Today began a six day adventure as Artist-in-Residence for the BLM (Bureau of Land Management), focusing on the Owyhee Canyonlands Wilderness Areas.

I headed south this morning, driving to Boise via Hwy 95 and 55, through some truly spectacular country. My 7 hour drive (plus an extra hour for the time zone change) was even longer after the handful of stops I was compelled to make. First was the Lewiston grade, a steep descent from the Palouse to the valley of the confluence of the Snake and Salmon rivers. There is a lovely little pullout that affords a great view of the town, and the mouth of Hell's Canyon to the south.

South and east of Lewiston, on the Camas Prairie, is a very small little town called Craigmont. When I moved to Coeur d'Alene in 2000, my grandmother was excited, saying that she always thought CdA was just about the most beautiful place there is. She also told me stories I had not heard before, about some years in her childhood spent living in Idaho while her mother was a school teacher on the Nez Perce reservation. They lived outside of Craigmont, and her grandparents and an uncle moved out with them, staying on after my grandmother's family moved away. All three of them are buried in the Craigmont Cemetery, and as I approached the town I decided to find the cemetery again and stop in for a visit. Finding the cemetery is not hard, the road is eponymous and there is a tall stand of Ponderosas standing guard, easy to see from a distance. Harder was finding the actual graves. I've visited before, but needed the map, which was printed oddly: half of the sites were labeled in reverse, but not all. It took a very long time, but I found them. I had the company of an owl who flew between the trees. This small cemetery is impeccably cared for, it's just lovely.

Onwards from Craigmont, roughly following the Salmon River to Riggins (stunning), then on to McCall, and eventually Horseshoe Bend before dropping into Boise. It was dark as I arrived, filled up on fuel, and found my way to the house of one of the BLM wilderness rangers whose family I was staying with for the night.

The Salmon and Snake Rivers at Lewiston, ID.

Zooming in on the mouth of Hell's Canyon.

Approaching Craigmont Cemetery.

Craigmont Cemetery.

My grandmother's grandparents. Tom came over from Ireland and worked as a cowboy in Colorado. Kunie came from Germany, she was the playmate for a wealthy child whose family decided to immigrate. Kunie left home at 9 years old and never saw her family again.

My grandma's uncle Joe.

Salmon River Canyon.

Closeup looking south along the Salmon River canyon.

Following the Salmon, the River of No Return.

Past Horseshoe Bend, the last stretch of hills and mountains before Boise.

My flight was set to depart at 8:42am, so at 7:15 Tyler grabbed a park vehicle and we drove my luggage the few blocks to the Alaska Airlines hangar. After dropping them off, we went back home to wait until boarding time. The hangar can seat maybe a dozen people, and from what I can tell it's only the out-of-towners that actually spend any time waiting in the airport. At about 8am we went back. There's no waiting, you put your things on the TSA scanner and go through the checkpoint immediately before stepping outside onto the tarmac to board your flight. Then you sit and wait on the plane until departure.

It was a beautiful flight from take off in Kotzebue to landing in Anchorage. There were clouds, but I had an even better view of Denali this time, and we were much closer. From Anchorage to Portland was amazingly gorgeous. I wish the plane had one of those real-time maps to show where you are. I think I figured it out, finding unique islands and landforms to check on google maps. The fjords and ice floes were incredible. I would love the chance to explore those areas much closer, though I know I likely already saw some of the best views. Portland to Spokane was relatively smooth, and the complimentary wine and beer that Alaska Air serves on these short flights were very appreciated after a long day in the air.

After landing I went to claim my luggage, and what a surreal experience that was. As I walked up to the baggage claim area it was completely deserted. I saw that the first carousel was for my flight, and just then it started moving and two bags came out: both mine. There were no other bags, no other people. I managed to load up my many bags in a way that I could waddle my way outside to the curb to wait for my family, and just then I saw them pulling into the parking area across the road. I made my way across the lanes to them, there were hugs, and then we loaded up and headed home. It's strange, yet comforting, to be back to familiar life so abruptly after a residency.

The airport in Kotzebue, that's my plane behind the hangar. The left half of this building is cargo storage, us lowly humans use the small space at the right.