Idaho

It was an easy ride into Boise.  We met Andrea’s brother and his wife for lunch and then drove out to their place in the hills 25 miles northeast of the city.

We were a little short on our battery charge, but they have a 220 volt outlet we could use.  Or, we could use it if we had the right adapter.  While just about any 110 volt plug will fit in any 100 volt outlet in this country, there are two standards for 220 volt outlets, and ours and his weren’t the same.  (110 volts is standard household current; 220 volts is for electric stoves and most clothes dryers.)  We plugged into a 110 volt outlet in their garage and hoped for the best.

It was a wonderful visit — relaxed, with good conversation and good food on the barbecue on their back patio, watching the hills darken as the sun set.

The next morning we discovered that the Tesla chargers across southern Wyoming are active.  I’d been watching them on a Tesla forum.  Up until this morning, the chargers seemed to be ready but hadn’t been turned on yet.  Without the chargers in either Rawlins or Laramie, we’d have to take the longer route south through Salt Lake City, Price and Green River, Utah, and then east on I-70 to Denver.  With the Wyoming chargers all active, we could go east on I-80 — a shorter route.  I-70 through the Colorado mountains is one of the prettiest interstate highways, but we’ve done that three times recently and we’re ready for a change.

The speed limit across Idaho is 80 mph, and in most places there is little reason to go slower.  But the chargers across Idaho are farther apart than is usual.  Just like a gas car, how far we can go on a charge (or tankful) drops off rapidly above 70 mph or so.  We had gained about 60 miles of range plugging in overnight and prudently set the cruise control for 75.  We arrived at the charger in Twin Falls with an estimated 66 miles of range left on the battery.

I like the open spaces.  Places like the road from Baker City, Oregon to the Idaho border and the great emptiness from Rock Springs to Rawlins, Wyoming appeal to me for some reason.  But I-84 across southern Idaho, much of the land dry grass and sage with black lava poking through the surface, well, I’m glad to be done with it.  The last stretch, where I-84 turns southeast to Utah is mostly open grassland, with no towns for almost 100 miles, the road dotted with signs warning about severe weather, dust storms, and deer migration paths.  Oddly, I like that section.

Today was in the low 90s with clear skies dingy from a smoky haze from wildfires.  Tonight we’re in Tremonton, Utah, below the Wasatch Mountains.  We’re talking about what to do with the extra time we have now that we don’t have to go south to catch I-70.  We have our traveling shoes on at last.