Forever Paisley

This Tofurkey day it was off to Boise to kick-off the holiday binge with my one and only. Consuming an unnecessary amount of calories was on the agenda, but before diving in, a hike was in order. We jumped in the subie and off we went. As we wove our way through the mountains, it became apparent that Idaho was home to a plethora of private land and bow hunters. To our surprise, a trail head there was not.

After ninety minutes in the car we gave up, pulled over, and decided to make our own path along the river. Here, in this random parking lot we stumbled a stout, middle-aged woman who was out walking her dog. As the canine darted towards us we exchanged hellos.

“Who are you here to visit?” she asked. Apparently, everyone on this twisty, hidden road knew each other. Go figure.

“No one, we’re just looking for a hike.”

“Well if you …” she paused as she glanced towards our feet to find one dirty pair of sneakers and hiking boots. “Oh you’re looking for a real hike.” While fake hiking must be growing in popularity, she was right, we were in search of the real deal.

She pondered for a moment, pointed sporadically to nearby landmarks, and eventually came up with a few recommendations. We ran with it. Per her advice we drove back towards Boise for “about 4.8 or 4.9 miles”, pulled over to the right and parked our vehicle in front of a red cattle gate. Not quite the hiking experience we were used to, but sure. There we followed a gravel road for about 1.5 miles, passing bow hunter after bow hunter. I suspect they were out trying to catch their holiday dinner, but none of them appeared to be successful. I’m just thankful that I didn’t end up with an arrow in my ass. Just past another cattle gate draped with abandoned clothing, we found the pinnacle. A boulder with a view of Boise. There we sat. There we soaked.

We made it back to town just in time to pick up our feast from our chosen caterer, Whole Foods Market. Cribbage, wine, thanks and giving followed.

Gobble, gobble.

Cherrettie