Life–the Great Adventure

One of the comments we hear frequently at the Division of Tourism is “I had no idea Idaho had all this!”  For them, just coming to Idaho was an adventure (defined by Wikipedia as “an exciting or unusual experience.”)  Idaho is an adventure whether you’ve lived here all your life, or if you’re new to the state.  Our mini-bloggers this week describe their Idaho adventures, one intentional, the second an unplanned occurance, and the third–well you read it.  But all three writers speak of broadening their lives and minds and prove that adventures can be found everywhere, if you will open yourself to the possibility of discovering the unexpected. 


I’m afraid of pain and water.  So when my friends decided after two good rolls in the YMCA pool I could kayak the Salmon River – I was both overjoyed and terrified.

 I got the message early on I was over my head–I entered the first rapid upside down. When I did roll, I popped up backwards. It was a sign.

 I spent my days being swept into the jaws of liquid death. I spent sleepless nights worrying what lay ahead.  More often than not, it was the devil.

 I have seen the Salmon River unlike few others–upside down.  At the takeout, I fell onto the beach and took a long draw from a warm Pabst Blue Ribbon.

 A splendid adventure!

  Jeff Stratten


The sun warmed our backs as we trekked up the mountain, through a maze of towering pine trees, tripping across streams and picking bitter-tasting huckleberries.  It was early August in McCall, Idaho, and our destination was the majestic Crystal Lake.  After hiking a few miles, there was no longer one clear path, but many trails winding through the wilderness.   We came to the frightening realization of being lost.  After walking in circles and losing all hope, we reached a mountaintop and gazed below.  There, by some miraculous turn of fate, lay the pristine Crystal Lake. 

That day is a reminder of the wonder of Idaho, a place where an everyday hike can become a great adventure.   

Heidi Cook


The uniqueness of Idaho is found in the ordinary pleasure of an after work walk through Kathryn Albertsons Park. I begin each step with giddiness and digital camera in tow.  What will I encounter? Another blue heron eating a snake? The tiny head of a gosling peeking out from his mother’s wing? Perhaps another chance meeting with the young mink that frolicked at my feet while I photographed a water lily? The flowers, the smells, and the sounds calm me.  And then, my favorite, the ordinary mallard duck paddling across the water and in its wake, intricate patterns of color that change with the season.  I experience the uniqueness of Idaho in the simplicity of a city park. 

  Dana Grigg