Arco...

Hwy. 20, a black asphalt ribbon laid out east west thru the middle of the state of Idaho. High sagebrush desert with the ridge of the Sawtooths to our left. Surreal flow of black jagged rock as we drive along the north edge of Craters of the Moon. I learn at the visitors center that the entire flat plain that bisects central Idaho in a crescent from Boise to Idaho Falls was formed by a series of volcanic caulders beginning in the west 14 million years ago and ending in recent geological time in the active Yellowstone region. A convenient pathway for the I-84 byway and due to erupt at any time now!

At the moment, Sarah is driving so I can type. We are east out of Arco with open plain, the horizon dotted by isolated buttes and cones and complexes of odd shaped buildings surrounded by fences and signage proclaiming “Restricted Area. Property of the US Dept. of Energy”---EBR1. The first atomic energy reactor in the country.

Lunch in Arco. ”The First City Powered by Atomic Energy” is proudly, if not somewhat peeling, stenciled on the front of town hall. We stop at Pickles in the shadow of Numbers Mountain, as identified by the sign in the little park, where high school kids thru the decades brave the heights and vertical cliff to paint their graduation year. Two semis, 10 Harleys, and four pickups with either a dog or a hay bale in the back are parked along side the bright green diner. A 9 ft. green rocking chair sits patiently by the front door awaiting a photo op. The bikers, who I slowed down for 20 miles back so they could rumble past, are gathered around a long table near the front. Still wearing leather chaps they look more like members of the Lion’s Club than a motorcycle gang. Sarah and I decline the Atomic Burger and both get the daily special of hot meat loaf sandwich served on white bread with mashed potatoes drowned in brown gravy. And, yes, a pickle. One came with the salad too!

Herman the wonder dog is proving to be a perfect road companion. He quietly sleeps in the back seat shedding on fleece jackets and knitting projects or rides high perched on his plastic box of toys and blankets staring at the scenery or flirting with the flagger at the road construction site. At rest areas or pull outs in the desert he eagerly bounds out to sniff his environment and pee on anything as if to say, “Herman was here!!”. At last nights motel altho we did pay the $4.32 dog fee and he was able to actually jump up onto the bed, we made him sleep on his cushion on the floor. Up only once for a couple of halfhearted warning “woofs” when people walked past our motel door.