GNAST: Day Nine

Starting: West Yellowstone, MT
Destination: Twin Falls, ID
Distance: I wasn't paying attention.

We weren't awake, broken down, packed up, and into Yellowstone by like, 7 this morning, so the detour up to where we were told big game awaited didn't happen. Instead, we spent the absolutely beautiful Montana morning up at Lake Hebgen and Earthquake Lake... which might have been the better choice.

It wasn't the kind of side-trip full of selfies and smiles. It was very, very sober. It's a mass grave. It's hard to be perky. But it's mesmerizing and awe-inspiring, and contemplating how multiple six-million-ton boulders moved half a mile in 20 seconds is unfathomable. We climbed up to the boulders and took the rocky trail down the landslide area to the visitors center (and got a stamp, whoo). We saw a few pikas, which are still adorable. But mostly, the wind was chilly and the sun warm, and the magnitude of the geology was just mind-blowing. Everyone needs to go up there. NPS has done an absolutely terrific job on the auto-tour with informative pullouts and there's an actual seismograph in the VC. And the views into the Madison River valley are phenomenal.

It was Saturday morning, so we had to fight Yellowstone traffic to go bum the WYVC wifi again and get gas, but then we were off into Idaho.

I will be happy to leave Idaho.

Really, all that needs to be said is that it combines the worst of Kansas and Wyoming in terms of long, boring, crop-filled straightaways that are also full of massive plains storms and OH HEY TWO FUCKING TORNADOES. I may not sleep tonight. It's 1am Eastern time and I'm contemplating making an MRE. We saw the one by Idaho Falls and Rexburg (we did stop and see the Temple at Rexburg), although I lied to myself about it and didn't fully acknowledge it until getting confirmation later. We dodged big storms all the way to the EBR-1 Site. Which was eerie--the wind was whistling as we walked in--and AWESOME in a nerdy way. It's an old nuclear reactor site, using atomic power for electricity, and completely cleaned up so you can run around AND YOU CAN PUSH THE EMERGENCY SHUT DOWN BUTTON. Also, you may catch a paranoid old man asking the bemused employee "is it true there's a nuclear submarine down in the aquifer?"

Oh, and the outlying cabin is apparently "potentially contaminated with hantavirus" while also covered in former radiation signs WHAT THE SHIT IDAHO DOES THE CDC KNOW ABOUT THIS?!

Seriously, this is exactly how the zombie apocalypse will start: old nuclear site + virus.

Anyway, we then scurried on to Craters of the Moon.

Which was not to be, because when we got out of the car at the scenic overlook, the wind was blowing steadily at 30-40mph and a storm broiled over the plains. By the time that we got to the VC for our stamp and to talk to the kind people there, we were watching lightning bolts behind the volcano cones. It was pretty epic--but also, and the kind employees agreed--it was NOT camping weather... anywhere in south Idaho. In fact, they said, one couple had been camping there the night before and their tent had nearly rolled over with them in it. They checked the weather for us, promised that Idaho was never like this, and recommended that A, we sleep inside, and B, we head down to Twin Falls, since it seemed less... meteorologically volatile.

As we sat in the car discussing our options, every time we thought about getting out and braving the distant storm, more lightning would hit, until Aaron saw what he describes as an afterimage of the bolt preceding the actual bolt. Hard pass, back in the car, straight shot to Twin Falls and a legit building.

This was further emphasized when the massive storm that we had been watching all along developed so much that, about 15 miles northeast of Jerome, a condensation funnel (i.e. tornado) began to coalesce in a wheat field out Aaron's window, heading northeast and then we REALLY booked it straight south. Neither of us panicked. But we did sit in Starbucks for an hour taking deep breaths.

Two. Two tornadoes in Idaho. And every single person we've talked to, either at the Twin Falls Temple asking for advice or at a NPS site or checking into a hotel (you're damn straight we're in a hotel tonight), has sworn up and down "this never happens!"

LIES. YOU ALL LIVE IN A STATE OF LIES. (And potential zombies.)

Tomorrow we may hit up Boise? To see a friend and returned missionary? Hopefully we can hit Hagerman Fossils, the Japanese internment camp, and City of Rocks and actually, you know, get out of the car and do something before making our way to Salt Lake City and then flying back to Charleston, where it may be stormy, but it won't, you know, actively try to kill us.

We're getting a little tired and a little ready to come home.

Or go back to sunny Montana, whatever, not picky. (Apparently Colorado is sunny now too? Hmm.)