Buffalo Campground (Near Rexburg)

I left Yellowpine around 7am and soon passed through Ontario, Oregon into Idaho without incident. As I turned on to highway 80 and its 75 mph speed limit, I realized how easy I had been taking it on my car for the last few days. The speed limit was 55 mph for much of the drive from the coast to Idaho and I stuck to it.My gas mil,eage had improved by almost 4 mpg. I also realized that I was taking it easy on myself. I was not putting pressure on myself to make it to certain places or see certain people. I just drove until it felt right to stop, explored what I could, got a good night sleep and "got up to do it again, amen." (Jackson Browne). Actually, that song came on the radio at one point and I thought the lyrics "caught between the longing for love and the search for the legal tender" apropo. I passed through Boise, stopping only for gas. I have some preconceived negative connotations I associatge with Boise and they were satisfied as I drove by. The landscape is similar in ugliness to Klamath Falls (both potato country), and from what I can gather there are very diverse groups fighting bitterly to control the small-town political issues of this largest of Idaho's cities with a population under 200,000. One final negative connotation is that while the rest of the country drives around with the Stars and Stripes flying from their vehicles (a practice I think is over doing it), I saw more confederate flags waving from vheicles in the Boise area than American flags. I got off the fast paced interstate as soon as I could and headed bortheast on highway 26. It was a two-lane highway with a speed limit of 65 mph passing through various small towns and landscape. I had been driving in cool but sunny weather for the last couple of days, but up ahead I saw signs of change with thunderstorm clouds moving in from the south. I arrived at the Buffalo campground around 6pm and found a nice spot literally right on the bank of a placid river. The sites were large with nice barriers. I set up camp, then went exploring on my bike. After riding through all the camp spots checking out the pine forest lining the river, I crossed the highway to the day use area where I found a dam and a lake. It was all very peaceful and serene and I enjoyed every minute of it. Back at camp I donned my trunks and took a short dip in the river right from my campsite (all this for only $10). I tried on cast with my trusty peppermint spoon and lost it on a rock. Then the mosquitoes showed up. I had not had any trouble with them since Fort Canby, but they showed up iun force. I had to go so far as to put on socks and shoes in addition to my usual protection of long sleeve shirt, hat and long pants. Still, it was not enough. I retreated to my tent to type up my journal. I unzipped the window to get some air and the screens were immediately covered with the irritating bugs. I worked on my pages for an hour or so to the sounds of a girl scout troop singing campfire songs in the group camp a ways down the river, I decided to take a break and start the fire when to my amazement, the mosquitos had disappeared, Not a single one was around after sunset. I was flabbergasted. Later, the proverbial loudmouth showed up across the way. Although he was well out of my 100 foot buffer zone, the sound of his "drunken chatter" grated on my ear drums like fingernails on a chalkboard. I was less than 35 miles from Yellowstone park. I planned to beat the rush by getting up early, make a cursory tour of the sights, then find a plcae to camp. Its like M from SC says, "If you want to make God laugh, make some plans."

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