The past weekend was awesome. Although we had to amend our plans so I could return to grade papers, Lauren and I got to spend some time up at her dad's cabin in Crouch, Idaho. The name itself, Crouch, doesn't sound too appealing. In fact it makes me think of "Squat", or "Squatters"- people who illegally reside in a disheveled home. The town couldn't be more of an opposite... beautiful split-level cabins owned by ranchers and retired city folk, a slow laid-back pace and an economy that relies on local river-guide companies and ranching. Sure, it still has a small percentage of "squatters" just like any town; in fact, my father called it home for more than a year! But overall it's a quiet Idaho town.
We left Saturday evening, about six p.m., in Lauren's little red truck. After stopping at the store for some necessities (see: candybars and wine coolers) we floored it over the summit into Horseshoe Bend. I had been sort of anxious that evening; grumpy about my job of grading papers and antsy from not exercising at all over the past week: I was in serious need of a getaway. We passed through HB and continued up the road into Banks, then headed east towards Crouch. Maybe it was the weather, maybe it was the temporary sugar-high we were fetching from the NutRoll candybar, but we decided to pull over and hop in the river. "Hop", as in dive head-first into an ice cold eddy near some rocks. It was so exhilarating, such a shock to the system, so liberating. I left any and all anxieties in the river.
By the time we got back in the truck and got up to the cabin, the light was abating and the temperature dropping; the day conceding defeat to the relentlessly impending darkness. We opted not to go for a hike as previously planned but instead sat on the porch listening to the invisible critters around us. We played our part in the food chain by flipping on the porch light... hordes of insect victims flew from the forest to the lightsource only to be intercepted by bats on the way. We grew tired of feeding the creatures and went up to the loft to bed down for the evening. Between the Dave Sedaris satire I read to Lauren and the sub-forty temperatures outside, we both started to nod off comfortably snuggled down into the thick cotton blankets. I actually slept in a separate bed: less firm, unfortunately, but I was able to stretch out without vying for space and covers against Lauren and her dog, McKinley.
At six a.m. I awoke to Elk cries down in the valley. There is an Elk ranch that raises them for meat and "Elk Antler Velvet Capsules", supposed to be an 'exceptional blood tonic and all-around supplement' (see: snake oil). Elk sound so primitive: you could sware that the piercing screams are coming from some mammoth just beyond sight. The cold night also brought rain to the valley, and it was still raining when Lauren and I left the cabin for an early morning hike.
We drove back down towards Banks a few miles and parked beside the road. Skinny-Dipper Hot Springs lye in wait just a mile or so up a hillside trail, and we set out with conviction up the slippery slope. It was still raining, and by the time we got to the pools we were both soaked and cold: a perfect prep for a dip in a natural hot bath. The water temperature was perfect, hot but not too hot to completely submerge myself and sit on the sandy bottom of the pool. The moment was sublime: clouds rolling up the mountainside around us, fat rain-drops plopping on the surface of the water, the steam swirling up off the pool then joining the passing mist. Lauren is beautiful, I see it more everyday, but especially in moments like these. Her beauty is amplified by raw nature. So far away from the sounds and influences of the busy city, she was illuminated.
That was the highlight of the entire trip, the highlight of my entire month. We made it back to Boise that afternoon: I went down to the U to grade and she returned to the cabin, picking up her father en route. The alone time was actually great to reflect on the magnitude of the experience and its affect on my soul.
It's Tuesday now and I'm back in the grind of school and work. Of course, how much of a grind could it really be if I am able to take such an interval to write these silly details? Life is, wow.
