Stage 10 - A Thousand Miles From Nowhere

Sunday, June 16, 2013
Glenns Ferry, Idaho, United States
"I'm a thousand miles from nowhere. Time don't matter to me. I'm a thousand miles from nowhere. And there's no place I'd rather be."  (Dwight Yoakam)


We weren't really that far from nowhere - but it felt like it could be. As I write this, it is after 10:30 on Sunday (Father's Day) and for some reason I can’t get to sleep, but everyone else has been out for over an hour. It’s hard to remember everything that transpired today – this morning (and Nampa) seems days ago.

We arose early, knowing the day would get quite warm. The idea was to be on the road early. But breakfast at Denny’s took time, packing the car up took time, and driving back to where we finished yesterday took time. So it was about 8:30 when we finally started riding.

But the day started with gentle tailwinds, and an easy first few miles until Idaho 78 began to climb to Murphy (where we had hoped to make it yesterday). But the tailwinds made the climb easier, and the temperature wasn’t hot (yet). As we rode, the signs of civilization became fewer and fewer. No farms, a dry ranch here and there, then no power poles, no fences, until there was nothing man made but the pavement under our wheels (which was smooth – no chip seal!). We felt as if we could be a thousand miles from nowhere. The road continued to mostly rise. Murphy appeared in a little valley (sort of), and then disappeared in our mirrors. The road continued to rise and we got closer and closer to a thousand miles from nowhere. It also began to get warm. As often, Dennis ascended faster and hit our high elevation at about 3400 feet, where a dirt road took off toward the old Eagle War silver mine, and Diamond Gulch (no diamonds were ever found there, however). Here he found of group of about ten motorcycle riders from the Czech Republic, resting for a few minutes. They come to the states every year, rent motorcycles and tour a part of the country. Ann and I arrived just before they hit the road – Ann’s comment to them, after the ten or more miles of (gentle) climbing, was "Your way looks easier!"

From here we knew we would descend back to the Snake River valley, but not very directly. The road fell, then rose again, several times, and in one place rather steeply. For a moment, Ann wasn’t sure she could ride the hill. But she has become stronger over the course of this ride and made it up. The road then fell quite gently. But with the temperature rising we were using up our water. We weren’t out, yet, but didn’t know where more would be available. We stopped when we saw a truck pulled off the road to ask where the nearest water would be. It was a young family who had stopped when their young daughter got car sick. They said Grand View was about 15 miles. But they had a case of water bottles in their truck and generously gave us three or four bottles, which we used to refill our “canteens”. They wouldn’t let us pay them for it.

We took off again, and in about ten miles we started seeing farms again. It is amazing how the landscape changes when man “reclaims” (the Government term) the land and can plant and water crops in the desert! Lea caught up to us in the car (having been dispatched on several shopping errands for the morning), and we all met at “Centennial Park” in Grand View for lunch, having logged about 40 miles. We drank lots of Coke and water with lunch (sandwiches, chips and the last of the watermelon) sitting in the shade of a nice picnic shelter. We refilled our water bottles (again), reapplied sunscreen, and then ventured back into the sun, directing Lea to Glenn’s Ferry to find a motel. We weren’t sure we could make it that far, but there wasn’t going to be anyplace else nearer. So we planned to call her when we had had enough for the day (“planned” -note the foreshadowing here in the story!).

The ride went well, although it continued to get hotter. We hit some good downhill combined with a tailwind, which brought us into Bruneau at the 60 mile mark. We questioned two boys driving a golf cart on the “City” streets as to where we could get a cold coke or some ice cream, and they directed us to the little store a block away (there are only about three blocks in Bruneau). And by “little” store I mean little! I have friends with living rooms bigger than this store. But they had cold Coke and ice cream, so we sat on the bench outside in the shade and tried to cool off. Ann decided she would buy some cold bottled water, dump her (warm) water (from her water bottle) on her head and back, and put the cold water into her water bottle. Instead, the gal inside let Dennis and Ann refill with cold water from the tap.

Thus refreshed, we decided we would make it over the next hill and probably call it a day. We called Lea, and she said she had an air conditioned motel room for us in Glenn’s Ferry, and would come back and meet us – she estimated it would be about half an hour. We knew this next hill was steep (about 4% - that seems even steeper when you’re hot and tired), but only a few miles long. We set out, and with a cross wind to cool us, the hill was less than we dreaded. Dennis made it up and over first while I stayed with Ann. The other side was about two miles of equally steep downhill, which made for good way to cool off. Dennis had gone on ahead, and we found him sheltering in the shade of a signpost at the bottom of the hill, waiting for us. He asked if we should just wait here for Lea. I said no, we should keep on going (a wise decision, it turns out), as there really wasn’t enough shade behind that post for all three of us.

A few more miles and we could see another long hill to climb up ahead. Where was Lea? We determined that if we started this hill we would finish it as we didn’t want to face it tomorrow. From Ann’s perspective, this hill was much harder than the one out of Bruneau- longer and hotter, even if not so steep. We lost Dennis as he again ascended faster than us. When we crossed the top, we couldn’t see him. Where was Lea?

The wind from the descent down the other side helped cool us off. We finally caught up to Dennis, who had heard from Lea. She had missed a turn on the way back and was “lost” on Idaho Route 51. She was turned around and coming back and we would meet her in Hammett, a few miles ahead. By this time, Ann and I had decided that since we had a room waiting for us in Glenn’s Ferry we would just as soon ride all the way there, and then start directly from the motel in the morning, rather than drive back to some spot in the road where we stopped today. We were hot, but not tired, and we guessed Glenn’s Ferry was only about 8 miles past Hammett. This inspired Dennis to do the same, so he rode ahead to meet Lea in Hammet, while Ann and I chased irrigation sprinklers that overshot their field and hit us in the road.

We made Hammett (where Idaho 78 ends)after coming all the way down and crossing the Snake River (Ann almost stopped to take a dip!). From Hammett, we got on Old US 30 to go to Glenn’s Ferry. When they say “old”, they mean “OLD”! The road is not in great shape, old chip seal, patches, etc. Combined with the heat reflected from the road surface, it made for a not so great ending to an otherwise good (albeit hot) day. But we made it into Glenn’s Ferry and the air conditioned motel room, having done almost 90 miles!


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