Last fall, I spent seven weeks in the suburbs of Madison, Wisconsin, canvassing undecided voters for John Kerry. Driving back one day from a long session pounding the pavement, our car passed two young Mormon missionaries on bicycles. They were dressed in their standard garb: Grim but oddly stylish black suits, white shirts, skinny ties and backpacks, all of which were getting soaked in the rain as they struggled up a hill, standing on their pedals for extra leverage.
If it was not for my bi-weekly recycling trip, I would probably never get to this part of town, even with living in a relatively small town like Boise; work and play only require me to venture a few miles from my house, which is great but often leaves me at a loss for what is going on in the rest of my town.
As summer heats the Idaho landscape to a blistering 100-plus degrees, you can be thankful you don't live in Death Valley or Las Vegas, which is experiencing record temperatures this summer. It's still too hot for us northern folk, so it's time for a summer trip to one of the most scorched landscapes in Idaho so you can chill out.
One thing I'm in charge of is the Opinion section. I write all those smarmy comments to Mail contributors. I select the Guest Opinions to print when we have space. I make sure Bill Cope's story comes in each week even though he's as regular as a four-bowls-of-bran-a-day kinda guy.
Based on the nonfiction book of the same name by David Grann, the film seems like a cross between an Indiana Jones movie and a Joseph Conrad novel—one where the world seems full of possibilities, rather than limitations.
A North Idaho landscaping company puts racist images on its vehicles, Donald Trump vows to challenge the 9th Circuit's ruling against his immigration and sanctuary cities actions, and "high touch, high tech" initiatives at the city of Boise.