The sun was hot on the back of my neck as I crouched down over another pile of rocks, wielding my hammer and garden fork. My legs were getting sore, and I kept forgetting to drink water, but the growing exhaustion didn't matter. Every time I had almost convinced myself to quit, a shiny glint appeared underfoot. Yes, my precious, another opal!
Driving along the Salmon River Scenic Byway, we entered the Land of the Yankee Fork: a state park which stretches out to the south of Challis, dedicated to the mining history of the area. There are three ghost towns in the park, and we decided to make a stop at Bayhorse.
The day after visiting the Sierra Silver Mines in nearby Wallace, we were invited to check out Kellogg's Crystal Gold Mines. Two mines in two days might sound repetitive, but they offered sufficiently distinct experiences to make each worth the time.
The history of Wallace is synonymous with that of silver mining in the Coeur d'Alene Mountains. The town was founded when silver was discovered, thrived as long as the mineral was abundant, and faded once the mines closed up shop. The Sierra Silver Mine Tour confidently describes itself as "the most popular, interesting, and instructive tour in the Northwest", and offers an excellent primer to both Wallace and the industry which defined it.
On the drive back from historic Warren, we decided to check out the Burgdorf Hot Springs. This had been an area sacred to the Nez Perce tribe, but was taken over during the gold mining days by an enterprising fellow named Fred Burgdorf. He saw the financial potential in the natural hot springs, and turned Burgdorf into one of Idaho's first resort towns.
Warren is the most remote town that we visited in Idaho, stationed at the end of a dirt road 45 miles out of McCall. It's a moderately popular summer getaway which empties out almost entirely once snow sets in. Understandable, since the only road into town closes for winter. After that, it's either snowmobile or airplane.
Maybe it was all the Mountain Dew we'd been drinking, but Jürgen and I woke up on Saturday morning with an unquenchable thirst for crazy action. "Dude!" I yelled at him. "Extreeeeme!" came his frenzied reply. Mouths frothing, we examined our options. Repelling in the Sawtooths? Lame. Kayaking in Hell's Canyon? Snooze-ville. But what's this? An ice cream social in historic Roseberry? Sounds like it's time to get our party shoes on!
