Day 3: Twin Falls and the Road to Salt Lake City

It was a gorgeous sunny mid eighties day – perfect for viewing nature at its rawest (pardon me if that’s not a word) and at its most manipulated.

The Magic Valley came suddenly into view at the edge of a shopping centre parking lot. It was something of a shock to see this spectacular gorge cutting right through the north end of Twin Falls and providing vistas of graggy rocks and blue green water. It is spanned by the I.B. Perrine Bridge 486 feet above the Snake River.

But, even more surprising than the sudden appearance of the valley and the bridge in the middle of town was the sight of something fluttering in midair toward the river below. But I became more than a little nervous when I noticed a figure at mid span on the bridge. And, when that figure climbed over the railing and then launched himself off, well, you can imagine what I thought. Fortunately, my terror at witnessing a man jumping to his death was short lived when his parachute opened and he floated gracefully to a landing zone on the riverbank. (The fluttering I had seen just before his launch was his jumping partner whose parachute I caught out of the corner of my eye). The Perrine Bridge as it turns out is the only bridge in the US where BASE jumping is legal without a permit – but no bungee jumping allowed thank you very much.

Also visible from this site is the dirt ramp used by Evil Knievel when he attempted to jump the Magic Valley in 1974. He, too, survived. Although his jump was unsuccessful and he was plucked out of the river by a helicopter. (According to the lady at the tourist information centre, there wasn’t even anyone waiting on the other side. No expectations there.)

About three miles upriver, we viewed the Shashone Falls. Once known as the “Niagara of the West”, the flow of water has been considerably reduced by the creation of a dam, the brainchild of none other than I.B. Perrine in the early 1900’s to divert the Snake River for the purpose of irrigating the surrounding areas. This forever changed the land from sagebrush covered desert to high production farmland. Although the present day onlooker misses out on the breathtaking site of so much water falling some 200 feet into the Snake River (as evidenced in old photos taken of the area before the diversion), the sculpted rocks where thousands of years of rushing water once flowed have been revealed to him or her. And let’s not forget the humanity that has been fed off the resulting fertile land.

Our visit to the city of Twin Falls wouldn’t have seemed complete without a visit to “the falls” a few more miles upriver from Shashone Falls. But, here again the flow of water has been reduced this time by a hydroelectric dam, the work of Idaho Power. In fact one of the falls has been eliminated all together. So, ironically, there is only one water fall at the Twin Falls site. You might say Idaho Power dammed the river and damned the falls.

Much of the landscape on the drive from Twin Falls reminded me of the Fraser Valley. The sagebrush studded grasslands were replaced by tree edged fields (finally some vegetation taller than a metre) of corn or grain or hay or range land with large numbers of cattle or horses and mountains off in the distance. Oh, and I think I finally found the potatoes – fields and fields of them. Once in Utah, the landscape changed again. Here large gnarly juniper co-existed with pine trees and – you guessed it – sagebrush.

After a cursory glimpse of Salt Lake City, we settle in tonight looking forward to touring this beautiful city tomorrow.

Until tomorrow. . . .