Category Archives: Travel

The long way home

 

Coming back from Boise was the trip going in reverse except that the views and sightlines are all 180° off so that it is really never the same trip. I might not be the best authority on this, however, as Michele and I have driven across Nevada – probably – more than 20 times and, to me, it never seems the same. And all the trips are great, but maybe, it is an acquired taste. One trip, I remember, it was snowing – but right on the edge of the freezing line – for the whole trip which meant that every mountain pass had wet snow and every valley was misty rain (except for worrying about what the weather would be like in Utah – our destination – the trip, ensconced in our heated car, was magic).

The Owyhee Mountains seemed much more mountain like this time around and, what seemed like richer farms and ranches coming in, now seemed poor.

After the oasis of Boise with its soft green-ness, even the green floodlands of the Owyhee River seemed lost in the endless, late summer, Dry.

As we drive through the high desert, watching it float by us as if on TV, we chat and joke, we listen to Eileen’s iPhone music collection, we sense, more than hear the ever present car noise. But, when we stop, when we get out of the car, it is a deep quiet.   In Scenes in America Deserta, Reyner Banham talks about the silence of Drylands, Silence  heat and light. The silence flowed back around us, like a filling pool, as I switched off the engine of the car….In Basin and Range, John McPhee quotes Freeman Dyson It is a soul-shattering silence. You hold your breath and hear absolutely nothing….You are alone with God in that silence. We weren’t alone, and our chatter followed us out of the car when we stopped; but the background silence was always there. One one stop, Eileen and I took pictures of each other, and I think Eileen’s better captures the silence and immensity of the space.

At one point, as we drive along, I watch a truck – on a parallel road but in a life sharply divergent from ours – throw-up a dust trail. It starts me  thinking about how hard it would be to sneak up on somebody out here. We left Boise after lunch and now the sun is getting low as we get close to Winnemucca and the Interstate. The mountains are soft in the fading light and we start thinking about where we will have dinner in Reno (a Thai restaurant south of the airport won) .

To be continued….

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

was

While we were in Boise

 

Boise is a shock of green after hours of driving through miles of sun-bleached-beige drylands. Especially at Ophelia and Peter’s home which is near the Boise River (not the Snake River as some, sometimes, tend to mis-identify it.

 

In the green and the softness of Boise’s early fall afternoons, it is also a little shocking to a coastal Californian that – shocking in the morning when we go outside, that is – that it had frozen the night before.  But, by mid afternoon when we went over to see Peter and Ophelia’s grandkids and grand chickens, it was short sleeve shirt weather.

While we were Boise, in the outside world, the tide turned against Lance Armstrong, one of the Pussy Rioters was released from prison, and, contrary to my prediction, Obama was hit hard in the poles over the debate. Each thing was sort of shocking to me and each was, really, already there.

In a way, in the back of my mind where I am not paying much attention, I have known for a while that Armstrong was doing something. Winning seven times is a lot and the were growing rumors that he was doping, or juicing, or whatever is the proper term. But the magnitude of the whole thing, the amount of evidence, the casualness of it all that is just now coming out, is still shocking.

And what is it with the russian courts? It turns out that Yekaterina Samutsevich wasn’t even in the cathedral for the hooliganization for which she was convicted. So a higher court suspended her sentence. To an American mind, in my mind, it seems that she is either guilty or she should be let go. That she is innocent but we will still call you semi-guilty is bizarre. But, then, I have no idea about how any Russian court should work.

And coming back to the reality of post vacation news – in the post debate polls – to find Obama trailing is very shocking. I think that, with Romney gaining stature by being on stage with the President, that he , Romney, came across less evil than he had been painted by the Obama ads. But, in a way, he has always been personable. That is his schick. Somehow Romney was able to pull off the slight of hand of announcing a goal – reducing the national debt, for example – being the the same as actually having a policy.

Driving to Boise took most of a day and driving home was the same, so our time enjoying the warmth and camaraderie of our little group was very short. Soon it was time to wave goodbye and get back on the road.

Going to Boise

Last weekend, we drove – with Aston and Eileen – to Boise Idaho to see Ophelia  and Peter for Ophelia’s birthday. It is a trip that I have never made but – in the map of my mind’s eye – I thought  that Winnemucca would be about two thirds of the way. I sort of picture Idaho as being over Nevada and Oregon as being over California. In reality, Eastern Oregon is over a big hunk of Nevada and, after going north from Winnemucca deep into Oregon, one is then required to go east to Boise. It turns out that Winnemucca is about the halfway point and the drive, north and then east, takes on the qualities of a Are we there, yet? atmosphere.

I mean Are we there, yet? in the best possible way. This is the kind of country that I love to drive through – just to drive through – even without the reward of Peter and Ophelia at the other end. The drive was a delight for us. It was photo-less interstate driving all the way to Winnemucca where we made a left to head north into Oregon. (Winnemucca is in the Humboldt Basin in the Great Basin meaning that everything drains to the Humboldt Sink rather than some ocean.) Heading north, we slowly climbed out of the Basin running along side Santa Rosa Range.

The land is more Drylands than Desert with dry grass and soft mountains. While we are still in the Basin, the land is spotted with small farms and ranches. Not small in size but small in the amount of money that can be eked out. As we go north, the ranches become even more hardscrapple and the land becomes more dramatic. This is Red Country, independent and poor, not acknowledging that they are grazing their cattle on our – the American people’s – land.

We leave Nevada with the de rigueur casino where we have an early lunch and try our hand at the penny slots (Michele won five cents which she then lost on the nickel machine),

then we drive out of the Basin and through the high Drylands of Easter Oregon where the living is even more scrapple.

Then, down into the Owyhee River Basin – which drains into the Snake River and then into the Pacific Ocean – which seems both richer and more dramatic,

and into Idaho where we got a celebratory cup of coffee – technically a capuccino, in my case – knowing we only had 41 miles to go.

From there it was through the Owyhee Mountains where we can look down into the Snake River Basin and, then, it is an easy hop to Boise where we go for a walk along the actual – flowing to the sea – Snake River.

To be continued…

A nice walk on a spectacular day

After hanging around Michele’s family cabin all morning, soaking up the sunshine and what I always think of as Eastern Sierra air – a distinct dry earth and pine smell; strong, warm, sun, cool air in the shade – we went out for a burger in Truckee.

Aside by Michele: BurgerMe is a wonderful find, with very tasty grass-fed burgers. End aside.

Then, while driving to Lake Tahoe the long way around, we got waylaid at Martis Creek where we took an  afternoon walk.

Eastern Sierra meadows – maybe any high altitude meadows – are among my favorite places to walk. Especially in the late afternoon. With their familiar smells and sounds, they are one of my spiritual homes. Warm, somehow-how-soft feeling, it brings back distant memories of the end of the day after a hard hike or climb. Today, the hard hike was getting a burger in Truckee but the meadow is still glorious.