Blog Archives

Hem Abides

Posted on by Diane Covington-Carter / 1 Comment

In the Valley of Memorabilia By Diane Covington-Carter My two journalism assignments when I traveled from my home in California to the Wood River Valley not long ago were the vibrant local food scene and the area’s year-round
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On the Fringe

Posted on by Laurence G. Cohen / Leave a comment

Wildlife Edges Closer Story and Photos by Larry Cohen About ten yards down the side trail I spotted her as she looked for bits of food in the winter terrain. I slowed down so she would have little
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Cat Burglar

Posted on by Janice Pollard / Comments Off on Cat Burglar

In the Dead of Night By Janice Pollard Photos courtesy of Janice Pollard Winter days in the Wood River Valley are dazzling, crisp, and sunshiny, with nights that can become freezing cold, although when the moon shines brightly,
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Way Fast on Snow

Posted on by Ray Brooks / Comments Off on Way Fast on Snow

When Skiing Was Shoeing Story and Photos by Ray Brooks In the fall of 1962, my nineteen-year-old brother returned from a deer hunt with a pair of eight-foot-long, weathered and warped, handmade wooden skis he had discovered in
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Back Then in the Valley

Posted on by John W. Lundin / Leave a comment

By John W. Lundin Photos courtesy Center for Regional History, the Community Library, unless otherwise noted I first skied in the Wood River Valley in 1960, after a twenty-four-hour train ride from Seattle, when a week-long ski pass
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Cowgirl Up

Posted on by Kaitlyn Farrington / Leave a comment

My love for Idaho is long and varied. I had so many wonderful experiences growing up on my family’s ranch south of Bellevue that I can hardly imagine growing up any other way. My parents got a divorce when I was in third grade, but my dad moved just down the road, to the other side of our hundred acres. It was great, because I could either hop on my horse bareback and ride down to the other house, or hop on my four-wheeler. I suspect there are not many other places you can do that.

I used to go on really long four-wheeling rides to this place we called “Up Top.” It was our other piece of land, a little more than 250 acres. All over Up Top were natural springs, where I would swim during the summer. Up Top was my getaway. Continue reading

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