Chapter Two: Idaho to Salt Lake

As we left behind our campsite, and my dream of seeing the total eclipse, our route headed for Idaho Falls for the first inexpensive motel we could locate. Depending on how long that took, maybe just the first motel, period. Our rush to arrive and settle in did not prevent some sightseeing, however.

Two things stood out. First, on its journey north out of Wyoming, the Snake River became Palisades Lake, a seeming endless canyonfull of placid, inviting water until it reached - you got it - the Palisades Dam. We drove its entire length northwards, before turning west to head towards our hunt for a motel. The east side was bordered by relatively low mountains, compared to the Tetons, of course. Out of curiosity I looked to our east along the way wondering if the tips of the Tetons rose visibly behind these mountains. I was disappointed by the fact that, from this angle at least, nothing showed. Perhaps they were just too close, or perhaps we'd already angled too far west away from them. Maybe both. I decided to just enjoy the scenery we had.

Second, once we'd turned westward, I looked back to our south. We'd been in sunshine since leaving Wyoming, but there was an unending string of dense clouds including thunderheads strung along the horizon aimed exactly at the area we'd just left. It was confirmation that our local Alpine guy in the sporting goods store knew exactly what he was talking about when he said where the weather front was now and continued to sit.

We'd left early enough that afternoon that the sun was still up but not yet in our eyes as we rolled into Idaho Falls. First stop was McDonalds for supper and information on where in town the motel row was located. As it turned out, the complicated directions which had fled from my mind past the "Go west and..." part within a minute didn't matter, as we rolled up to a cozy little place within about a mile. They'd had a morning cancellation, and we were the first to come along and fill their last room. It would have been a great place had we wanted to stay several days, containing a full kitchenette. Our use, however, didn't justify paying about $20 more than the chain we usually stayed at. At least the shower was a relief after days without, but one had to be very careful. The tiles on the floor were way too smooth to offer any traction when wet, and some previous occupant had ripped the bar out of the wall that would have prevented falls. But ahhh, hot water!

Steve and I slept in as long as we could. We had time to kill with just a short drive to the suburb of Salt Lake City where his brother's family had invited us to stay for a couple days or more, or "as long as we wanted." Our preference was to arrive after lunch on the road, in order not to impose unduly on their hospitality. The original plan had been to head there the morning after the eclipse, taking our time breaking camp and giving those other 12,000 visitors their chance to quit clogging the roads.We know how that turned out.

This time the directions from motel to freeway were both simple and clear. "Turn right, go to the first stoplight (just before where the road is closed for construction) and take another right, then straight for two miles to the ramp."

At stops along the way - food, gas, etc. - I was still a bit short of breath after walking to the back corner of the convenience store where they always place the restrooms, thinking you'll buy more stuff if you see more stuff, and back out to the car. It was a disappointment, but after a short pause to quit panting, we were on our way again.

Steve's brother had given us directions to their house, followed by a suggestion we use Steve's smartphone GPS. Of course the two didn't match, so we chose the route we'd written down. It all worked, and we rolled up to be greeted by one of our nephews, the only one home. We asked him to please bring our clothes bags into the house and down to the basement where we'd be sleeping. We would need to sort through to find our proper stuff and reorganize, dry, and repack after the hasty "help" we'd gotten from the kayakers. Don't mistake that for lack of appreciation, but stuff had gone everywhere in the rush. I hadn't the energy to sort along the way, nor the energy or breath to go up and down the stairs lugging heavy bags of clothing, toiletries, etc.

Our nephew was very willing to help. In fact all three nephews and our niece were helpful. Well, at least I assume the second oldest would have been. Having an all-day job despite being 14, we saw him briefly at the table and heading to bed or out the door.

Here's how they line up. The oldest will be a senior this school year, works at his high school, and has dreams of a career either in medicine or law enforcement. To further his knowledge, he has participated in ride-alongs with both local cops and paramedics on a number of occasions, loving every minute. An adult cousin has taken him to the range to learn safety and practice his target shooting. So far, the only hitch in his plans would be his needing to knuckle down and get his GPA up this final year of high school. Dad frequently reminds him it all depends on May, referring to his status at graduation.

Nephew number two is the one we generally didn't see. He works at a nearby amusement park, the kind with roller coasters and other rides. I'm not sure if he likes the kind of job or the paycheck more, but it seems like a win-win for him.

Nephew number three, who met us at the door, has the role of problem child in the family. There are medical issues behind the acting out, and we have seen both the devilry and the angelic sides of him. He'll start junior high this fall, and we hope his teachers are ready for him, with structure and discipline, as well as the kinds of attention which really bring out the best in him. He can ask a question and actually listen to a lengthy and detailed answer. I used that as my "consequence" when it became my position to help settle him down, telling him I would be happy to have a conversation with him but only while he behaved. Competition with a rival sibling seems to set him off, and I think he relished the one-on-one time. It may not even have mattered what I said. In a busy family of 6, attention without scolding may simply have been the prize.

Our niece (number four) has really grown the most noticeably since our last visit, though still in elementary school. Not only is she dramatically taller, but has left all vestiges of babyhood behind. Right now she is very involved with a craft involving plastic beads arranged on forms and ironed just enough for the beads to stick together in a whole. Steve had two sent home with him. I have something promised via mail. She and #1 both held lengthy conversations with Steve while #3 mostly related to me as the visitors in their lives.

Before getting to the adults, we can't forget the dogs. The mostly outside dog is an elderly golden lab. He's friendly enough to notice we're there, but arthritis seems to be strongly affecting his mobility. Once he's in and knows the situation, with the least effort possible, he finds an out-of-the-way corner to lay down in. (I know how that feels.) The little dog is a shi-tzu mix, her base coat white compared to Ellie's tan, and the silkiest hair I can remember petting. Daisy was very friendly the first couple hours, getting all the petting she could from us. After that, I guess we were boring. Her stops by got shorter and shorter and she spent more time alone or with family. C'est la vie.

My brother- and sister-in law are great people to spend time with. Completely welcoming, despite our sudden change of plans. He had taken the day off work for when we expected to arrive, and seemingly without an eye blink took another one off to accommodate our actual visit. She's a great cook, and when told of our updated arrival, asked Steve simply, "What would you like to eat?" We didn't want to make demands, so she made some suggestions, all of which sounded delicious. And were.

I learned that she's a meal planner, figuring out a month's worth of menus and what's needed for each meal, then goes to the store to buy everything except those things like milk which have to be regularly bought fresh. It's not her favorite task. (Me? I'll look through the food supply, decide what appeals, and if nothing does, go get something that will. The shopping is not my favorite part.)

She knew about my health issues, and did her best to keep me from doing anything to help. Feeling like a useless leach, I did help with table setting and clearing - jobs I can do in almost anybody's kitchen. I felt most useful helping to shuck the ears of corn she'd picked the day before for blanching and freezing. I did have to assure and reassure her that I would actually enjoy the job. Nephew #3 helped,  sitting calmly with us two adults, while the niece carried bowls of ears out to Daddy in the back yard for blanching, as well as ice for cooling, then brought corn back in for her Mom to package for freezing. I'm not sure if #3 mostly liked the grownup acceptance, or the thrill of finding the two worms munching in a couple of the ears. He got to look but not squish.

One of the things I like best about this family is that as a family they work. By that I mean, even with some health and behavioral issues, as a unit they function well. It may not surprise you that, living next to Salt Lake City, they are Mormons. This is not the kind of faith that simply takes them to church for weekend lip service, or enables them to show the world how much holier than thou they are. This is who they are, how they live. If that's not us, Steve and I, not only is there no inquiry into our beliefs, there is no attempt to push theirs. We are simply family. Grace is said, alternating among family members, and not a quickie formula but a sincere prayer for thanks and well wishes for those they know. Coffee and alcohol are not present, though nothing is said when I fix my own cup of morning instant mocha. Volunteering at the church is part of life, and going on mission when the children are grown is assumed. TV programs are monitored, as is computer surfing with parental blocks. Swearing doesn't happen, or is apologized for if inadvertant. (Nobody's ignorant: they know what the words are and mean, just choose to avoid them.)

Being there is being family. The warmth is real. So is the welcome.

Hearing that I had never actually seen the Great Salt Lake, we were taken out for a tour. It included this-is-what-they-look-like-now drive-bys of places Steve used to live or know, even a stop where we rode to the top floor of a building  overlooking the Temple and saw all the groups lined up for their weddings. We drove through the airport roads to see where Steve's brother worked when he wasn't being sent out of town/state, seeing the huge cranes constructing the expansion. It was noted that the pilings for support had to be pounded 70 feet into the ground for proper support, since there was a deep thick layer of sand under the ground down to bedrock.

Heading further south, a pair of mountains were pointed out to me. When I acknowledged the right ones, I was informed that each was an island in the lake. The scale of it suddenly came clear.

On this particular outing, the men were in front, we women in the middle, and the two youngest, who were not working, in the back. Not only did I appreciate the conversation we two were having in semi privacy, it aided in another thing. It seems our driver is, by my standards, a tailgater, even in freeway traffic. I could not, could not watch the driving! I just crossed my mental fingers, hoping we'd all arrive back at the house safely.

Which we did.