Even though Cortney and I have been back from our bike trip for a few months, we’ve still been in a bit of limbo. Mainly because we’re waiting until we can move back into our house. Well, the wait is over.
Someone once said, “Starting strong is good. Finishing strong is epic.” So in that spirit, we squeezed in one last bike adventure this past weekend. It was a great way to mark this new beginning before settling back into our suburban lifestyle. And where better to ride than to the remote and historic town of Atlanta, Idaho?
Atlanta holds a special place in my heart for a couple of reasons. First off, it’s a super-secluded mining town with a population of about 30. It’s tucked away along the crystal-clear Boise River, right where Middle Fork Road comes to an end. To sweeten the deal, the majestic Sawtooth Mountains serve as a stunning backdrop. Atlanta is a town with a rich history filled with pioneers, miners, and a colorful cast of characters. My favorite is the one about the infamous Peg Leg Annie, who ran a “house of entertainment.”
But I’d visited Atlanta once before. A couple of summers ago, my daughter and I cycled from Featherville over Pfeifer Pass and up to Atlanta to camp. The next day we took the dusty, potholed road down to Highway 21, cramming in as much mileage, climbing, and adventure as possible into the weekend. We typically embrace “Type 2” fun and that trip delivered. And even though we ran out of food the last 40 miles—except for some unsavory summer sausage—we had an awesome time. We’ve often talked about going back. And this seemed like the perfect opportunity—only this trip, I’d be going with Cortney (and we’d make sure we had enough food).
The plan was simple. Cortney and I would drive past the 20-ish miles of sandy washboard roads to Willow Creek Campground, car camp, then pedal the 47 mountain miles to Atlanta the next day. Most important, the pace would be more luxurious, and the fun, less type 2.
Sure, this bike camping trip was Cortney’s idea, but she was a bit nervous going into it. Rough, rocky terrain, a remote route, and a fair amount of climbing would challenge anyone. But I reminded her that she cycled across the country—she can do anything.
The Middle Fork Road is its own kind of adventure. Sure, it’s rough, but it’s an engineering marvel that tracks the river the entire way. It winds through canyons and transitions from high desert into lush forest. There are campgrounds dotting the route, plenty of free dispersed spots, and natural hot springs that call out for a dip. What you won’t find are markets, convenience stores, pizza places, or sadly, breweries. (There should be though!) So you’ve got to be resourceful.
For being so remote, there was a surprising number of off-roaders: ATVs, motorcycles, and fly fishermen. True to form, we were the only cyclists out there.
Heading out from the Willow Creek Campground toward Atlanta.
There are tons of old mining remnants and shafts, like this one along the river. Crazy, right?
If you want to grab anything last-minute, Twin Springs General Store is your only stop before you hit Atlanta.
When we left Willow Creek in the morning, Cortney suggested we make the ride up and camp in Atlanta, then come back the next day to get our car. It was a little ambitious for Team Olson. The climb was slow and steady, it was hot and dusty, and the road was riddled with potholes and fresh gravel. We didn’t want this to turn into a death march, so we found a beautiful place to stay along the river where Middle Fork Road connects with Pfiefer Road. It’s good to be kind to yourself.
We were able to set up right on the river, which was amazing. And there was this lovely crystal-clear, ice-cold pool to cool off in. (Yes, I dunked. And yes, it makes you feel very ALIVE.)
From camp, we had a short 17-mile climb up to Atlanta. This time of year, the morning air is supremely crisp and the light is beautiful.
Made it!
This is one of the first old-timer structures you come to when you roll into town. There are quite a few. Some are in better shape than others.
A colorful, local residence.
Every town needs a library.
If you want something to eat or drink that you didn’t pack in, the Beaver Lodge is the only place to go in Atlanta. Cortney and I took a break from the heat and had a BLT and some much-needed electrolyte-filled beverages. It was nice.
Despite being off the beaten track, the place was crowded with ATV and dirt bike people. Most of these ATVers come in dressed in shorts and flip-flops, drinking a domestic beer. So yeah, as the only cyclists, we got some funny looks. And even though we weren’t packing heat or sipping koozie-swadled Michelob Ultras, everyone was friendly. As different as we were, it’s about a shared love of the outdoors and enjoying a beautiful day in a ruggedly awesome place.
The ride back to camp offered a lot of downhill and we traveled at a luxurious pace. So we were able to enjoy the scenery and cool off in any precious shade along the way. It was an afternoon well spent.
At the Willow Creek campground, we packed up the bikes and the gear and took a quick dip before heading down along the reservoir and back to the valley. We came across this fully-submerged old truck in the river, slowly being reabsorbed by the earth. I love how the bed is full of river rocks. It makes me think about how everything in nature—and our lives—is constantly evolving and in a state of change.
Speaking of change…
In this moment, we’ve been back in our house for a few days, and it’s beyond surreal. We’re still figuring out how we feel about it. This year has been incredible, emotional, and transformative. I’m not sure what I thought it would be like when we got back. The neighborhood, the people, and the house are all the same—the only thing that’s changed is us.
As we settle in, Cortney and I are already dreaming up what’s next. It’ll take some time, but there’s definitely another big trip in our future. For now, we’re excited to explore closer to home, dive into new plans and projects, and continue sharing our adventures. This short getaway felt like the perfect way to wrap up an unforgettable year and officially transition back to our home.
We’ve been fortunate to live outside the box for a year. It’s time for us to go back in. Wish us luck!
-Erik
Thank you for sharing all of the joys and the agonies. Your writing gathered us in and let us feel we were with you. Enjoy whatever you dream up as your “next”.
Thank you for your love and support, Cathi!!
Sounds like a good trip- it’s kind of fun to be the only cyclist sometimes- you certainly get a different perspective on the world. As you more fully settle into your house and old life. I hope you can avoid the dreaded post-trip depression, where you look around and ask yourself “why I am doing this again?”
-Bruce