B. suggested a mid-week overnight trip on the Bikes to Atlanta, ID. I was keen to go and was delighted when my secretary reported I had no pressing obligations on the proposed days.
We drove the 20 mikes to Mack’s Creek Campground on the shores of Lucky Peak Reservoir (now so low it is basically the Boise River and the boat ramps are far from the water) The next day we left the truck and rode to Atlanta.
An early-ish start. We have 65 miles to go today but it is “flat as a pancake” says B….”I put my map on the table and it was flat!?” The trees are Mack’s Creek.
Twin Springs is the first stop. There is a bar and a store with a few supplies but no restaurant.photo courtesy Bryan Wilkins
The road to Atlanta follows the North Fork and then the Middle Fork of the Boise River so there is plenty of water along the way.
The Beaver Lodge is open after having been leased to a mining company for several years. They were closed for the evening when we got there and we were standing in the gathering gloom and light rain (B. also insisted it was not going to rain on this ride) when the owner opened the door and asked us if we needed anything! He turned on the lights and the jukebox, fired up the grill and produced Stone Arrogant Bastard ale, one of my favorites. This trip just got a whole lot better.
Russ also told us where to camp. There are hot pools in the river and there is an actual developed hot springs about a quarter of a mile from here. We poked around in the dark and finally found it. This trip just got even better!
I took this picture as we were breaking camp. B. has been ready to go for at least a half hour and my stuff is still strewn about. I am consistently the slowest person ever to get ready in the morning.
The next few photos are of some of the hunting camps that are set up along side the road. Hunting season opened on Monday of this week and it looks as though these camps were set up several days or weeks before. We shared our spot in Atlanta with a party of 35 people who were there for the next two weeks. I’m sure they had as much difficulty understanding our enjoyment of our past time as I did of theirs.
Between Twin Springs and Atlanta the gravel road is graded almost to the consistency of blacktop. B. felt the need to flag down the grader operator and congratulate him.
