Expressive Features

Late last year, and a few months after we moved to Idaho, LC and I had some business to do in Pocatello.

We left the house early and had full intentions of finding some public access areas at the American Falls Reservoir, before moving on to the town of Poky (which we happily avoid as often as possible, and which we get in and out of as quickly as we can when we can't avoid it).

Turning off the interstate, we drove a paved secondary road and then turned off, heading in the general direction of the reservoir.

Wandering aimlessly around gravel country roads that we did not know, we found ourselves deeply embedded in farm country.

Crops were already done by that time of year, the canals were dry, the huge fields were brown and dormant, and the irrigation equipment loomed large and silent at the edge of fields, prepared to wait out the upcoming long, barren winter.

I was stunned at the size of the fields.  Idaho has more serious farming than Wyoming could ever hope to have, and I didn't realize that until we moved here.

After much wandering we found the water.

The problem was that we found endless private farm land, and could not find anything that remotely looked like a public access area.

WTH?  How do people get DOWN to it?  

We could see water (yes......yes......so close and yet so far as they say although I don't know who "they" are) 

but couldn't get to it, and after wandering gravely roads and barren fields for a long time, eventually had to give up on the effort because - as they say - we had places to go and things to do.

Fast forward a few months and in late winter LC and I found ourselves driving Hwy 39 (the two lane highway between Blackfoot and Aberdeen) multiple times, as we headed to the home of  those who desperately wanted people to finish the job of clearing up their downed trees.

In need of wood and in short supply of money, we were happy to oblige.

And while driving Hwy 39 we found...........yes............signs pointing the way to multiple public access areas of lakes, rivers and the reservoir.

During that first trip to cut wood both LC and I resolved that we would explore these accesses when wood cutting was finally done.

On our last wood cutting day a few weeks later, instead of turning left and heading towards the two lane to make our way home, we instead turned right and headed towards the reservoir.

We were tired and hot and dirty and hungry, but every time we had been to the home we had seen the water off in the distance, and on this day we impulsively decided to make one quick stop before driving our booty to the house.

And this is what we found......................

As I stood at the top of a cliff looking out over this place I realized just how much I had missed scenes just like this.

The sky was perfect.  The water was perfect.  There was sand and outcroppings and seagulls and mountains and choppy waves lashing against the shore.

The trees were still bare.  Of course they were - it was still only March.  In Idaho.  At 5000 feet.

With the warmth we had had recently, it was easy to forget all of that.  But one day the trees would all be green again.

I had seen the reservoir on a map (and we had seen parts of it from a distance beyond endless brown fields) but I had not realized just how big this body of water was.

I made a comment to LC about it being as big as Woods Reservoir in Tennessee.

LC smiled - no - it's MUCH bigger than Woods.

He was right.  I hadn't realized.

American Falls Reservoir

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/American_Falls_Dam

Woods Reservoir

http://www.lake-maps.com/lakeinfo/tennessee/woods.htm

We had both been warm while messing around with heavy logs, but close to the water it was windy and cool.

I hated to leave this place but we both needed things.

Food.  Cleanliness.  To unload a heavily loaded truck.  

We visited a couple of other local fishing holes a few days later.

A blog for another day.

We found water and I was very glad to see it..................

A lake is the landscape's most beautiful and expressive feature.  It is earth's eye; looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature..............Henry David Thoreau

On The World

I was in Blackfoot a few days ago, killing time while waiting for an appointment, and on a warm early spring day that was filled with watery sunshine, I walked a short ways at a park in back of town.

It is a huge park.  A wonderful place for locals to relax out of doors without having to travel outside the city limits.

LC, Kory and I visited this place a couple of months ago when it was still deep winter.  The sun was shining and I had a bright idea to eat lunch at the park, which turned out to be not such a bright idea because it was freezing cold outside.

Alone together at this park, we ended up quickly scarfing down burgers and fries and then heading back to the truck.

Two months later the day was warm and the park was filled with people eager to enjoy the first signs of spring.

The park contains a wonderful variety of attractions designed for people of all ages.  Covered picnic areas, open picnic tables, a huge still-dry lake for swimming and boating, play equipment, a skate park, basketball courts and more.

In back of this large city park is both a small aircraft airstrip with hangars, and a golf course.

A long paved green-way walking/cycling path circumnavigates the entire complex.

As I climbed out of the truck I stood for a moment and looked around me, trying to get the lay of the land.

Looking at my watch I realized that I still had a couple of hours before I had to be somewhere else.

More than enough time to explore.

Turning to my right I headed for the very large covered picnic area that overlooks the lake.

One lone seagull caught my attention and I absently snapped this picture of him waddling in the brown and ungrowing grass, before realizing that he was actually one of a handful of seagulls and the others were floating on the wind over the park...................

After snapping this picture I read the sign more closely and then smiled to myself.

Swimming in roped area only.

The lake would be filled with water, and laughing and screaming kids would overtake this park soon enough, but on this day I looked beyond the sign and saw only a bone dry hole in the ground.

Swimming in roped area only.

When I was here with LC and Kory during the winter the entire park felt abandoned and perfectly quiet.

Looking at the uneven dirt on the bottom of the lake I could already hear the kids that would soon be here.  

Looking to my left I could see and hear the traffic on the Interstate.

This park was beginning to come to life again, and that returning-to-life would continue to pick up speed until it was filled with green and people and water and motorized and non-motorized boats through the summer...........

Walking up the ramp of the picnic shelter I sat down at one of the picnic tables and looked again out over the dry lake, wishing that it was filled with water already.

There were kids on the play equipment behind me.

Walking on the grass on the opposite side of the shelter was a young father with his toddler.  A pretty little girl who I guessed was not yet two.

I watched them for a moment and then looked away, focusing again on the lake.

On the world but not in it....................

On the world but not in it.............

Many years ago when I was young and strong and very fit I ran.  A lot.

I was in college at the time, going through a divorce and fighting a custody battle for my two little boys, when one morning I ran on a day very much like this one.

I had an old school walkman that was clipped to the elastic waist of my running shorts, and I ran often while listening to an old cassette tape of the music from the movie Top Gun.

Eventually I found my way to a park also very much like this one and (still listening to music) climbed up onto a picnic table, sitting and resting for a few moments and enjoying the beautiful day before continuing on with my run.

As I sat on the table section of the picnic table I looked over and saw a young father playing with his toddler.

The small child was a little boy about the same age as Chris, and as I watched them playing and laughing together I listened to a song on my tape called Take My Breath Away

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KV0CivXQRDw

Even after all these years I still can't listen to that song without thinking about that man and his little boy, and the sheer sadness I felt in those moments while sitting and watching them at that park, because my boys were not with me.

By the time the song was done I was already running again..................

One of a handful of ramps that will soon lead down to the water.............

I was both pleased and surprised to see this Life Jacket Loaner Station.

I had not seen one since living in Alaska, and when I first saw such a station in Juneau it had caught me by surprise.

Life jackets left out for public use in Tennessee would have been stolen immediately..................

I had been slowly wandering on the grass and taking random pictures without paying much attention to what was around me.

After leaving the life jacket station I turned, crossed through a wide span of grassy area and began to head back the way I had come.  The basketball courts, play equipment, skate park - all were located at the opposite end of the park...................

It was a nice city park.  A way for residents and visitors to enjoy outdoor activities without having the travel.

But in truth it was far too civilized of a place for my taste.

None stop traffic on the Interstate.  Signs for parking areas, signs reminding that you swim at your own risk, signs for life jackets, signs showing direction of traffic, signs reminding boat owners that there was a $5 launch fee, signs reminding bathers that there was no lifeguard on duty and swim between the ropes and you might get jock itch from swimming here, and on and on.

It was a nice place to kill an hour of my time, and it was a nice place for skate boarders and kids and parents and grandparents to kill some time on a day when everyone had spring fever.

But still far too civilized for my taste.................

Absently wandering, I continued slowly moving from one end of the park across to the opposite end of the park.

Passing the skate board park and passing the basketball courts, I headed towards an even larger covered pavilion than the one where I had first started my slow walk.

A huge covered area, it contained fire pits against two opposite walls and numerous picnic tables.

They don't have such things in SE Tennessee, but I can never see covered pavilions and fire pits now without thinking of Juneau...................

It is not usual for me to nap during the day, but after sleeping badly for a number of days I napped a couple of afternoons ago.

And dreamed of Sean.

That night I dreamed of Sean a second time.

I only remember pieces of the dreams.  Small shreds of stories created by a subconscious that was overtired.  

I can still see his face.  Hear his voice.  Feel his skin underneath my hand as I reached up to caress his face.  Hear his laugh after telling me one of his stupid jokes..................

After inspecting the pavilion and looking out over one more play park, I turned, crossed through the empty basketball court and headed towards a group of kids happily skateboarding without helmets or elbow pads or knee pads.

Laughing with each other.  Easily performing their outrageously dangerous maneuvers on skateboards and scooters.................

I watched the daredevils for a long time, enjoying the ease and effortlessness of their physicality.

Looking down at my watch I realized that I still had way too much time to kill.

It was a nice day, but boredom derived from restlessness was beginning to set in.

I wandered back towards the truck, and as I did I impulsively reached into my jacket pocket, scrolled down through my contacts and hit the button when I found the right number.

Hi Doc!  How you doin?  Staying out of trouble??

As I listened to this old man (that I had met in Cody) happily babble on in his self-absorbed way about his life and only his life, I found a picnic table in the sun, sat down, and listened to him babble.

Twenty minutes later I hung up the phone, got up from the table and headed towards the truck..............

In the movie Terminator II there is a dream scene.

Sarah Conner had been carving text into a wooden picnic table with a knife when she falls asleep.

In her dream she can hear mothers and children laughing as they play together in a children's play park.

Dressed in black military combat clothing she walks over to the high chain link fence, interlocks her fingers in the chains and watches the families for a moment.

Violently Sarah begins to shake the fence while also silently screaming at the families.

When nobody hears her she shakes the fence even more violently, her silent screams become even more frantic, and her body language tells us that she desperately wants to get the attention of the park dwellers.

Eventually a young mother with young boy-child looks in her direction, silently searching for the source of the noise and disruption.  

The young mother has curled hair and is dressed in stay-at-home-mom clothes and is also Sarah Conner.

Just as the two Sarahs recognize each other the nuclear explosion occurs.  

All the mothers and children are instantly incinerated in place.  

Sarah, the warner of danger, catches fire and we watch as she is burned alive.

She wakens with a start......................

It was that sort of sleep in which you wake every hour and think to yourself that you have not been sleeping at all; you can remember dreams that are like reflections, daytime thinking slightly warped.............Kim Stanley Robinson 

All American Diner

When Sean was at Middle Tennessee State University and Chris was at Motlow State Community College, and when I was working in Tullahoma, there were many times when all of our busy schedules somehow managed to align, and on those occasions it gave us the opportunity to take time for long lunches together in the middle of the week.

When I had to get back to work fairly quickly we would pick one of the many restaurants right in town.

When we had more time the boys would pick the restaurant, and the choices they made were indicative of the different personalities and tastes of my boys.

Sean was drawn to trendy sit down restaurants like O Charlies, or Ruby Tuesdays or TGI Fridays.

Chris' taste ran a lot more informally, and it was more than once that we HAD to try a burger that was cooked at some random rural gas station that he had found in his travels.

Invariably they were always close to favorite fishing holes.

Tucked away on some back road outside of town that we reached after driving for 20 minutes on winding country roads.

We would grab our food and sit outside (inevitably on some kind of makeshift wooden picnic table under a tree and next to the parking lot), and we would laugh and talk and scarf down burgers before having to go our separate ways again.

That's as much looking back as I can do and so I will stop.  Now.  Because it hurts...............

After cutting wood one day last week I asked LC to stop at this gas station on the Blackfoot-Aberdeen Highway, so that we could buy an ice cream cone.

We had driven by this place a number of times over the previous weeks.  Always in too much of a hurry to get to where we needed to be or in too much of a hurry to get home.  Always blowing by and always thinking about something else.

On this day we stopped.

It was ridiculously, outrageously sunny and I asked LC to go head inside while I wandered around the outside of the store, slash restaurant, slash gas station, slash convenience store for a few minutes and took some pictures.

For the first time in what seemed like a couple of weeks, I could feel my heart rate slowing.

Even though the day was warm, the snow on the mountains that surrounded me was still there and it was still beautiful.

Everywhere I looked I could see mountains and signs that farmers were gearing up for spring.

Tractors were out.  Men and their trucks were in fields and working on irrigation systems.

Getting ready for the canals that surround this area - getting ready for the time when the water will begin to run.

As hard work as this whole "wood thing" has been, I was also very glad that we had done it.

Because if not, we might not have found our way to this area for a long time.

We wouldn't have found all the wonderful and astoundingly huge farms.  

The cows with babies that are beginning to dot the fields.  

The endless snow covered mountains.  

The numerous public access areas that will take us to water.  Water - it's close.  Closer than we realized, and if we hadn't decided to work our asses off cutting wood we wouldn't have found the back way to the outskirts of Aberdeen and found all the things we found.

Pictures taken while standing in the parking lot of the gas station...................

Turning away from fields and mountains, I smiled at the hokey and dated sign - All American Diner in patriotic red, white and blue.

Wandering behind the restaurant, I continued to see the red, white and blue theme, that was carried along to the car wash...............

As I headed back towards the restaurant I wondered where LC was.

He had headed inside to buy a couple of ice cream cones before we rushed home to unload the truck (that was filled-to-the-brim and up to the top of the home-made sideboards that LC had quickly put together) with wood.

I had expected him to be back outside by now.

Curious what was keeping him I walked inside, smiled when I saw LC, then looked around me, surprised.

As soon as I had walked through the door I had unexpectedly been thrown back into another era.

An era filled with hot rods and Marilyn and Lucy and James and chubby Campbell soup characters.

Posters, tin signs, framed pictures, diner booths and tables, and red checker board tiled floor.

The only thing missing was the jukebox.................

When I walked inside I quickly found LC leaning against a counter and looking closely at one of the many old tin vehicle signs.

He liked this place.  I could tell.  And immediately I liked this place as well.

Realizing just how hungry I was, I looked at the colorful menu items that were taped make-shift to a stand up sign.  

Typical greasy-spoon food, the prices were very good, and my tired Mountain Boy and I decided that instead of eating ice-cream on the run we would instead sit down and eat greasy-spoon food.

It was great.  And there was plenty of it..................

The high school is located right next door, and (not surprisingly) the restaurant is packed during lunch.

Later in the day I looked around me at the few people who were sitting at small tables and at small booths, and who were finishing up their meals, and I saw farm workers - dusty, hard working, already sun burned, farm workers.

I really liked this place................

After wrapping up one small piece of hamburger to take outside for Kory, we headed out to the truck.

45 minutes later we were home, and adding wood to the growing mountain of wood that was sitting in our back yard waiting to be split and stacked.................