2005-10-10

Next up: Craters of the Moon National Monument and Preserve. This is a huge mass of lava rock. If God were to have a cookout and then dump the left-over charcoal in the middle of Idaho, it would look something like this. There are also lava tubes (tunnels left over under the lava after the hot lava flowed on) that you can climb down into. I didn't go too far into any of these tunnels because you had to crawl and my little head lamp wasn't very comforting after a dozen yards. Those tunnels get black right now when the lights go out.

I then continued West on 20 and then picked up I84 West. I normally avoid the interstate, but that part of Idaho was really boring and I had to go through a bunch of big cities.

At Ontario, Oregon, I got off the interstate to take 26 West. The first thing I noticed was a lack of gas stations. I saw all of four stations while driving through town. Normally I'd see like twelve in a town that size. I held off getting gas until I reached Vale. This town had only a single station. Huh? So I got out to pump the gas only to have an attendant ask me if I needed assistance. "You're in Oregon now." Apparently in Oregon you cannot pump your own gas. The upshot of this seems to be slightly higher gas prices and about a quarter the number of gas stations as anyplace I have yet been. This annoyed me greatly.

The first hundred miles or so of Oregon resembled Idaho. The only thing that kept it interesting was a really bad driver from South Carolina who came up behind me, but was afraid to pass even though I slowed down and gave him room. Then he seemed upset because I was still in front of him until we hit some winding roads, at which point he fell way behind. I always say, if you can't drive fast on curves then you shouldn't drive fast at all. During these curves I passed a logging truck, which I think hurt SC's pride because as soon as we hit a straight-away, he caught up and passed me, only to have me following him up the rest of the mountain because he was slow--although at this point he was trying to drive fast, to save face I think. Eventually we broke past the mountain and I lost him because I was never really speeding, anyway.

Leaving Wollowa Whitman National Forest, I began seeing the Oregon that the original settlers must have come for: farmland nestled into valleys between small, rolling mountains. It's epic, yet tranquil. The geography and geology took on numerous forms as the road and rivers wound around the various bends. Someday I'd like to return here in late spring to see the area when colors are at their peak.

From 26, I followed 19 North into Fossil, then 216 West to where I AM now. For the first time in over a week, I'm getting ready for bed in weather that's not cold and windy.