Although it's not as well-known as nearby Wallace, Kellogg is the Silver Valley's largest town, and was our base during our four-day stay in the region. It's a nice village stretched out along the Coeur d'Alene Mountains, with a population around 2000; less historic and picturesque than Wallace, perhaps, but with a burgeoning tourism industry of its own, thanks largely to the Silver Mountain Ski Resort.
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.
Not much is required for a good Zip Line course. A few high-altitude hills or trees. Some poles stuck into the ground. Wire. Harnesses and helmets. That's about it. Nice views are a plus, but optional. After all, when you're flying through the air at 45mph, looking around isn't a priority. But the mountain vistas on display during our run through Silver Streak's course were too beautiful to completely ignore. Most of my zips went like this: terror ("WAGHHHHHHH!"), admiring nature's beauty ("AHHHHHHHH!"), and back to terror ("AAYYYYGGGHGHGHHG!").
Word had spread around Wallace that the Feds were on their way in, and the town's bordellos had to close up fast. Under the vigilant eyes of Madame Ginger, the working girls of The Oasis grabbed what they could carry and left everything else behind. Their departure marked a sudden and unexpected end to prostitution in Wallace. The year was 1988.
Moscow is best known as home to the University of Idaho. It's a college town through and through, with the kinds of shops, restaurants and environment which cater to students and professors. With its tree-lined, pedestrian-friendly streets, youthful population and progressive, laid-back atmosphere, Moscow might fit better in New England than Idaho.
PETA members, feel free to skip this post. You're not the target audience for the Jack O'Connor Hunting Heritage and Education Center, and probably won't appreciate the photos which are to come (hint: a lot of dead animals). Everyone else, please follow me.
The month that we arrived in Idaho was a month of fire: August 2012 saw the state's worst wildfires in more than a decade. Thankfully, we were never directly affected by the flames, but their smoke was a constant companion, obscuring the normally clear blue skies of the Northwest behind a heavy screen of haze.
On the way from Riggins to Lewiston, we stopped in at Hoot's Cafe for lunch. Hoot's is owned and operated by a woman whose name happens to be Hootie, who happens loves owls, and who just so happens to resemble one. Sometimes I get the feeling that Idaho is messing with us.
Any doubts as to the toughness of little Riggins, nestled between two of North America's deepest river gorges, can be dispelled by its original name, "Gouge Eye", which originated from a legendary bar fight between rowdy locals and gold-hunting prospectors.
For the last few miles on the way to the Boulder Lake Trailhead, we were following two buses. School buses. School buses full of peppy children excited for their long-awaited day out. "I can't believe this", I hissed at Jürgen. And, of course, they were going on the exact same hike as us. We parked, put on our boots, and then waded into the mess of screaming, happy kids. Off on our big day of pristine nature and peaceful solitude.
