Two Moose on the Loose

Two moose sparing, yet apparently friends, just like Anne and me.

It was an unusual sight for two Southern Californians to wake up to two moose just outside the window. But that’s not all of the new experiences that have greeted us as we’ve headed northeast to the West. Interesting how this part of the country is called “The West,” while where we live, farther west, is called something else (not sure what). Even the “Southwest” is far to the east of where we live.

We’re just a couple of days out on our trek, and not yet to our Wyoming destination. We thought we were headed to Yellowstone, and plans for getting there are not completely abandoned, but as we traveled, we encountered a turn in the road.

Just one view of the artist-transformed building in Pocatello.

We’d moved on from Lava Hot Springs and, having made better time than expected, decided to slow down. We explored Pocatello, Idaho. Not knowing where to start we looked for any art gallery. Not knowing where to find one of those, we asked a passing postal lady. She knew. What we found was not just a gallery, but a renown sculptor and his economist wife who had purchased an old multi-storied building and transformed it into an artist warren. They had also recently bought the old firehouse and were transforming that into a high-vaulted studio to do “really big work.” It was not just interesting, it was inspiring.

Mexican food is just about everywhere these days. And welcome.

Then, passing by but not entering the Eastern Idaho State Fair in Blackfoot, we stopped for a Mexican lunch at at place not even a Southern Californian could pronounce, El Jalisciense. “Jalisco,” I know, the state Guadalajara is in, but I wonder if they’d done their market research before using such a name in these parts. At least they thought to put a cowboy on the sign, and the Rockies. Incidentally, they didn’t serve fish tacos, and though our waitress was from Guadalajara, she had never had one.

Another moose, one of Theodore Waddell’s Hallowed Absurdities.

Then we tooled up to Idaho Falls, again checking out the art scene. To have any kind of goal like that, we’ve found, gives just enough focus that you don’t go through a new place without seeing anything.

We checked out the Art Museum of Eastern Idaho and the “Hallowed Absurdities” exhibit by Theodore Waddell. We were truly moving very slow which, in the end, we saw as part of the key.

Still at the museum, I pulled out my phone just to see if anything had come in and found an email from a friend who had mentioned earlier that they have a place in Idaho. He’d read my Blank Slate of that morning and realized we were already on the road. His note was not just an invitation to check it out, but a strong hope that we’d stay there.

He was writing from Southern California. How could he know that where we would pick up his message was just 45 minutes from his place, and right at the turnoff to get there?

When something like that happens all I can say is, “That’s God.”

The bed, with a log step up, which helps, as it’s very high. A luxurious nightly burial ground.

So we did it, and have been here since. Yellowstone is still waiting, and Jackson Hole is still on schedule. In the meantime we’ve set up shop in this log and stone mini-mansion by the Snake River. I won’t even show photos as I couldn’t show enough, and I have a feeling there will be another occaion. Okay, I’ll show the bed, where we spend almost a third of our time.

While here Anne’s been doing artwork, and I’ve been editing another book project I’ve been working on. It’s wonderfully quiet; we’re completely alone. We have our books, our tools, the occasional moose and, as I mentioned, God.

Such a tour guide.

Ok, one more picture. It’s the view out the back, with a private trout pond, and no one but moose for miles.