Day 13: Halfway, OR to Cambridge (Idaho) Highway Aliens: Be Afraid. Be Very Afraid.

Just like gasoline is necessary to run your automobile, mass amounts of food are the fuel for touring cyclists, and pancakes are my favorite high-octane choice. They are cheap, tasty, and seem to be found on breakfast menus far and wide. They are exceedingly difficult to screw up as well. In fact, I’ve never run up against a pancake I found not worthy of consumption.

[Above: The first wave of cakes arrives.]

Wheeling out of Halfway, I stopped at the local market to reload my snack sack and grab a couple 32 oz. Gatorades for that all-important thirst insurance. I always enjoy stopping at the market in small towns because they seem to reveal much of the town’s character.

While in the market, I met up with a couple of rowdy young cowboys saddled up in mom’s shopping cart and unloading groceries quicker than she put them in – they seemed to be making a sport of grocery tossing and were one can of chicken noodle soup short of victory. I chatted with mom as she futilely counseled her young cowboys to chill out. She introduced me to her 3-year old twins, Trace and Cooper, (coincidentally, my son’s name is Cooper) who, were dressed to the nines in cowboy outfits . As I had already guessed, they wanted to be cowboys - just like their daddy. We had a nice visit about living in a small town and about my ride. On the way out of the market I introduced the young wranglers to my bike, Elvis, and they thought he was super cool.

[Above: Another stop on my way out of town, the Halfway Boutique.]

The ride out of Halfway was beautiful, lots of ranches, green grass, and fresh mountain air. I felt peaceful here, a great place to hang your hat, no doubt.

[Above: These young horses spotted me from the barn and arrived in a full gallop to greet me. Strangely, they turned away as quickly as they arrived, bucking wildly as they returned to the barn. Is it something I said, or more likely, my malodorous smell that they found offensive?]

[Above: A pleasant roadside respite.]

[Above: Winding my way along.]

I pressed onward despite an annoying 'two club headwind’, which is golf-speak for a 15-20 mph breeze. Eventually, I met up with the Snake River, which separates Oregon from Idaho. It was truly bitter sweet leaving Oregon. I can’t say enough good things about the cycling-friendly state of Oregon and their extra-courteous drivers and friendly highway shoulders, but it was time that I moved along. Goodbye Oregon, and hello Idaho – only 9 more states to go!

[Above: The Snake River, Evel Kneivel’s nemesis.]

[Above: A sign of progress.]

I’m always saddened with someone losing their life prematurely while on the road, yet I’m also consoled by the obvious love and respect that endures. This monument obviously reflects a great love lost. I usually stop and pay my respects, and when appropriate, leave a trinket as a token of that respect. In this case, I left a cinnamon flavored Jolly Rancher, my favorite candy while cycling.

[Above: While the road may end, the journey continues. Rest in peace my friend.]

While enjoying a high speed descent, I came upon a bizarre sight which I quickly assumed were baby jumping frogs crossing the road and heading towards the river. I had never seen such a strange spectacle – there were literally thousands of these jumping alien life forms, all concentrated in a 100 yard section of the highway. I stopped for further investigation, and it was a heinous sight indeed.

[Above: The Highway Aliens – be afraid, be very afraid.]

After observing the living creatures devouring their dead roadway comrades - cannibal style, I hastily snapped a couple photos and left the creepy scene behind me. I didn’t have a clue of what these nasty critters were and didn’t want to stick around to be eaten myself.

[Above: Dead creatures littering the road, soon to be devoured by the survivors.]

I arrived at the outskirts of Cambridge, Idaho, as dusk fast approached, still feeling creeped out by the alien experience. As a welcome change, though, I enjoyed the sweeping views of well kept ranches and fertile farmland.