We decided not to go to the Basque museum on our last full day in Boise, Idaho. Donna went grocery shopping, then she had some cooking to do. She baked a French style cherry pie and added apricots to it. She also made prosciutto-wrapped asparagus spears with garlic and herb boursin cheese. She wanted to bring the appetizer and dessert to our friends, Mike and Dina Martin’s place where we were invited for dinner.

Mike and I chatted outside their coach at Riverside RV park in Garden City – a Boise suburb north of town along the Boise River. Meanwhile the girls had girl-talk inside while Dina prepared an awesome chicken piccata.

Chicken piccata plate ala Dina Martin

As usual, the time got away from us and it was after 9pm before we got home.

On Wednesday morning we prepped for travel and pulled out of Mountain View RV Park. Our first stop would be in Jerome at the Pilot/Flying J travel center about 120 miles away. I planned to fuel up there and also have the coach and trailer washed at the Blue Beacon truck wash that shares the lot with the travel center.

We got there around 12:30pm. While I pumped 67 gallons of fuel @ $2.48/gallon, Donna walked across the street to Subway to get meatball marinara subs for lunch. I told her I would be at Blue Beacon by the time she came back. I pulled over toward the Blue Beacon and found a queue of trucks. I stopped short so I could allow room to maneuver and got out to see if this was a line for the truck wash. I asked the trucker ahead of me and he said it was. I asked how long he thought it would take, he said, “Figure 20 minutes per truck so we’re looking at about two hours.” I was glad I stopped and allowed room to move – I moved out of line and parked on the street. I phoned Donna as she was leaving Subway and told her where to find me.

Boise sits at an elevation of around 2,700 feet above sea level. As we drove east on I-86, it’s a gradual but constant climb. Pocatello sits at an elevation of 4,460 feet above sea level. Along the way, we were involved in an incident.

You’ve probably heard the old saw about the difference between being involved and being committed where a plate of ham and eggs is the example. The chicken was involved while the pig was committed.

We were cruising along on what had been an uneventful few hours of driving. We passed a few signs warning of game crossing the road, but at 2:30pm, I wasn’t too concerned about game crossing. I could see the Snake River on our left and thought maybe deer or antelope might come out of the hills and cross the interstate to reach the river for water in the morning or evening.

Around mile post 49 I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. It was a deer – a large bodied buck crossing the westbound lanes toward us at full speed. I said out loud, “Don’t do it, don’t do it!” Donna heard this and saw the buck come flying into the center median where he made a quick cut to his left. I could see our paths would coincide and for a split second, I thought this cut to the left would avoid us meeting. But then he bounded to the right onto the eastbound interstate and took a flying leap into the side of our coach.

The force of the impact made a loud bang but otherwise didn’t disturb our 35,000-pound rig moving along at 60mph. The buck didn’t fare so well. The moving coach spun him around and hurled him to the pavement. It wasn’t a survivable impact. He was committed to getting across the interstate and unfortunately we became involved. I don’t think there was anything I could have done to avoid it – it happened way too fast.

I pulled off the road at the next off-ramp and checked the damage. We have a dent and crack in the fiberglass laminate sidewall on the driver’s side on the living room slide. A basement compartment door also has some damage and there are a few paint scrapes.

Crack in fiberglass laminate side wall

Looks like I’ll be dealing with insurance again.

Our plan was to boondock for the night at a spot Donna found on the Escapee’s directory outside of Soda Springs. The last update was about two years ago, so we figured it would be a safe bet. Not so much. It’s currently an active gravel pit with loaders and construction trucks. We kept moving.

Eventually I found a pull-out on US30 at Georgetown Summit where we’re parked at an elevation of 6,280 feet above sea level. It turned out to be more than a 300-mile day – longer than we’ve been driving lately.

The temperature dropped to the 40s overnight and although there was some road noise, I slept soundly. Today we’ll press on to Rock Springs, Wyoming. We plan to check in at the fairground RV park and hit the Blues and Brews festival this weekend.