Ida Ho
It has been a wet dreary day with rolling but not obstinate hills. A hooded Gortex jacket, sweater, and wool hat, keep me warm. Then, unannounced, alongside a newly planted wheat crop, a tiny sign announces “Entering Idaho”, and the Coeur d’ Elaine Indian reservation.
Finally, I am here and have only had to walk 2867.6 miles to experience the joy of what I call “The Potato State” Growing up Mom always told us that potatoes which we were both obligated and delighted to eat, every, every, night were from Idaho. I call Doris to announce my triumphant arrival. Now an Idaho adventure begins.
Ida Ho