Day 5 - The Sawtooth Mountains
(Arco, Idaho to Cambridge, Idaho, 456 miles )
Our route, Sunday, July 28h, 2002.
My favorite time of the day to ride is early morning. One reason for this is that I'm a morning person but that is only part of it. The other part is the wonderful fragrance that springs from the plants and soil as a result of the morning dew. So it was as we headed west on Highway 20 from Arco toward the Sawtooth Mountains and the Snake River valley.
Our departure from Arco had us running along the southern flank of the Pioneer Mountains and across the huge lava fields that make up a large hunk of southern Idaho. The scenery was spectacular as we passed through Craters of the Moon National Monument and beyond. A short way past the park we began to see beautiful hay filled valleys between the volcanic ridges. Some of this hay had been recently cut and its scent mixed with the morning air to create a wonderful aroma. As we traversed the ridges and valleys enjoying the scenery, I was suddenly jolted back into reality by the sight of a LEO that appeared coming over a hill toward us. I quickly grabbed some brake and scrubbed off a little speed. The minute he saw us he hit us with his instant on radar which caused my V-1 to bark loudly in my ears. Luckily my reaction was faster than his because by the time he zapped us, I was already at or below the Idaho highway speed limit of 65. We were just outside of the little burg of Carey when we almost got nabbed. This area is so remote it was the last place that I expected to see a cop. We continued on down the road at the posted speed limit then entered the town where we saw several large milk processing plants. I guess the combination of valleys filled with nice green hay growing in rich volcanic soil is heaven to a cow. I wonder if it's heaven to the folks who live there?
A few miles past Carey we stopped at a wide spot in the road called Picabo. We had not eaten breakfast yet and our tummies were beginning to complain so we stopped at what we thought was a convenience store at a gas station. Upon entering the establishment it became clear this was no ordinary store. The place was huge and most of the merchandise was fly fishing related. There wasn't much in the way of food so we left. As we were leaving I noticed that there were two single engine Cessna's out behind the store. I thought to myself that there must be a lot of money in fly fishing! Little did I know because the next thirty or forty miles would find us in some areas that were obviously full of very, very wealthy folks.
Our stomachs still complaining, we turned north on Highway 75 and soon found ourselves in the beautiful little town of Bellevue. There we finally gave way to our stomachs demands and had an excellent breakfast at a place called "Jessies". I had what I consider one of the best omelets I've ever eaten.
As we finished our meal and walked outside of the restaurant, a private turboprop airplane passed overhead at a very low altitude indicating that an airport was nearby. I remembered that the Idaho map I was using indicated no towns of any significant size within at least a hundred miles. Why was an airport big enough to handle large private planes needed in such a remote area I wondered? As we proceeded north from Bellevue this question was answered as we passed a fair size airport bursting at the seams with private aircraft at the town of Hailey. My question as to why an airport big enough to handle large aircraft was needed in such a remote area was answered as we passed through the towns of Hailey and Ketchum. The whole area was awash in expensive homes and cars. Right around Ketchum, in the vicinity of a ski lift, we saw a sign for Sun Valley and my brain clicked just a little. I seemed to remember that Sun Valley was a ski resort of some kind but I was unsure (I've never been a skier or had any interest in it). My wife later informed me that Sun Valley was indeed a famous ski resort. I could sure see why people would want to have vacation homes in this part of Idaho because the scenery was great.
Finally we hit the Sawtooth Mountains. The scenery was spectacular and unlike Yellowstone, the roads were almost deserted. The mountains were beautiful and some of the valleys were simply stunning.
Sawtooth Mountains, Idaho
A valley, somewhere in the Sawtooth Mountain Range.
Our tour of the Sawtooth National Recreation Area over, we got on Highway 21 at Stanley and headed southwest to Lowman where we got on a small road that cut over to the town of Banks. For the first time since Yellowstone we began to see a significant amount of traffic. Near Banks we got on Highway 55 and headed north. This highway paralleled the Payette river which was full of rafters, swimmers and kayakers. It was Sunday afternoon and since this highway was the main road leading north out of Boise it was jam packed with people trying to get back home as fast as they could. Though we had an easier time of it heading north against the southbound traffic, it was still plenty crowded in our lane. We were having to keep a really sharp eye on southbound traffic so as to spot frustrated southbounders trying to pass on this two lane road where there wasn't enough room to do so. Sure enough, it happened once and I had to drive right on the edge of the road to keep some bonehead from making me his hood ornament.
At the town of Cascade on the Payette River we decided to stop and grab a bite to eat at a place called "Grandma's Place". The food was OK but what really made the place memorable was a guy by the name of Chuck who came up to our table and started talking about ST's. Turned out he owned one and had seen our ST's parked outside. He was familiar with the ST1100 email list and the WeSTOC rally. I couldn't help but thinking how small the motorcycle sport-touring community must be.
After lunch we got back on Highway 55 where the traffic continued to be very heavy. At McCall we came upon a very picturesque lake named Payette Lake that was filled with sailboats of all sizes and shapes. Finally, the traffic thinned out and eventually disappeared at New Meadows where we got on Highway 95 and headed south to Cambridge. Somewhere along this route a guy on a BMW RS appeared on our tails. While in the tight stuff he was on our rear end but as soon as we got on the straight roads, "Beemer Boy" pulled back and refused to pass us. I never did figure out what this guy was up to. Once in Cambridge we stopped to rest before moving on but decided instead to stay there for the night. We checked in to the Frontier Motel where the price was quite reasonable and the rooms neat and clean. After cleaning up and eating, we went back to the motel where Ken changed a burned out headlight bulb. Finally, after a long and memorable day, I went back to my room and hit the sack in anticipation of the following day when we would cross the Snake River and finally be in Oregon.