Battle Mountain

In 1999, there was a great “Emigrant Trail” museum out in a cinderblock building north of the freeway. The docent had some great stories (including how the Donner Party kindly blazed a trail down Emigrant Canyon in Salt Lake City that saved the Mormons when they arrived a couple years later). I also learned the difference between cows, oxen, and bulls, and saw a wooden odometer used on a real emigrant wagon!

It was named “Armpit of the US” by the New York Times. It is pretty slim on attractions, but I made an extensive search of the town for the fabled T Shirts that proclaim the town’s “honorary” title, and all the people I met were really nice. However, I wont be moving there soon or anything.

which was Saturday, August 24th, I stopped to get a coke in the convenience store at the Flying J. The gas was too expensive so I decided to wait until another town. The clerk, a guy who looked about my age, asked me out for a drink. I told him that I would be long gone by that evening, which was certainly the truth.

I think life in Battle Mountain might have started to get to him.

I don’t know if it’s actually worth visiting or not, but I did live there for 6 years and didn’t want to leave when it was time to move away. In retrospect, I’m glad I did though, because I got to discover how awesome Idaho is.