While freeways can be great for getting you quickly from one place to another, they leave out a lot of interesting places and give you the impression that most of America is composed of shopping malls, gas stations and fast food places. We were heading through Utah and then Idaho to get to Yellowstone zooming along at 80 miles an hour along with everyone else when Maurice started looking for a motel as it was after five and we were tired. He found, via his IPhone, a place in a little town off of the Interstate, called, found they had a room free and we exited with relief off of the highway onto a local road. The town was McCammon, Idaho and the name of the hotel was The Harkness. We had some doubts as we arrived but they disappeared when we entered the lobby which was large, modern and very well decorated. There was a young man behind the desk who turned out to be the owner, decorator, and craftsman who did all of the carpentry, electrical, etc.
He was amazing and very proud of his place and he gave me a tour of all of the rooms some of which had kitchens. The hotel wasn’t totally finished. Our room still needed baseboards and more furniture and the bathroom sink base still needed finishing but our room was still very elegant and restful with wallpaper from England and Italian tile in the bathroom along with the original wood floors.
The Harkness Hotel in a building that has been several businesses including a bank-there is still a vault in the lobby that is going to become a gift shop. The hotel was named after Mr. Harkness, a very successful business man in the town. The hotel is near some hot springs which is a big draw here and I wish I had time to check them out.
The Idaho license plate. Maurice noticed that they said, “Famous Potatoes”. I saw a potato museum off the highway at one point and on the local news it was reported that since there had been a lot of rain two days were being added to the harvest time for potatoes.
We had dinner and then breakfast here, a place out of the 60’s reminded me of my childhood called Little Rock Cafe. The food was okay, the breakfast being the best thing. I enjoyed watching the locals come in to eat, drink and talk. Most of the men must have been farmers or ranchers all dressed in jeans and baseball hats, older men, some with their wives. We were in a very rural area.