Recently my camera and I took a week-long trip to southern Idaho to visit the western division of the Strong family; I returned with plenty of photographs … and a much greater appreciation for trees.
If You Ever Want To See Your Trip Alive Again, Leave The Bag At The Counter, Fly To Minneapolis And Wait At Gate C1 For Further Instructions
Our flight to Boise left Detroit at 6:30 Saturday morning. If that sounds like a bad idea, let me assure you: unless you’re the morningest morning person on earth, it really is. (Just as nothing good happens after midnight, so, I propose, nothing good happens before 9:00 in the morning.) I set my alarm for 3:45, and while I know I started walking around with my eyes open at that time, I don’t think I woke up until Monday morning.
For some strange reason Boise isn’t a primary destination from Detroit, so we had to make a stop in Minnesota before the airline would let us go where we really wanted to go. Flying with layovers reminds me of those convoluted ransom delivery sequences in kidnap movies where the kidnappers lead the deliverer through a variety of steps to make sure he’s not dragging the authorities along with him. Board this flight in Detroit and take it to Minnesota; wait two hours, and then board this flight and take it to Boise. When we landed in Boise, I almost expected to find a phone booth with a map and further instructions taped to the bottom of the phone.
Ah, but the layover in Minneapolis had a tasty bright spot in it. Our departure gate was C1, which turned out to be halfway across the airport — which, while very nice, is also somewhat not small — from our arrival gate, but which also turned out to have the best possible amenity directly next door:
Yes, there was a Starbucks right next to our gate. After having stumbled out of bed seemingly before I even went to bed, this was a supremely welcome sight. (Even better: there were bathrooms on the other side of the Starbucks.) I suppose the layover situation could have gotten better, maybe with an incontinent ATM leaking $20 bills in our direction or Steve Jobs walking by handing out free computers and iPods, but that wasn’t likely (mainly because the only thing Apple hands out free is a pound of AWESOME with every product).
While we were waiting at the magical gate C1, I learned two important things from the Minneapolis airport:
- Best Buy has vending machines. Seriously, they do. I understand the importance of snack vending machines — I’ve been hungry enough to need a quick candy bar to avert real problems — but an electronics vending machine? Maybe gadgets are becoming a bit too important to us if we have immediate needs that call for a vending machine.
- It seems Minnesota has been experiencing an epidemic of giant babies. I noticed this warning label on the baby changing station in the bathroom:
I suppose that could be an average-size baby falling off a very small changing table; however, the changing table didn’t seem smaller than normal, so I can conclude only that they’ve had problems with parents trying to put giant babies on the changing tables. (Also … are those sparks flying from the giant baby’s head?)
I’ve Heard Of A Paperless Office, But … A Paperless State?
Our final destination wasn’t Boise; it was Mountain Home, which is about half an hour outside Boise. The drive to Mountain Home gave us a quick introduction to one of the biggest differences between Michigan and southern Idaho: Michigan has trees. A lot of trees. I mean, they’re all over the place, casting shade and looking majestic and keeping birds from going homeless and providing delicious syrup and whatnot. You really can’t go anywhere without having trees around you in Michigan. But Idaho?
Yes, the southern Idaho landscape can be a major shock to the system of lifelong Midwesterners who are used to a daily dose of ubiquitous leafy greens. But as the above photo shows, it’s beautiful in an entirely different way. The green tree-filled Midwestern landscape will always feel like home to me, but I enjoy experiencing something different, and the views surrounding Boise are different indeed … particularly when it comes to those huge chunks of dirt and rock jutting up from the ground. What are those called? Mountains? Yeah, those are cool.
Come back soon for the next installment of the Famous Potato Diaries, which will feature more pictures to offset all the blahblahblah.
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Yeah for coffee. It allows you to put one foot in front of the other. They had Starbucks coffee in the hospital cafeteria when we were there with Lydia. I got the largest size available.
I have a girl in my youth group who swears that Napoleon Dynamite is a like a true documentary on what life is like in Idaho. I’ve tried to argue with her but she’s convinced that life is like that there.
It’s a toss-up; as a geologist, I am outcrop- and mountain-starved here in the Midwest, and every time I venture anywhere which has one or both of those things I feel like I can breathe easier. and that I am once again among dear friends. But you are right; the Western landscape can be rather severe and eventually I start craving the sight of something green and longing for shade that doesn’t come from a boulder.
Around here the only outcrop I see with regularity is one of the Berea Sandstone along the Ohio Turnpike on the way to my hometown near Cleveland. I can’t resist shouting, “Look! ROCKS!” every time I pass by, even if I’m the only one in the car.