Stories, images and videos of small adventure trips in and around the state of Idaho
School has only been out a day and already “I’m bored” complaints are buzzing around the house like flies. Happily, we’re close to the river and foothills so we can always hop on our bikes or set out on foot from home for a bit of perspective.
We head out from home on foot to survey flooding that, like our winter snow, is the highest in many years.
Brenna, Jessica and I spend a sunny spring afternoon bicycling Boise’s Greenbelt along the river through six parks with a pitstop at Joe’s Crabshack to grease the wheels.
I spent an afternoon planning a winter 2016 motorcycle loop but thought better of it as I noticed the mud I’ve been pedaling through to work. So I made a word salad about mud.
Jessica is out of town. You know what that calls for! Camping. Since she’ll have the Jeep, we’ll make due with campground camping we can reach with the baby hippo car. I’ve always liked the look of a few spots above Arrowrock Reservoir so we set our heading accordingly. Engage!
The last two days of 2014 are dusted with snow and colored with sun, a dichotomy I’m glad to indulge with several stops while biking to and from my office downtown. May the new year be so beautiful.
Winter came a month early. I enjoy the blanket of sparkling white and added challenge of biking a slippery path. It sure would have been great to rake the leaves up first, though. Oh well. The fiery fog and glowing hoar frost are beautiful just the same.
We must make the most of our favorite season, walks and rides, fast and furious, before the last leaf falls. We park in Bown Crossing near Brenna’s school for an evening walk along the river before sitting to dinner and perhaps a treat.
The sharp morning light of a week ago is today muted by mist rolling off the cold water along my bicycle commute to work. Lucky for me, this common autumn scene never fails to delight and I’m glad for the chance to meander.
Political outcomes won’t change it: things that brought joy yesterday are those which bring joy today — full suspension bunny-hop from asphalt to dirt, glittering leaves and deep breaths of cold air.
She was so excited by the prospect of a simple walk by the river, how could I say no. So after days of intermittent rain, Brenna and I spend two hours walking the familiar paths near home.
Feeling cooped up on a cold weekend while Jessica is away, I suggest a walk along the river. The inversion is finally gone. It should be nice.
Bike lanes clear of snow enable me to resume the ride to work and a more portable camera permits a few images of the dense fog we’ve experienced this week in Idaho’s Treasure Valley.
If I get a snow day then Brenna does too. Roads too slippery for commuting give us a day to see the neighborhood recast in white.
I ride my bicycle through heavy fog along the Boise River towards an uncertain future in a somewhat obvious metaphor.
I ride alongside river mist made molten by winter’s morning sun past sites once famous, the destination for thousands, now almost forgotten.
Another day of work, another day to ride. I stop in the place I often do along the river bank where it’s just me, leaves and water, and memories of summer revelers lining up to swing from a frayed rope into the river.
The morning provides a proper coronation at the usual spot while a jester in the guise of a fox watches from the bushes. What does the fox say?
Another in a series of impressive sunrises compels me to pause on my way to work and watch the interplay of billowing fog and beams of light.
It is that special time of year when temperatures drop to single digits and mist rises from the frigid river into golden morning light. I don’t want to lose my warmth but I’m compelled to pause and admire the ice and light.
It isn’t often that ice forms on the river through Boise so I stop a few times on my way to work for a better look.