsite's resident manager and has held the title for over one year. He lives onsite with his chihuahua, and a myriad of campers that simply come and go. For Tim, he lives for the peaceful lifestyle and the connections he develops with campers and we were fortunate enough to be two of those campers on this evening. 

The night began with Wolf taking over for Len as he tried to take the cribbage title from Tim. Tim was tough to beat that night. It was his night. Then, we heard a noise from the bushes that startled us. 

Peter: "Whoa, what is that ruffling in the bushes?" 

Tim: "Oh, that's just Pepe." 

Peter: "Who?"

Tim: "The skunk that lives here. I named him after Pepe-le-pew."

As the night rolled on, we developed a special bond. Russ and Len told stories that we had never heard before, told in a way that keeps you increasingly engaged. They told us stories of their time serving our country under ten different presidents. They would often correct each other on minor details throughout their stories, as if they had shared them together hundreds of times. They had. They were best friends. We told stories the same way. We shared our life stories but focused mainly on our current journey. We shared stories that made us nostalgic. A rare feeling when the experiences only recently happened. That was our trip though. An experience that happens once in a lifetime, but develops a relationship that lasts a lifetime. And Tim sat, sipping his whiskey, contributing seldomly, and soaking in the infectious love constantly. There was something so simple about his mannerisms, his body language, that conveyed a sense of belonging. He added more to the group that he may never know. At one point, Peter and Tim had a bit of a debate regarding gun control and, despite their differences, they grew closer from it. He was one of the most genuine people we had ever met. He told us, in a somber tone, that he appreciated us spending time with him. What he failed to realize was that he made that night one our best experiences on the trip. A night that we will always remember. A night where we grew as people.

Russ and Len called it a night, but Tim was eager to take the party back to his trailer. Peter grabbed his guitar and we entered Tim's home. As Peter effortlessly played, I attempted to sing. I had about as much success as I did during the cribbage game. So Peter just played as we reflected on our night. We shared more stories and jokes, and decided to retreat back to our tent. As we exited the trailer, Tim waved his dog's paw and said, "goodbye" in a chihuahua's voice. And then he left us with his version of a goodbye that stuck on our minds throughout the night: "Thank you for sharing part of your life with me."

When we got back to our campsite, we built a fire and reflected on our night at Macks Creek. We took notes on our phone from the night so we wouldn't forget stories and quotes from the latest characters on our journey. The notes on Peter's phone unfortunately deleted unexpectedly. Paper and pen is mightier that the smartphone.

"The Loner" - Neil Young

In-N-Out of Utah

There were only a few times on the trip when we looked over at each other and knew we needed a shower. The stench of our unwashed Hawaiian t-shirts was strongly outmatched by our re-worn socks. Going from a desert campsite with no running water to a hike in 90 degree weather to another desert campsite with no shower facilities does not bode well for a long car ride. But, it did give us a common goal: get to a motel with a shower and washer/dryer.

With our Zion hike taking us into the late afternoon, we picked a town on the map about three hours north called Nephi, where we could spend the night. Our next "destination" was Boise, Idaho, so we took Highway 89, which paralleled I-15 and came across the slices of Americana had grown accustomed to.

We were not hungry at this time but this would have been our spot, Mom's Cafe in Salina, Utah. Shout-out to the moms. 

Centerfield, Utah en route to our resting spot of Nephi, Utah. Back-to-back shout-outs - this one to our man Fogerty.

Boxcar Wolfie.

Highway 89.

J.C. Mickelson's: Nephi. 

At this point the crustiness was catching up with us. It could have been the explanation for why the server sat us in an empty room away from the other customers. Peter enjoyed his bleu cheese salad almost as much as the flies. 

The Yelp rating of 2.5/5 stars was questionable. We figured the trains gave them the 2 star boost above their deserving rating... While our server texted, we admired the them go round and round.

Wolf thought about pursuing a career in photography after this trip.

When you're in a town with absolutely nothing to do, you buy some beer and hit the motel room to catch up on sports and blog work.

1950's milk man.

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Well-rested with clean clothes and a fresh scent, we left Nephi for Provo and Salt Lake City. We figured this may be the last time we would be in Central Utah, so we wanted to check out BYU in Provo and The Salt Lake Temple. We decided not to stop at the BYU campus in Provo, but we did make a quick stop at Chase Bank for Peter. After a couple great conversations with employees inside about where we were from and our religious affiliations, we drove to Salt Lake City. 

Provo City Library. Quite impressive.

We passed under Eagle Gate which was erected in 1859 to commemorate the entrance to Brigham Young's property. We made it to Salt Lake City - the capital city of Utah and the Mormon religion.

The Salt Lake Temple. Couples lined the outside of the temple eager to get married. By our quick count, there were at least 25. 

Inside the Salt Lake Temple. The lady in white called this the largest organ west of the Mississippi.

Stunning skyscraper in the background of Assembly Hall. 

Best Mormon statues we'd seen since Bluff.

We went to In-N-Out to help digest the Mormon Temple.

So good.

On our way out of Salt Lake City, we listened to University of Utah sports talk radio for as long as we could before getting static. The big news was that they just opened a new athletic facility that would attempt to "compete with Oregon's." Nice try. Onward to Idaho.

Doobie Brothers - "Jesus Is Just Alright"

Jurassic Zion National Park

As we near our final destination, the journey seems similar to the way it started - the open road, new experiences, and endless untouched land. We thought about how far we had come. From the Going to the Sun road being closed due to snow at Glacier National Park to the hot sun beating down in the dry desert. We had arrived at Zion National Park.

After the Grand Canyon, we had determined an arrival date for Portland. We knew we had 6 days to complete our journey. We were torn. Should we go to a library and spend time on the blog or soak in the last week of this epic journey? Clearly we chose the latter and set up camp at Zion. It was a healthy four hour drive from Northern Arizona to Southwest Utah.  

We had no idea what to expect. When we talked to people who had gone, we would get responses like, "It's amazing!" or "It's sooo cool!" Clearly not the most descriptive answers, but enough to peak our curiosity. When we passed through the gate and into the park, we realized the answers were spot on. It was unlike anything we had ever seen. It is the modern day Jurassic Park. 

A beautiful day for an adventure.

As we began to drive through the park, the rock hills looked fake. They looked like they were made out of plastic almost as if Walt Disney had created this national park. 

It could have been Mars.

After waiting five minutes for a selfish RV to consume both lanes as it passed though this narrow tunnel in the opposite direction, we went through. 

We crossed our fingers in hope of an empty campsite and headed toward the park's campground.

Similar to the Grand Canyon and Yellowstone camping experiences, every spot was pre-booked for months. Also similar to every one of our camping experiences, we always found a way. There were no individual spots available, but one group campsite was recently cancelled. The site would end up being our tent (first to arrive and first to set up - we took the only shaded spot) and 8 other tents. 

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Given the fivehour drive from the Grand Canyon, and our notoriously slow starts to most days, the sun was beginning to set just after we set up our tent. 

We walked around the surrounding areas of the campsite before bringing out the cooler.

Stumbled across a case of the Deershits.

This bambi became our spiritual guide and she led us around the park. Her mother appeared (Deershits) and together they became comfortable with us.

Precursor to our night.

Peter pointing out the largest lizard we had seen on the trip. Try to find it in under five seconds.

Maybe not as unique as the lizard with the blue tail we saw in Bluff, but it trumped it in size. This lizard was easily two feet long.

Just inside the west entrance of the park (we entered from the east entrance) was a small shopping complex. They had a decent bar, a small store, a couple of cafes and a giant movie theater. We did not understand who would want to see "The Wolverine" while at Zion but someone thought a movie theater was necessary. Anyway, we stopped at the bar for a beer (had a decent IPA which had been rare in these parts) and the store for a bag of ice. When we asked where the ice was, the clerk pointed to the chest outside the store. Peter was about to open the door when he was greeted by an unexpected guest...

Yep, a tarantula. From camping with scorpions in Bluff to camping with tarantulas at Zion National Park. You just have to laugh.

We got back to the tent safely, filled up the cooler and a couple of glasses, and reminisced all night about the trip over a few drinks. It was a great night. We woke up the next morning eager for a desert hike. Here's Wolf's LinkedIn profile pic.

After driving on the park's lone road looking for trails, we finally stumbled across a short one that would take us a little over a mile to the Canyon Overlook. The designated parking lot provided spaces for about twelve cars. It was full but a car was pulling out. We were about to pull in when we heard some Germans screech out of their car window, "Ve vere vaiting!" We let them have the spot, had a laugh, and headed up the road to design our own hike.

It started flat and grassy. Nice.

And then our intuition told us to turn around. 

Only saw this plant once on our hike. Maybe it's rare.

With clear barriers to a long hike, we headed back to designated trail to the Canyon Overlook.

A nice Wednesday hike.

Wolf was disappointed he couldn't use this as a walking stick.

The Atlas had treated us well on this trip. Here's Peter's tribute to Atlas.

We made it to the end. This is what it looked like. 

Just joking. This is the actual view.

Wolf missing out on the great view.

From where Wolf sat, we listened to this group of Chinese tourists sing a traditional song. Then they were all silent with their heads bent down as the elder male continued to sing. When they finished, we approached them to ask for a photo. Making the hand gesture of a picture being taken, we asked them. With a thick Chinese accent, they said, "Of course," and continued to tell us they were on a road trip from Las Vegas, which had been their home for 28 years. (We also asked them about the song, but unfortunately we don't remember their response)

Great photo taken by our new friends. Peter and the Wolf: Zion National Park

We soaked in the view one last time before hitting the road.

Onward to Provo and Salt Lake City.

John Williams - "Jurassic Park Theme Song"