Day 2 - 7/25/12 - Glenns Ferry Idaho to Alpine Wyoming

Travel day two - 283 miles

Redtail sightings - Lost count at about 13

The dogs are officially on a hunger strike; I am sure they are pretty distraught about being cooped up in the truck with that squirmy little mini-human that pulls their hair. I know that everyone will survive, so I figured we will just save on dog food for a while.

Snake River as we leave Glenn's Ferry

We hit the road leaving Glenn’s Ferry, Stan and the Idaho winery. I still can’t believe Scott found an RV park with a winery, so kind of him to think of me. Scott and I have been lucky enough to live close to some of the nation’s best wine country- Napa, Sonoma and the lovely hidden gems of the Amador and Eldorado counties- home of my infamous fall from the trailer stairs with a case of wine in my hands; my sister Kelly lovingly retells that story every time she can. We had regular visits to the wine country with our great friends, Bill and Krista Wilhoyte, too much wine equals too much fun. These trips will be sorely missed.  Actually, just as sad is how incredibly difficult it is to access wines in Pennsylvania. I doubt any other state has crazier alcohol rules. My understanding is you can buy wine or beer in quantities of a 4.7289 ounces or less at the special secret entrance of very select stores where you have to traverse an obstacle course and then correctly answer a 2 page questionnaire about Pennsylvania sports teams. Guess I will have to stock up as we cross the country. Anyway, I digress.

As we leave the RV park we are again reminded that with the truck and trailer we can’t very easily pull over to snap pictures, some moments are best described by a picture rather than someone’s retelling. Case in point- as we are leaving the rv park we pass a herd of cows, one of those cows was getting a drink from a tall sprinkler by placing his entire mouth over the sprinkler and the water sprayed out from underneath his flapping lips. This was actually quite entertaining to see; but I am sure as you read about this it’s really not that entertaining…

Most of this day is spent driving east through southern Idaho; much of it along the Snake River. When we first head out, the area is actually quite picturesque farm country. For those fans of the movie Napoleon Dynamite (how could you not be?) they pretty much nailed the depiction if Idaho, “I caught you a delicious bass” that bass could have been from the Snake River and yes I googled that and there are bass in the Snake River... The River is really amazing and I had no idea how far it stretched and into such gorgeous country. We also finally spotted multiple Redtail Hawks. By about number 6 it had (apparently) become a competition between Scott and I, I was winning royally. There were some questionable bird sightings, unless both parties can verify, it does not count. We are heading west on 84 and pass by several dairy farms, Scott, in his most scholarly voice, explains that smells are to be appreciated as you get a much better feel for the area. I was getting much more of a feel for these areas than I needed.

Katelyn is still being a wonderful traveler and while sitting in her car seat has even flung some cheerios in the direction of the starving dogs. We had hit a few thunders storms and she seemed very interested in those, being Nevadans, a nice rain storm (or any rain storm) is really a novelty. The truck needs some fuel and we make a quick stop at a large Indian Casino, Resort, Grocery store, Coffee house and gas station, but no fireworks!?!?! Where are you supposed to pick up some whistlin' bungholes, spleen splitters, whisker biscuits, honkey lighters, hoosker doos, hoosker don'ts, cherry bombs, nipsy daisers, with or without the scooter stick, or one single whistlin' kitty chaser? I even thought we could pick up my Uncle William’s favorite firework of all time, the Spin Doctor, but no luck.

Break at Registry Rock Park

Registry rock

Signatures and dates of settlers on the Oregon Trail

We are due for a break and stopped at an area called Registry rock. Settlers who were traveling along the Oregon Trail stopped in this area and signed and dated a large rock before they moved on. We went and visited the rock and it was so interesting to see this names and dates. It was certainly humbling.
When we get tired of living in a trailer on the road I can consider that I don’t have to make the decision to barbecue one of my dogs for food to survive (Oliver would certainly go first). We also crossed over the highway to check out an area called Massacre rock. You never assume that something positive happened at a place called massacre rock. Sadly we thought for sure that the poor souls who joyously carved their names into Register rock met their demise at Massacre rock.  Actually it was a lovely area and we had a great view of the Snake River and the valley it was traveling through. Apparently it was called Massacre rocks undeservingly; the settlers were so concerned about the narrow canyons they had to travel through that they were just sure they would be ambushed, but there are no actual reports anyone ever was.

Enjoying Massacre rocks area, sounds like an oxymoron.

This was at an overlook rest stop.
Thank goodness I didn't have to use the restroom,
 as they just kept streaming out of that bus.
 It was almost like clowns piling out of a tiny car.

Overlook of Snake River

From Idaho Falls we head east to Alpine, Wyoming where our final destination is. We are still following the Snake River, which clearly does a big business with rafting and fly fishing. As we get closer to the Wyoming border we drive through an area called Swan Valley. It was a beautiful green valley along the river; we immediately decided this was on our short list of places to retire.

Swan Valley and our retirement home

As I am sure handling the harsh winters in that area while in our golden years would be a piece of cake; I think it would keep us young, I have heard once or twice “He who cuts his own wood warms himself twice” thank you to the Smith-DeArrieta clan for that one (and many others). Again, I ramble.

We crossed into Wyoming and almost immediately enter Alpine. It’s a tiny mountain town about 40 miles southwest of Jackson Hole, Wyoming. It seemed like a good landing spot since our plan was to spend the next day exploring in Jackson Hole and The Teton National Park. We pull into the RV Park; it could not have been soon enough for Ms. Katelyn who made it clear she was done with the days travels. We manage to circle the park twice looking for the office, not realizing that the office was a folding chair sitting outside with some papers being held down by a rock. The camp host popped out of her 70’s era conversion van, with “rollin’ lightly” emblazoned on the back, this is Wyoming, I have no idea what that actually references. She helps us get settled in and we finally decompress from our day on the road. 

Enjoying a piece of Nevada while in Wyoming

The terrible view from our campground