Craters of the Moon is a deceptive name for a National Monument and Preserve. After all, the craters of Idaho don’t resemble the surface of the moon.
On the contrary, the upheaval of 600 square miles of basaltic lava as recently as 2,000 years ago was caused when the Great Rift fissure reawakened. Nevertheless, it was NASA’s preferred location to train Apollo astronauts to search for rock specimens because its harsh terrain is akin to a lunar landscape.
This patch of scorched earth along the Snake River Plains is still considered active, although unlikely to erupt in the next hundred years or more–which gives all of us plenty of time to explore the lava fields…
for stellar examples of lava craters,
and cinder cones.
Trudging up the steep gravel pile to the summit of Inferno Cone gave us sweeping views of the Snake River Plains,
an overview of the volcanic basin,
and a distant impression of the Pioneer Mountains.
Next attraction to explore on the 7-mile Loop Road was the Indian Tunnel and neighbor caves, stitched into an underground network of collapsed lava tubes.
Before arriving at Indian Tunnel, Leah and I consulted a ranger at the Visitor Center who helped to plan our day. She also permitted us to enter Indian Tunnel (stamping our park map), but not before allaying her suspicion that our clothing, shoes, and all personal accessories were carriers for spreading white-nose syndrome to a vulnerable bat population.
Traditional stairs and railings led us to the brink of the cave, but we were soon on our own–finding our footing over and around immense basalt boulders–as we descended deeper into a pit surrounded by colorful walls.
Available light came from a open dome whose ceiling had crumbled hundreds of years ago.
We scrambled through rock piles, feeling our way through the tunnel, until we reached another lit opening, signaling our exit.
We rounded out the day’s visit with a stop at Devil’s Orchard, a nature loop trail winding through cinder beds and hearty vegetation,
although, flourishing flora was more the exception than the rule.
The following day, Leah and I drove through the Craters of the Moon Wilderness,
taking a dusty, rutted, gravel road to the edge of civilization.
We were completely isolated in a desolate wasteland. Only the livestock had a half-hearted interest in our visit.
We were eager to find something significant on the drive, but we quickly reconsidered after discovering Piss Ant Butte in the distance.
At last we reached our objective: the end of the road, and Snowdrift Crater, a landmark detail on our map.
Back at Arco, I captured the edge of town beneath a cloudless sky, and I had low expectations for any kind of a sunset.
And then the winds pick up…
They’re gusting at 40, 50, mph…
and baby pinecones are peppering the aluminum rooftop…
and a storm cloud passes directly overhead, shooting crazy lightening…
and Leah is tracking the storm on her phone…
and the TV announcer is cautioning viewers to prepare for tornadic thunderstorms…
and I’m standing outside with my camera, wondering if the lava fields have come alive, after all.