Jerome Creek, 23 June 2005
The Idyll
Jerome Creek, Idaho, pronounced Jerome Crick, is not a town on a map. It’s a road, and a crick, and 20 or so resident humans, and far more resident livestock, about 40 minutes from Moscow, Idaho. The area is pasture, field, and coniferous forest, as well as clearcut and replantings. The place I am staying is 80 acres and home to two humans (away in Europe for the three weeks that I’m here), one dog (Kit), and three horses (in order of equine hierarchy: Shadow, Toby, and Sikum). The 80 acres, comprising pond, pasture, and tree farm, borders national forest land and Potlatch logging company land. There are endless trails for riding or hiking (although the local bears . . . which I’ve never seen, but other people have . . . keep me on the main roads when I’m afoot). It’s much drier here than at home in Seattle. Aridity, coupled with the lack of Puget Sound, makes for incredible temperature shifts. During the late summer, it can be 95 in the afternoons, and 25 in the early mornings. The horses, who need their winter coats for the nights, stand around panting during the days. This time of year, early summer, is more temperate. The spring rains are tapering off and days are only in the 80s, and nights are only in the 50s (although it did freeze less than a week ago).

It’s a little disingenuous to count Jerome Creek as travel, as I have come to think of it—and treat it—as my second home. With my work schedule as a writer, I am flexible as a housesitter for the retired family friends who actually own this place . . . and I’ve spent so much time here without them that I’ve come to feel as though they are visiting me when we’re all here together. Still, it is a step away from my day-to-day life, and as such offers the perspective so often available (although, with package tours and trips to “destinations” perspective is easy to ignore) to travelers.