tenderfoot.

It looked like Narnia from the comfort of my heated Kia. We stayed in a lodge that was almost as affordable as a campsite because we got the “Winter Special.” Nothing else in town was open except the restaurant next to the lodge. Included in the special were coupons for free drinks and 10% off our meals. We also received a free hour in the personal hot spring down the mountain. It was a win, win, win situation. Stanley, ID was quaint with a population of 63. I loved Idaho but I wasn’t sure I could be number 64.

On our way to Utah, we drove into the next town full of outfitters, countless coffee shops, and a ski lodge. Once I had my coffee in hand, I gazed up at the Sawtooths and said, “I could live here.” Ever since, I’ve been counting Sawtooth mountains instead of sheep when I can’t sleep. I think this feeling is rare, so I have to investigate it.

(Photo by http://hubhomedesign.com/ketchum-id)

But look at this photo I didn’t take! Unreal. I head out as a tenderfoot to Ketchum, ID, population of 2,689, in a couple weeks. I will work on a tree farm for a month doing help exchange while I find an apartment and job. Part of the intrigue is that I will not know anyone; this will be a crucial part of my “Making Friends After Your Twenties” book. I will write down my attempts to make myself part of their community. I will be a tenderfoot cross country skier and I hope to be employed as a barista or bartender, but I’m pretty open to whatever may come as number 2,690.