Retracing our Honeymoon

For years, Dave and I talked about retracing our honeymoon.  The weekend of June 22-25, 2012, we actually did it.

On Thursday night, June 22, we drove to Silver Fork Lodge, up Little Cottonwood Canyon, for dinner and to stay the night.  We got engaged over breakfast at Silver Fork Lodge in 1970.  Before settling into the Lodge, we drove all the way to Brighton, where we spent our first night as Mr. and Mrs. Spendlove at a motel near the ski lift.  The motel was still there, although open only "in season."  We'll go back another time.

We chatted, in the lobby of the Silver Fork Lodge, with a young ocuple who were on their honeymoon.  We told them we were celebrating 42 years of marriage, with both our engagement and first night together occurring in Little Cottonwood Canyon.  The hotel staff were charmed by the coincidence.  The staff gave the young couple a bottle of wine, compliments of us, and gave us a bottle of Martinelli apple juice, compliments of the young couple.   The young couple and we effusively thanked each other, and it was only later that Dave and I realized who our gift was really from!

On Friday, we drove to Blackfoot, Idaho, where we spent the second night of our honeymoon.  In retrospect, that seems like a curious choice.  We visited the Idaho Potato Museum and then asked the clerk, "What else is there to see in town?"  "Well, nothing, really," she said.

We drove into Idaho Falls and overdosed on ribs, mac'n'cheese with jalapenos, stewed apples, and key lime pie (me) and with salmon for better-disciplined David.

On Saturday morning, we moseyed north towards Sun Valley.  We enjoyed driving through little Idaho towns like Arco.  Arco was the first village/city anywhere to have its lights powered by nuclear energy.  There are still nuclear labs in the Idaho desert.

We spent several hours at Craters of the Moon National Monument, just as we did on our honeymoon. We hiked through a lava bed and to the top of a cinder cone, where we could see volcanic formations for miles around. 

We also hiked inside Indian Cave, formed when a huge lava tube collapsed.

No trip would be complete, for me, without a funky, small town museum.  We stopped at the Blaine County Museum in Hailey, Idaho, 30 miles south of Sun Valley.  Dave patiently waited in the car while I savored the treasures of the museum--a renovated walk-through mine shaft of this old lead and silver mining area, an ornately carved 1890s piano, and 1920s furs and christening dresses.  There was also a hospital bed from World War II, used when the second floor of the Sun Valley Lodge became a rehabilitation center for Navy mental health patients.

We stopped at Sun Valley Lodge and remembered the fun family vacations we spent here, as I attended the annual Utah State Bar meetings.

We drove over Galena Pass and into the Salmon River Valley, with the jagged cliffs of the Sawtooth Range surrounding us.

Redfish Lake was as rustic, scenic, and charming as we remembered.  Our room at the lodge had two narrow beds and a bathroom down the hall, but we had a great view of the lake.  We spent time outside, lounging on the lawn chairs looking out at the water and the Sawtooths.

We ate fresh trout and a cherry tart in the lodge restaurant.

On Sunday morning, we attended LDS Church services at the Meditation Chapel in Stanley, Idaho.  The Chapel was used by all religions in that tiny town.  The men met for Priesthood meeting outside so the women could have the one-room Chapel for Relief Society.  We gathered together for Sacrament Meeting.  The windows framed the gorgeous Sawtooths.

We drove to nearby Stanley Lake, where Dave remembered camping with his family as a teenager, and falling in love with this beautiful area.

On Sunday afternoon, we took a boat ride around Redfish Lake.  The trails at the end of the lake, leading into the wilderness area, beckoned.

Our final dinner was at the Sawtooth Hotel in Stanley, where we sat on the porch and ate such tasty dishes as quinoa salad with beets, salmon with caper sauce, and old-fashioned lemon icebox cake.

We fell in love with Stanley.  All its buildings are made of logs.  Saloons and whitewater rafting outfitters outnumber schools and churches and office buildings.  "This looks like Alaska," David told our dinner server.  "It feels like Alaska, too," she replied.  "It is one of the coldest spots in the U.S. and as soon as the snow falls, everyone flees."  The road sign for Stanley said "Population 69".

We left Redfish Lake early on Monday morning.  As we pulled out, I noticed another car leaving, piled high with bikes and other outdoor toys.  They'd no doubt be back, and so would we.