Fifteen years ago, my dad was an EMT and a logger in a small subdivision south of Cascade called Smith's Ferry. My mom, a 911 Dispatcher for the Valley County Sheriff's Department. Times were hard for the Logging Industry then. My parents soon realized that we weren't going to be able to make it on just her salary alone. So they sought out other options. Thus her finding a position at the City of Lewiston Dispatch Center. We had no problems selling our 5 acres in the middle of nowhere and transferring to the Lewiston Valley. As a fourteen year old, I hated them for up-rooting me from the only place I called home.
Fast forwarding to present time, I still live in the Lewiston Valley, but that doesn't mean I miss home any less. (I still refer Smith's Ferry as home, I think I always will). Last weekend Eric and I made a unplanned trip to Boise to purchase some furniture that was too irresistible to pass up. We decided to head south through the Weiser route, but then we'd take our time coming up through Cascade and McCall. I asked him to stop in Smith's Ferry to let the dog out and for Caitrin to stretch her legs. Looking around, I saw very few things had changed. Still lots of snow and the roads were horrid. Here are a few snap shots of what used to be my home...
This is Cougar Mountain. Hiked around on it a few times, never saw a cougar.
Cougar Mountain Lodge. My bus stop every morning at 6:30am. It took and hour and a half each way to get to and from school in Cascade.
We lived two miles behind the Lodge, down river. Eric didn't want to try to attempt getting back to the house I used to live in since we had the furniture in the back of the truck. We didn't want to risk ruining it with mud and slush.
We didn't hang out for very long, the weather didn't look promising. Though the time was brief, I was satisfied in seeing where my roots once were established.