pioneer spirit

On a road trip through southern Idaho, Betsy Andrews explores the state's long human history of sanctuary seekers, renegades, and travelers looking for a fresh start

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push with your legs, don't pull with your hands!" With the encouragement of my instructor, Sawtooth Mountain Guides' Matt Scrivner, I had already stretched myself over seemingly impassable humps of stone and up a natural rock ladder. Now I was tied to a rope 40 feet up, staring at the cliff face for some kind of purchase. But this final climb wasn't going to happen. I slid back down.

I'm a middle-aged gal with two artificial hips, and it was my first time rock climbing. "You should be proud," Scrivner said.

"Now look around and take in the view." Splayed out across the scrublands, the ancient formations of southern Idaho's Castle Rocks State Park shimmered in the afternoon sun.

After Scrivner took me to see the petroglyphs nearby, I went for a drive around the neighboring City of Rocks National Reserve with a ranger named Sophia Bates, who showed me rock art of a different kind. "From 1843 to 1882," she said, "over a quarter of a million people came through here on the California Trail" a wagon train route from Missouri to the Golden State.

There was once a depot stop right here amid the outcroppings.

Inscribed in the granite I saw the names of pioneers: Minnie Wright; A. Freeman, June. 12.50; John Calliher 1880.

Bates was also my host at Rock Wren Hideaway, a glamping site that she owns with her husband, Derek, just outside the park. The bathroom was an outhouse and the night chilled my bones, but the big white safari tent was adorably outfitted with leather chairs, beanbags, and a comfy bed. I took a last look at the splashy stars then tucked myself in under piles of blankets and slept like a baby.