I realized at some point in Idaho that I have lived most of my life in the atomic/extraterrestrial corridor that runs from somewhere in Mexico, through Arizona, New Mexicio, Nevada and north to the Canadian border. Maybe this has made me slightly more sensitive to a Cold War mentality. The government tests nuclear weapons and alien spaceships in my back yard, and they are still working on storing the country's nuclear waste in a little hill down south. So maybe at times I get a little agitated and become convinced the world as we know it won't last for long, whether it's intervention from above or a mistake down below. I think a lot of my friends thought I was losing it when I wanted to learn wilderness survival and started reading by candlelight (just to practice for a future without electricity), but if those guys in Arco, ID are right, I'll be laughing madly alone in the desert while the rest of you will be blowing by in an atomic dust devil.

But I should back up a bit, seeing as it has been nearly two weeks since we last posted. When we last left off we were sleeping behind a sporting goods store and hanging out with drifters at the gas station in Jackson, WY. Since then we have continued our mad dash across the western states. To some it may seem that we are in a hurry, but really it is just the nature of this beast. In addition to becoming much stronger riders, we are now back in a land that doesn't ask you to stop too often. It offers more long stretches of riding that allow you to take in the scenery at 12 mph, roads with fewer cars, and more miles between towns or general stores.

We left Jackson and followed the Snake River from its Teton source into Idaho. The upper Snake is a beautiful river, flowing cold and clean from the mountains into a large ancient valley carved out by glaciers. We encountered its second damming just after entering Idaho at the Palisades, and as we climbed the curvy highway around the reservoir, I couldn't help but see that this must be one of the most profitable things that man can do to nature. When a river is dammed it provides not only a source of electricity, but it also creates a new recreation area where the state can charge people to allow them to park their RV in a camp area and plug in. That is big money considering the amount of RVs we have seen on the road since somewhere in South Dakota. The west is no longer the land of cowboys and Indains, but RVs and Jeeps, oftentimes one towing the other.

After the dam we entered a part of Idaho which looked much more like the Midwest than I wanted it to. But it turned out to have some beauty of its own. We passed by huge fields of what must have been wheat stretching back for miles from the highway. In the failing light it was literally golden—blazing in the twilight. We camped near a potato field just off the roadway and did not pay for electricity or running water. Running water comes from a bicycle water bottle and provides just enough force to blast some of the chain grease from my hands—sufficiently clean to eat peanut butter and crackers without tasting the ceramic seal of my drivetrain.

Photo courtesy of JK

The next day we woke up to threatening thunderstorms, but we had nowhere else to go so we rode. As we approached the “Rest Area ½ Mile” sign, the sky let loose and by the time we reached it our pants were soaked by rain. We considered changing, but the rain had stopped once we reached the shelter and there was something new in the air, or a lack actually. Even after a small rain shower, the aridity of Idaho was apparent, and just like we would back at home, we let our pants dry in the breeze as we rode.

We passed through Idaho Falls quickly, picking up some lunch, groceries, and bike supplies before heading out for our main Idaho destination: Craters of the Moon National Monument. I heard about this place from an article about lesser known national parks and monuments. And thus begun the theme of our Idaho adventure that became increasingly apparent as we got closer to Craters: Cold War Syndrome.

Many miles outside of Idaho Falls into the desert is Idaho National Laboratory. As you ride down the highway there is a huge sign telling you that you are entering the territory of the lab. There must be hundreds or even thousands of people working out there because about 40 buses for the employees passed us coming back and forth from the nearest town. What they are working on is uncertain. I'll admit that Joel was definitely more sensitive than I was, but eventually I came around. We started thinking that those buttes were certainly hiding something—more than likely sinister. Joel read a placard at a rest area telling us that the area is home to a more concentrated amount of nuclear reactors than anywhere else in the world and is also is the birthplace of the nuclear navy submarines. Imagining secret underground extraterrestrial starcraft research or nuclear weapons facilities got us through the day and all the way to Arco, where our suspicions were renewed.

A sinister butte. Courtesy of JK

 We arrived in Arco as the sun was setting. We had ridden almost 100 miles and we weren't looking forward to searching for a campground so we asked a policeman if there was any free camping in town. He called the deputy sheriff and checked to see if it was alright, and sure enough they said as long as we were out early in the morning, we were free to set up our tent in the park. With the law on our side, we decided to get some hot chocolate at the gas station, but when we ran into a couple of truckers we got a lecture on foreign policy instead.

Our knowledge of current events is somewhat limited. It is gathered from magazine racks in the grocery store and consists mostly of what is happening between Rob and Kristen, the two stars of the Twilight movies. I know for a fact that she “dazzles” him. I also know that they have just recently been engaged. I don't know what the details or obstacles are in the new healthcare plan. I don't know what is happening in Pakistan. And I have no idea what is happening in Russia. But luckily we ran into two truck drivers who were more than willing to fill us in. After the typical preliminaries, the subject of careers and our lives in the future came up. But had we heard the latest? Vladimir Putin, just that day, had essentially told Obama and the rest of the world to “go fuck themselves” and said they would honor no nonproliferation treaties. They were loading missiles onto ships as we spoke and the whole world was entering a finger-on-the-button red alert.

With this news firmly in our minds we set up our camp behind the Science Center, a small building in the park next to the tail of an old submarine. I don't know why anything mattered anymore, what with the entire world on the brink of nuclear Armageddon, but we might as well sleep comfortably. “Would they even have time to rebuild the Berlin Wall?” I wondered as I drifted off to sleep humming the tune to “Duck and Cover.” At least I was in Atomic City, Arco, ID, the first American city to be lit by atomic energy on July 17, 1955. If there were early targets, this was one of them, and I wouldn't have to bear witness to the destruction of the planet and the loss of everyone I know and love. Gentle, comforting thoughts.

Photo by JK

 Somehow the sun rose and was not obstructed by fallout, so we made it through the night and were able to go have breakfast. We ate at Pickle's Place, “Home of the Atomic Burger.” My mind started to ease back into normal thinking as I realized that the locals here must be extra sensitive to Cold War Syndrome, and that maybe everything was going to be alright. If the Denver Hash made with Idaho potatoes was any indicator, things were only getting better.

From Arco we were only 20 miles from Craters of the Moon, so we got there early in the morning and were able to grab a good campsite in the lava field. We set up our tent and then headed separate ways to check out the park.

The North Crater.

From the name, I expected barren dusty stretches with no life to speak of for miles. What I actually saw was a lot of lava. It should probably be renamed Craters of the Volcano, because it really is not very moon-like. It is much more like a volcano. Indeed, it is a volcano. This strange black spot in the desert came about as a result of a single hotspot that has been passed over by the continent of North America. This hotspot is responsible for craters in Oregon, Idaho, Wyoming, and currently resides under Yellowstone National Park. At Craters of the Moon it created a lava field that stretches for 50 miles and includes features like lava tubes, cinder cones, spatter cones, and lots of lava. I will probably make my Hawaiian friends proud because I can recognize the two types of lava: Pahoehoe and A'a. I took a hike into a giant crater and walked through a lava tube, and still got back to the campsite in time to relax a bit. The best part of the day though was the lack of aliens, Russians, and atomic war.

Indian Tunnel lava tube.

 After Craters of the Moon, we still had about half of Idaho to cross. Though it was mostly desert, we entered into some strange valleys that were brimming with life. What struck me most was the amazing variety of fragrances. Withing a few miles, I smelled onions, black pepper, peppermint, and hops. Between those smells and the potato fields, I left Idaho with good impressions. My Cold War Syndrome had subsided, and I was ready to move on to the next state, which has its own stories.