I also went by my second powerline crew of the day working on the walls of the canyon. I passed several trucks with ATV trailers on my way to my wisp of a road. Jarbidge self promotes as the “Off Road Capitol of America” and this wisp of dirt is its king. It is a road that is somewhat a legend for how steep, unkempt, and stupid it is to drive. I wanted to descend into the town of Jarbidge, quite possibly the most remote settlement in the lower 48, via a road that goes down the canyon wall right into town. Since this is a trip of adventure and challenge I decided to climb the canyon opposite Murphy and head up the mountain. Should have stopped for a dip and a lunch… next time.
I got word that the Mexican food there is to die for. The resort was built by a gentleman named Patrick Murphy who renamed Kittie’s Hot Hole to “Murphy Hot Springs” (boring). Today the town is rustic resort where locals gather to vacation in the summer. A glimpse up river as I cross the bridge in Murphy Hot Springs I found out about this after I passed through town, otherwise I would have taken a dip in Kittie’s Hot Hole just to say I did. The pool became known as “Kittie’s Hot Hole”. Kittie made a pool for the spring to fill out of rocks so that the ranch hands and locals could rest their weary bones. She was widely regarded as the “Horse Queen of Idaho.
She became world famous for her horse breeding and traded her horses around the planet. The spring was known to local tribes prior to the white man, but the first recorded owner of the spring was Kittie Wilkins who was a well educated woman from Walla Walla, WA. Crews working on the powerlines above Fast Fork of the Jarbidge River before reaching Murphy Hot Springs.Īfter maybe 60 miles of such roads I finally begin to dip into the canyon where the “resort” town of Murphy Hot Springs, ID resides. They are faster than my ability to turn my phone into a camera and snap a worthwhile photo. The little dots are A-10s making bombing runs. Ironically I passed a sign that read, “Only you can prevent wild fires,” while bombers dropped 25lb incendiaries on dry grass around me… It wouldn’t be an adventure in the desert if my modern technology wasn’t a tool of natural selection changing the evolutionary outcomes of the previous few million years one Stupid Little Bird at a time.Īir Force A-10s were making bombing runs around me during my drive. My estimate is that one in 25 of these SLBs finds itself under my carriage. Their goal is to draw me after them and away from their nests. The road is lined by two things: beautiful little sunflowers, and Stupid Little Birds (SLBs) who like to jump out in front of my truck as if I am a preditor seeking their eggs. Really? Things fall from planes on a bombing range? I pass the captain obvious sign for the Saylor Creek Bombing Range I am about to traverse. This road is an eternity in a long straight line. I then drive down the long, flat, hot Three Creek Rd south of Bruneau, ID. I stop at a hardware store and obtain a new water jug and fill it at a Shell Station while I grab some fuel. No Leslie Gulch, and no ghost towns of Silver City, and DeLorme, ID in the Owyhee Mountains. I am hundreds of miles behind schedule and missed out on three desired stops yesterday. Not too much time available to spend staring at such blocks of rock, I have to make up for all the progress I lost by being stuck in the middle of nowhere.
The rare chemical properties of these oolites support five endemic plant species and are pretty rad to look at up close. The Oolites are bits of limestone formed from tiny sealife particles which settled on the lake bottom. I had bedded down for the night next to the Shoofly Oolites in southern Idaho, because, well, what an awesome name! These chunks of rocks are the limestone remnants of a giant fresh water lake that extended across the valley of what is now pretty much the bulk of Idaho about 11-13 million years ago. Stay with me, this is a long one, but a good read. Day 3, August 26th, Today became a big day where a lot happened.
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