A Thunderbird Convertible By Max Jenkins On a pleasant evening in Grangeville in July 1955, I came home early from work and was helping Mom set the table when Dad pulled into the driveway. He’d been honking halfway
By James J. Pizzadili The old cowboy stood along U.S. 95 with his thumb out. He was dressed in clean ostrich-skin cowboy boots, jeans, brown leather jacket, and a large Stetson. He looked a bit weathered and worn,
One of my first of many business trips to Idaho came just after a huge storm hit the Burley and Rupert area in the early 1980s, extending all the way to Twin Falls. I found it remarkable that I-84 wasn’t plowed, because the state government didn’t have the money to plow it. The interstate was lined with thousands of pheasants, which had come to the edge of the pavement and for some reason had simply died. Continue reading
It is winter and we are traveling, once again, from McCall to Boise for my piano lesson. The canyon road is recently plowed and only a few inches of snow cover the pavement. Snow is piled high on the mountain’s side of the narrow road. Continue reading
OVER THE YEARS at IDAHO magazine, we have been privy to a number of harrowing and sometimes funny tales of driving Highway 95’s old White Bird grade between the towns of White Bird and Grangeville, before the modern highway was completed in 1975. For example, our copy editor and regular contributor Les Tanner wrote a three-part series about his travels on “old 95” (August 2009, September 2009, and April 2011), which included plenty of tales about the dangers of the route. And Nancy Sule Hammon wrote a rollicking account (March 2009) of her first experience with driving the frightening grade at night in 1971. Continue reading
