I tried to get as much speed as I could for the climb up Freezeout Hill, and I managed to stay in fourth gear until I reached the top. We passed a historical marker on the right, its American flag flapping hard against its bright blue background. I have pulled over often enough to have almost memorized the wording on the sign. A man named Tim Goodale opened part of the Oregon Trail near here in 1862. Later that year, there was a gold rush and people started farming close by to provide crops for the minors. There is a 9/11 memorial at Freezeout, too.
As if reading my mind, Jodie said, “You know, the guy who put this memorial together?”
“Olson?”
“Jim Olson. His wife is named Billie. My dad helped him on a project at the Legion Hall, and he is one of the nicest guys ever, his wife, too. I just think that’s funny. Not a very common name for a gal.” She grinned and pushed an imaginary loose hair behind her ear.
“Yeah, that is weird. I have only met one other woman named Billie in person. She was an alumna from U Dub.”
When we got down the other side of the hill, Jodie settled into her seat and placed her hand on mine where it rested on the gear shifter. We smiled at each other and at Frodo, who was already napping on her lap. Lucy and Pippin had stopped crisscrossing the truck bed and were now hunkered down across each wheel well, staring down the road behind us as if they were leaving their home forever.
“You’re pretty good with a stick shift, for a city girl.”
“Ha-ha. You can thank Liv for that. In our junior year, she found out I couldn’t drive stick, so she borrowed her boyfriend’s car and made me learn. Believe me, driving a stick in Seattle is no fun – there’s too many traffic jams.”
We got on the outskirts of Boise, headed down State Street, and I noted the turn off for Liv’s old place. We passed through downtown unscathed, then edged around and turned onto Warm Springs Road. Within minutes we passed the turn for Liv and Nate’s new house.
“This is as far as I’ve been.” After the residential streets gave way to churches and some sort of school, the terrain changed to a kind of flat, grassy area. Soon I could see the Boise River to our right.
“Over there is Barber Park. We could float the river this summer if you wanted to.”
“That sounds cool. What is that over there – Shakespeare something?”
“Yep, there’s a Shakespeare festival every year.”
“Who knew?” I shrugged my shoulders.
We reached an intersection, and I turned left onto Highway 21. We stopped at a few historical markers. One for the Oregon Trail, one for, and I kid you not, Beaver Dick’s Ferry, and finally one at the diversion dam. It was kind of interesting at the dam, and I plan on going back without the dogs. Even today, there was traffic, and the parking lot is across the road from the dam. The road went over a few more steep hills, but the truck did okay. We passed another dam, and the area got greener, more tree-lined. Every turn seemed to be a gulch. Wildcat Gulch. Steirman Gulch. Milk Ranch Gulch. Big Gulch.
“At the risk of sounding ignorant, what the hell’s a gulch?”
“I don’t know exactly. I’m sure it has to do with the river.”
There were evergreen trees as far as the eye could see, and I wondered if somehow we had gotten lost. “Are you sure there’s a city out here?”
“I assure you there is. Kind of. Anyway, we should let the dogs run before we get into town. Wear them out a bit.”
Jodie had me take the turn for Grayback Gulch. There were campsites with about a half-dozen RVs set up, and at the end of the road was an amphitheater with a couple of trails leading off the main area. No one was down this far, so we let the dogs run without leashes. Lucy took off like a shot, with Pippin chasing on her heels.
“They deserted us, Frodo.” Jodie sat the little dog down, and he sped off into the woods, too.
“We should at least make an effort to catch up with them, I guess.” I took Jodie’s hand, and we sauntered after the dogs. We were still warm from the car, but the air outside wasn’t too bad, anyway. The walk was fairly easy until we got to a hilly part, where we picked our way along individually. Frodo came running back to give us a report on the other dogs.
“Lucy!” I yelled, and a black blur jumped out of the bushes, zipped around our legs, and dove back up the hill. Seconds later Pippin emerged, traveling in a smaller arc. “Seems to be okay.”
“Lucky there are no rangers around. Hmm. There’s nobody around, really.” We ducked into an area more crowded with trees, and Jodie stopped and turned around towards me with a devilish grin on her face. She leaned in and put her lips to mine, and I thought I would melt right there. Just behind us was a small grassy mound, and we glided to it with no effort. In seconds, we were on the ground and she was on top of me. All my synapses were firing. There were no thoughts of the open truck or marauding dogs or indecency ticketing; there was just Jodie and me. At the moment I thought Jodie
