Bad Moon on the Rise

Last night was the Salmon River District’s recognition dinner. The town of Salmon is about a three-hour drive from Idaho Falls. Through the high desert, over the Gilmore Summit, along the Lemhi River Valley, to the beautiful old mining town of Salmon. With the Bitterroot Range to the east and the Lemhi Range to the west and straddling the Salmon River the town of Salmon in located in a beautiful natural setting.

For those who are unfamiliar with the history of the area, the Lewis and Clark Corps of Discovery crossed the continental divide at Lemhi Pass (crossing from what is today Montana into Idaho) and descended into the Lemhi River Valley just a few miles south of where the town of Salmon is today. Their Indian guide Sacajawea was raised in the valley and by the time Lewis and Clark arrived her brother Cameahwait was the chief of the Shoshone tribe in the Valley. They gave Lewis and Clark horses which allowed them to continue on their trek to the Columbia River and the Pacific Ocean.

Our council president, Gregg Landon, and I have gone to fifteen of the eighteen district dinners so far this year. He was riding with me on this trip.

There was a severe wind storm and Interstate-15 was closed from Idaho Falls to Roberts, not an uncommon occurrence around here, due to blowing dust. The wind picks up the dust from the potato fields and visibility drops to almost zero. We took the back roads from Idaho Falls to Roberts and picked up I-15 at Roberts. North to Sage Junction, west on Highway 33, then north on Highway 28 to Salmon. Along the way we saw lots of cattle, several deer, and one moose grazing in the creek below Gilmore Pass. Gregg commented that we need to watch out for them on the drive back because it will be dark.

The dinner finished at about 8:30 and we got back in my truck for the drive back to Idaho Falls. It was dusk and the storm had passed over while we were at the dinner. It was a beautiful evening with a partly cloudy sky. As we were driving the full moon rose through the clouds over the mountains to the east in a glorious display. There was enough lingering twilight for me to see pretty well through most of the heavily timbered Lemhi River Valley where there is always a lot of wildlife.

By the time we started the slow climb up Gilmore Pass it was full dark but by then we were pretty high and up and out of the timbered lowlands. I wasn’t too worried about playing deer-tag at this higher altitude. There are often antelope in that part of the country but we didn’t see a single one on our drive up and I assume they have not migrated back to their normal summer grazing territory in the high sagebrush desert. Right at the edge of my headlights I saw something in the middle of the road and I hit my brakes—hard. Just as I did I realized what I saw was the light feather hairs on the back edges of the legs of a moose. The moose was very dark and all I could see were those light hairs and the moose’s silhouette backlit by the moon.

I was breaking very hard by then and I saw that it was a large cow moose with a young calf right behind it. The cow was in the middle of the road and the calf was behind her to the left in the opposite lane. They were crossing the road from east to west and had stopped as we approached. The truck came to a stop with only about ten feet to spare. It took my heart a lot longer to slow down. As I slowly started rolling again the moose (mooses? meese?) moved back the way they came then ran quite a ways along the side of the road keeping pace with the truck. I finally sped up and left them behind.

I’m glad Gregg warned me to keep a watch out on the return trip. I’m glad the moose had a small strip of light hairs on the back edges of her legs. I’m glad there was a full moon rising. And I’m glad my brakes worked well. Change any one of those things and this story would have ended differently.

I see a bad moon arising.
I see trouble on the way.
. . .
Don’t go around tonight,
Well its bond to take your life,
There’s a bad moon on the rise.