RETIREMENT TRIP #7

Back to Boise and Beyond
                                                                       Derek Walcott, Novel Prize in Literature winner in 1992, wrote, “We read, we travel, we become.”  I had been reading to Andy as we traveled the country. I know reading and traveling expand perspectives for both of us.  I wonder if that is the substance of my need to write.

Ice coated the top of the little black Ford Fiesta this morning when Andy loaded the luggage.  The bank across the street read 36 degrees when we left the motel some time later.  On the Oregon

Irrigation pivots spew water that freezes on contact in the
early morning chill, the first frost of the season.

Outback there isn’t much to hold the heat at night.  This morning the cloudless sky warmed quickly.

“Next gas 120 miles,” said a sign outside of Crane on Route #78.  “That means each rancher must have his own supply,” I said.
“Absolutely,” agreed Andy, “or none of his farm machinery would be operable.”
Just then we passed some pivot irrigation systems with long white lines under them.  I pointed it out to Andy, wondering if the white was some sort of fertilizer in the water.
“No,” he answered, slowing down the car.  “Look, it’s ice!  They had to go way below freezing last night.  It’s ice.  They were in the 20’s here.  The sun’s been out for more than two hours.”  Frost covered the ground under the pivots and icicles hung from the metal rods and wheels.

Few people live in this rugged,
remote part of Oregon.

In Rome, Oregon, close to the Idaho border, the Owyhee River flowed comfortably.  But almost no one lives here.

“This would be a good place to see the Milky Way,” Andy mentioned… again.  He always picked the most inopportune times to look at stars.

Rugged volcanic hills line the border
between Oregon and Idaho

Here, the ranches sprawled for miles across the volcanic land.  “Eat at your own peril,” Andy told the cows as we drove past.

“You got that,” I echoed.  “The more you eat, the sooner you die!”  A cattle truck passed us going the other way.  It was empty.

The tiny old town of Jordan Valley on the Idaho border, preserved one wall of the Jordan Hotel, built in 1880.  It looked odd towering over dilapidated trailers and modest frame homes.  It's just about all that is left from days gone by.  Before the discovery of gold along the banks of Jordan Creek on May 18, 1868, this arid region was the exclusive domain of American Indians, a few hardy explorers and Hudson Bay Company's fur trappers.  The prospect of gold quickly changed this attitude, and eastern Oregon became a destination for hundreds of miners.

One wall of the old hotel towers over homes in
downtown Jordan Creek.

Merchants with heavily-laden pack animals quickly took advantage of the opportunity and so too did ranchers, wood cutters, blacksmiths, stone masons, carpenters, gamblers and a host of others from all walks of life.
 The sudden population increase alarmed local Native Americans, who harassed the newcomers to drive them away.  It brought more. The tragic conflict lasted for five years until the Treaty of 1868.
By the 1870's mining took second place, but the livestock industry to provide food for miners and mules and horses for transportation replaced it.  This all laid the groundwork for Malheur County's industry today--agriculture. The one wall of the old hotel is all that remains to remind visitors of this colorful history.

Views from the overlook show
the rugged terrain of Oregon.

Ten miles north along the border, the road turned east, and then there was Idaho.  Dry grass covered the mountainous slopes as far as we could see.  Steeply rolling, it made good range land, but except for the wire fence, there were no signs of habitation for miles.

Cliffs rise on both sides of the
highway pass.

Basalt boulders rested precariously on the hillsides where they had tumbled.  “Watch for rocks,” warned the appropriate sign.  This was rugged territory.

Deep in this valley, a successful
ranch extends for miles.



Owyhee County just over the border was actually named after an outdated spelling of the word Hawaii.  The pass, a 6% grade downhill for three miles, cut through lava cliffs on both sides of the road.

We stopped at the rest pullout, climbed to a lookout and watched piggy-back hay trucks and cattle-hauling semis climb the steep grade.

The Anne Frank Human Rights Memorial recognizes the
rights of all individuals, regardless of race, color, creed... 

One vehicle near us rested his brakes before the steep descent.  It was a long way downhill.

In downtown Boise the Idaho Anne Frank Human Rights Memorial paid tribute to Holocaust victim Anne Frank, who died at the hands of the Nazis in 1945, just as World War II ended.  Famous quotes carved in sandstone reminded onlookers of the value of humanity and the price of liberty and freedom.  It was impressive, with fountains, ponds and gardens.

A bronze statue of Anne
Frank highlights the
Human Rights Memorial.

Beautiful rose gardens surrounded the Idaho Capitol Building in downtown Boise.  Parking was free on Sunday, so we parked and circled the block on foot.  The rotunda was open for close-up views of the interior arches and colonnades.

Beautifully landscaped, the Anne Frank
Human Rights Memorial is a tribute
to people everywhere.

“I think the building was patterned after the U.S. Capitol,” said Andy.  “It’s a replica but about a third the size.”

A photographer positioned six groomsmen and the groom, all in black tuxedos with rose-colored vests, on the cement front steps.  They squinted in the bright sun, but temperatures were pleasant 70’s.

Right in front of the main staircase was a replica of the Liberty Bell—no protection, no signs, no stops.  Andy rang it.  The clang reverberated a block away.

Gardens in front of the Idaho State Capitol
Building still bloom in early October.

“It didn’t say I couldn’t do it,” he laughed.  Moments later, others followed his example.  They were adults too.

Anne Morrison Memorial Park is their crown jewel.  It was swarming with Canada geese.  In another section older guys competed in a soccer tournament.  Cars lined the fields.  Moms sat on blankets on the sidelines, watching the game and rambunctious toddlers.

Boise was a lovely city.  “If you’re on welfare in Idaho, you’re not getting a big check,” said Andy, “so the city has money to spend on other things like parks.”

Platt Park outside the Boise Depot overlooks the entire city.  Built by Union Pacific railroad in 1927, the gardens have winding walkways, benches, a koi pond and a miniature volcano rock, lined with beautiful roses.  Here, a mother posed her two young children, all dressed up in their Sunday finest.  Two other women photographed a teenage girl.

“Senior picture?” I asked.

“Yes,” they all grinned.

Sue peeks behind the Liberty Bell
replica at the Idaho State Capitol.

Down below is Idaho State University.  We parked outside the Boise Depot and took the last elevator up to the Bell Tower.  “Only one bell still works,” explained the guide.  “It sounds at 5 p.m., noon and 8 a.m.  You can hear it from the campus.”  The family on the elevator with us agreed.  Their daughter was a freshman at ISU.



The panorama of Boise unfolds from
the top of Boise Depot's Platt Park.

From the top we had a panoramic view of Boise with lots of trees and the colors of fall creeping in.  The Boise Depot itself is a beautiful historic Spanish-style building, completely restored in 1993 at a cost of 3.5 million dollars.  It is owned by the city and rented for special events.  Built in 19025, for use as a Union Pacific railroad depot, the building was designed by New York architects and was heralded as “the most beautiful structure of its kind in the West.”

Setting the camera on timer, we manage a picture at Boise's
Platt Park, albeit a little crooked!

Outside on the railroad tracks was a huge black locomotive.  Authentic and right in place, it looked as if any moment it would belch steam and arrive right on schedule at the station.  And with weddings in the Grand Hall with its 44-foot ceiling, the train was the perfect way for a newly married couple to ride off into the sunset.