Idaho Homesteading
A few weeks ago I had the chance to travel to east Idaho with my employer, The Nature Conservancy. The trip was to give Legacy Club members the opportunity to experience strutting sage grouse up close on one of our preserves. As with many trips, I went expecting one kind of image, and come out with something very different.
Don’t get me wrong, sage grouse strutting for the ladies is nothing to shake your finger at. It was incredible. For a month or so each spring, male sage grouse “dance” to woo females. To see such a sight involves getting up WAY before the crack of dawn and sitting in very chilly bird blinds. The show starts before sunlight, and all around the blind is a very distinctive aqueous popping noise. Once the sun rises, and if the blind’s in the right spot, you will be surrounded by sage grouse males puffing up their white chest “ball sack” and letting the air go. If a lady wanders in they will puff themselves silly trying to catch her affections. When a lady is not around, they will fight and scuffle amongst themselves, while letting out intermittent pops to let everyone know where they are. Think singles bar – bird style. (To see this in action – go check out this video.)
What really caught my attention at this location, however, was a side-trip to an abandoned homestead on The Nature Conservancy’s property. This property was occupied until approximately the 50′s, then presumably the family moved onto another location, or another lifestyle. At this site was a large two-story house surrounded by old farm machinery, cars, and pens for livestock. The homestead was surrounded by rolling hills, a seasonal spring, and in the further distance, the mountains of Idaho and Wyoming. While it wasn’t hard to imagine living in such a picturesque place, it was hard to imagine living so remotely. With no electricity or plumbing, and a very long and bumpy access road to the location, the life must have been a hard one. Here are a few images of the location that caught my attention and held it tight.
