|Whitebird Idaho, site of the battle of Whitebird Canyon (Chief Joseph) 1877|
On Sunday, i joined a convoy of Thanksgiving Weekend pilgrimage-ers and meandered and weaved our way like a needles through the quilt of Idaho mountains and farmland and countrysides. For us it seemed like a lot of traffic, but it was probably sparse compared to most places.
I hooked a ride over the internet from a kid i'd never met before. It's chancey; it's a pretty long drive so if you end up with a dud, it could be a miserable 5-6 hours.
My ride was a scrawny, pale, protestant-meets-punk-looking dude from Star, Idaho which is a rural, conservative farm town not known for it's surfeit of scholars and worldly thinkers. He sported a Yankee ball cap and a rudraksha bead bracelet; I didn't really know what to expect.
It turns out he's a sociology major looking into a job in disability advocacy. He works at a women's center.(!) He was a fantastic conversationalist. We had great time shooting the shit about everything from politics, family dynamics, psychedelics, music, the Apolcalypse, beer, literature, vans, pets, religion, post-college plans and hunting.
We were treated to an awesome sunset that seemed to go on and on. Some low-hanging clouds looked close enough if only i could Go-Go-Gadget Gumby my arm out the window and snag a clump of spun sugar right out of the cotton candy-pickin' sky.