Cheesecake and whitewater

What a perfect weekend! I could not have asked for a more picturesque getaway. It was an enchanting and exciting fling with the city of Boise.

I got in Thursday night, accompanied by Mormons returning from their mission trips. When I got into the arrivals lobby I had to elbow my way through large reuniting families, searching for my non-Mormon friend - my best friend in the whole flipping world – Rachel. Her tattooed boyfriend of one week was a shining light in the LDS sea I was drowning in. That boyfriend is a keeper - he immediately asked what color my luggage was and went bounding off – making laps around the carousel pulling red suitcases off. I wound up with the wrong ones - my fault, not his. We got it all sorted out, though. It was late when I got in, so when Susan arrived I elected to head to her house and hit the hay.

Friday was awesome. Rachel and I met up early and went to lunch with her visiting friend, Kara, a native of Oregon. Cheesecake Factory good. That was seriously one of the meals I will remember all my life, or at least until I go to New York in August. After lunch, the three of us were doubled over in gluttonous pain and replied with groans and looks of disgust when we were offered pretzel samples at the mall. Poor girl. Rach headed to work, but Kara and I bummed around the mall. I love making new friends. I bought the hottest green dress to wear to the appreciation gala the following night. (Background: I made the trip to Boise in part to attend an appreciation night for my high school choir director. It sounds corny, I know, but he seriously was one of those teachers who changed my life.)

Susan and I met up later and had a 3:30 “dinner” with the “aunts.” They are the two sweetest ladies in the world, and they’re pretty much all the other has. You can imagine after a three-course late lunch at the Cheesecake Factory, I wasn’t ready for a 3:30 buffet-style dinner, but I managed. The rolls were yummy. After dinner Susan, Kristie (that’s my 7-year-old niece) and I went to see Shrek the Third. Afterwards I went to meet Susan’s new beau. He was very nice and I gave my stamp of approval. I even got a hug. Following that, we stopped and got ice cream in Middleton, Idaho. I got French fries, too, only because they have fry sauce in Idaho. I must have asked the girl behind the counter three times if there was fry sauce in the bag when she handed me my order. Love that fry sauce.

Saturday was the day of the appreciation gala. I spent Saturday morning with Rachel. Susan had orientation at BSU. Rach and I went downtown to the Co-op and got veggie sandwiches, fresh raspberries and pears, and freshly made cookies, and ate on the gazebo. It was wonderful. After lunch we hit some downtown shops. The Farmer’s Market was still in full swing and it was just a good, downtown Saturday. My rehearsal for the gala was at one, so I had to split kind of early.

I had some time after the rehearsal to wander about Boise, going to some of my old favorite places. I drove up Bogus Basin Road, and down Warm Springs to look at all the old, big homes. I stopped at Ann Morrison Park and walked along the river. And I started falling in love with the city I abandoned. I left while she was still growing up, and now I want to be a part of her again on some level. It’s strange to go back to a place that used to be your home. It’s not your home anymore, so it’s as if you lose your claim on all your favorite places and activities. I saw people (crazy people) floating in tubes down the still-icy river and I missed the summers I had spent doing just that. I guess a lot of it was my missing a simpler time in my life, not necessarily the city. But, Boise is a place unlike any other. It has so much beauty and class and character. A bustling cosmopolitan city or a mountain escape, it has so many faces. It’s charming and comforting while being sophisticated. Proof that, as humans, we don’t know what we’ve got until it’s gone.

The appreciation gala was spectacular. Again I was reminded of a simpler time. What I wouldn’t give to have a choir director in front of me every day measuring out the rhythm of my life - to have constant guidance, someone to tell me when to be loud, when to be silent, and when to change my pace. Next to my parents, Mr. Totorica was probably the most influential person in my life. Lessons he taught us are still with me. There was a sign hanging on the stage, which read: “You taught us life through music.” So true. I still consider what his opinion might be when I am at a crossroads.

Sunday was the big white water day. I have never had so much fun. We were all a little apprehensive at first, especially since I had changed our trip to a more challenging run a few days earlier. The drive up to Banks brought back so many memories. I probably drove that road 500 times, always watching the rafters and kayakers below. I love mountains. Being in the mountains with the wind blowing through the trees – tricking you into thinking there is a waterfall close by. The air is always cool and crisp and clean. The smell of pine, and campfire, and the buzz of insects and the call of birds. Even loud sounds nearby seem to be muffled, absorbed by the mountain air.

It wouldn’t have been a trip to Idaho if I hadn’t used an outhouse. Oh, those scare me so bad. That’s for another post. After sunscreen and life jackets and photo-ops we were in the water getting a 4-minute crash course in white water paddling. Then we were off. Somehow, I managed to get the lead position on the boat. When the fist rapids suddenly appeared around the bend, we all dug our feet into the toe pockets. We went way up, so far that when the guide called out “all forward” I couldn’t even reach the water with my paddle. Then we came surging back down and freezing water came crashing over us. In a few seconds it was over and I immediately wanted to push rewind and go again. There were several III+ rapids “Go left, or you’re fired”, “Bennett’s Rock”, “Mike’s Hole”, “The Mixmaster”, and a few more I can’t remember. I‘ve got the fever now. I will become a River Rat.

After the river, we went back to Boise and had lunch at Smoky Mountain Pizza and Pasta. It was exactly what I wanted. We sat on the patio, which always reminded me of a Midsummer Night’s Dream when I lived in Boise, it was still the same. Later I took a nap before treating Susan to her first sushi experience.

I headed home the next day after a few more stops at favorite places, like Hugo’s Deli (ecstasy on sourdough) where I got some more fry sauce and an awesome sandwich, because “they build sandwiches.” Boy do they.

I seriously considered moving back to Boise over the weekend. I love it so much and it offers the quality of life I am starving for. I never believed I would want to leave Texas or the south again, but the close-mindedness of the region is beginning to take its toll. However, when the plane began to descend over Dallas, my heart swelled. Texas is home, she’s not perfect, but I belong here, somewhere. Boise will remain a place to visit and love – when I left there four years ago, I was disgusted with the state, but now I know I was disgusted with myself and what I had let my life become. Now that I am at peace with me, I can embrace and love from a distance the state that raised me.