A Blog of Photography.
July 27th 2023
San Francisco to Twin Falls, Idaho. Got a speeding ticket in Truckee. Ate burgers at Beefy’s in Reno, Nevada. Drove to Winnemucca, through Winnemucca. Lovelock was empty. Twin Falls is an odd stop. We each had four slices of Dominoes pizza we purchased with a coupon and fell asleep at 1am.
July 28th 2023
We woke up to the idea of a continental breakfast provided for free by Motel 6. Powder eggs heated into slightly puffy pucks, sausages that were previously wading in their own juices in a ziplock bag under a metal lid in a metal can filled with hot water to keep them “fresh”, Sausage gravy over day-old biscuits. Salt and pepper made them tolerable. On our way back on the road, after circling around the town of Idaho Falls for a cup of half decent coffee, we settled on the classic Starbucks route but me. On our way out of town we passed over this canyon with a body of water at the bottom, we stopped thinking we could get to the bottom. We made our way down this dusty dirty little path, surrounded by cobblestones, the chainlink fence that read “DO NOT ENTER DANGER!” was riddled with locks for love promises. As the three of us, Saul, Daylon and I were overlooking the beyond, massive canyon, more people rushed down, a man said that three guys were getting ready to base jump to the bottom. 200 yards out or so, from the side of the freeway, over a rail, one by one, a man would get ready to jump and then off he’d push. One, two, three, seconds in the air, then the parachute would deploy and he would try and land on what seemed to be a tiny target out in the distance at the bottom of the canyon. Daylon thought we ought to get a photo of one of the guys from above as they jump, we ran up the stairs, down the walkway and before we were even close, the last guy jumped. Back in the car we went and after many stops to cornfields, a river we couldn’t swim in and a small very Chrisitian like town, we ended up in Jackson, Wyoming. It was thick with tourists being a hot weekend in the middle of summer. Food was the only thing on our minds and the collective decision was Mexican food. We ordered plates, Daylon got Enchiladas, Saul got Tacos, and I got a 3 inch 20 dollar burrito that left me sour for the rest of the night. We all still had a good laugh. We hauled ass to Butte Montana for the night. Slammed our luggage on the bed of another Motel 6, freshened up and made sure to head out to whatever bars they had to offer. Needless to say, we got back to the hotel around 1am, happy as clams.