Destination: Idaho : Created from Earth’s fiery volcanic depths, Craters of the Moon National Monument recalls lunar landscape

The heat from a searing sun chased me as I scrambled up the slopes of the cinder cone peak. It was an appropriate accompaniment to the awesome, distorted landscape born of the Earth’s superheated womb.

My imagination was likewise overheated trying to grasp what massive forces had created Craters of the Moon, a spectacular and little-visited national monument. It lies on the edge of Idaho’s Snake River Valley, itself a great crescent of flatland stretching across the southern part of a state that otherwise is one of the most mountainous in the nation.

Although I had never before climbed one of the massive craters, this was my second visit to an area that had intrigued me even as a child growing up in Idaho. It was fabled as an excellent place to hike, climb and explore, but for kids it was a legend--the one spot on Earth that was exactly like the moon.

On that first visit in the ‘40s, when the present excellent two-lane paved highway that cuts across the northern edge of Craters of the Moon (combined U.S. routes 26, 20 and 93) was a narrow, oiled-dirt road, I had driven hurriedly past the area while returning from a camping trip. As the scenery sped by, I vowed to return soon.

“Soon” stretched into years, and when I finally had the opportunity last August, I found the region to be almost exactly like the desolate planet I had envisioned as a child. My all-too-short trip included some pleasurable adventures driving across southeastern Idaho, climaxed by a day spent exploring Craters of the Moon, from cinder cone top to caves below.

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The rising sun was peering over 9,000-foot Mt. Putnam on the day I drove out of my boyhood hometown of Pocatello on Interstate 15, heading northeast for the town of Blackfoot, 25 miles away. There I would swing off the interstate and follow U.S. 26 another 85 miles to the Craters. The drive itself became a fascinating impromptu stop-and-go tour.

Speeding across the Ft. Hall reservation, home of the Shoshone-Bannock, I braked when I saw a billboard advertising the Ft. Hall Trading Post. (The Shoshone may have been the first North Americans to see Craters of the Moon: They crossed the desolate land while making annual migrations and referred to two frozen rivers of lava as Blue Dragons and Great Serpents. The names are still used.)

Ft. Hall Trading Post turned out to be a small complex of stores that looked as familiar as a dusty movie set. Behind the clapboard storefronts were a surprisingly large and totally modern supermarket, a post office, a restaurant that served buffalo burgers (buried under mounds of crisp Idaho French fries) and a store called the Clothes Horse Trading Post.

Operated by Native Americans, as are all the stores and the post office in Ft. Hall Trading Post, the Clothes Horse was jammed with cowboy boots, Stetsons, Levi’s, handwoven blankets, ceremonial Native American objects and imported trinkets. The most interesting displays were of handmade Shoshone-Bannock goods--from beautifully beaded moccasins and gloves to skillfully fashioned vests--I admired them without any intention of buying.

A short time later, I emerged carrying a diminutive, deerskin-clad Native American doll holding a papoose ($39) and beaded moccasins ($59) that I now wear as slippers. They still have that faintly pungent smell of the sagebrush smoke used to preserve the hide.

I again headed for Craters with no thought of stopping, until I was captivated by another sign in the town of Blackfoot. It beckoned me to the Idaho Potato Exposition museum that is housed in the charming old Union Pacific railroad depot, which was marked by a giant statue of a potato. Inside were dozens of educational exhibits highlighting the history of the potato, including displays of antique machinery and what is said to be the world’s largest potato chip.

A young woman who looked like a cowgirl in her beaded vest and dark skirt collected the nominal entrance fee. She was deeply absorbed in a copy of Gourmet magazine as I entered, and explained that she was studying how to write recipes for a potato cookbook she was compiling, based on the numerous dishes Idaho families prepare with the state’s best-known crop.

The museum was, perhaps, more agricultural than I would have preferred, but I did walk away with a cooking tip from the attendant: Never bake potatoes in aluminum foil; just cook them unwrapped and eat with butter, skin and all.

Driving along the flat, 60-mile stretch from Blackfoot to the town of Arco, farmlands irrigated with aerial sprinkler systems--some hundreds of yards long--gave way to vast, arid reaches of gray sagebrush slashed occasionally with low, wall-like strips of black lava.

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Arco is a sunbaked town of only 1,200 residents, two small cafes and an international claim to fame as the first city in the world to be lighted by atomic energy. For a few minutes in 1955, the power was provided by the Idaho National Engineering Laboratory in what was the first such experiment ever.

Beyond Arco, the monotony of the sagebrush countryside was interrupted by small stands of cedar and spruce. As I cruised northwest along the virtually empty U.S. 26, the land became more hilly while the highway wound its way toward the mountains beyond. Only a small sign at the top of a rise indicated that I had actually entered Craters of the Moon National Monument.

I was suddenly aware that the rolling hills had been replaced by cone-shaped mounds, hundreds of feet high. They had been created by cinders falling from intermittent fierce, small volcanic eruptions along the Great Rift, a 75-mile seam in the earth’s crust from which the molten lava that still bubbles far beneath the surface has repeatedly spewed. Although the volcanoes are dormant now, some scientists predict they’ll become active again in the next 300 years, give or take 100.

To the south, as far as I could see, was an ocean of stony lava flanked by cinder cones. The most visible plant life were patches of sagebrush and slow-growing limber pine.

My first stop was the visitor center. I walked into an exhibit room where a few kids and parents were waiting to see a video about the birth of this strange region. We watched as the film re-created how the Earth exploded in hellish fury to make Craters of the Moon, in eruptions probably beginning about 15,000 years ago and ceasing only 2,000 years ago.

Among the many brochures, videocassettes and books on display was a free map and guide that began: “What appears monotonous at first is really a landscape of surprises.” This is precisely what Craters of the Moon turned out to be.

Paul Lloyd-Davis, the national park ranger on duty, said visitors can see much of the 54,000-acre park in a few hours by driving a seven-mile loop road and stopping for occasional walks to inspect volcanic phenomena on self-guided trails.

Although I did not take them, he recommended free, ranger-guided walks and evening lectures and programs exploring both the formation of the craters and the park’s extensive plant and wildlife. Lectures and programs are held in an amphitheater near the visitor center.

On my slow drive around the loop--a ribbon of road atop endless lava--I stopped periodically to climb towering cinder cones, peer into craters hundreds of feet deep, stroll through Devil’s Orchard--where the “trees” are actually large chunks of lava known as cinder crags--and to marvel at the myriad forms and colors of lava that at first appear dark brown, almost black, but actually are marbled with many soft colors.

I learned that the two most common forms of lava have Hawaiian names because much of the research on volcanology is done in Hawaii. The two forms are aa [sic], sharp splinters of lava, and pahoehoe, smoother basalt shaped like frozen prehistoric snakes.

I went off to explore some of the tube caves formed when the exterior lava cooled while the molten rock underneath continued to flow. By the dim glow of a tiny flashlight, I gathered enough courage to make my way into Indian Tunnel cave, stumbling across hardened, jagged lava, a short distance into the eternal darkness. Although the Indian Tunnel ceiling is 40 feet high at its optimum, other tunnels are only large enough for crawling--an experience obviously not for the claustrophobic.

Other words of warning to amateur spelunkers: Carry your own flashlight, watch your head and wear hiking shoes. Sharp stalactite fingers reach down toward the unsuspecting scalp and the floor is splattered with jagged lava rocks. And some caves contain ice all year, making exploration slippery. Swallows, ravens and horned owls often nest near the entrances. The tubes are also home to a species of blind insect and bats, although the bats are not found in places that are heavily visited but congregate in caves that are closed to the public for the bats’ protection. (A good map of the caves is available for 50 cents in canisters near entrances to some of the caves.)

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Driving slowly back to the visitor center, I felt a sense of gratitude for the vision of Robert Limbert, who first explored the region in 1918 and campaigned ceaselessly to get it the protection of a rare natural resource.

In a 1924 article in National Geographic magazine he wrote: “No more fitting tribute to the volcanic forces which built the great Snake River Valley could be paid than to make this region into a national park.” He predicted that while it was almost totally unknown, “This section is destined some day to attract tourists from all America, for its lava flows are as interesting as those of Vesuvius, Mauna Loa or Kilauea.” President Calvin Coolidge was apparently so impressed that that same year he issued a proclamation establishing Craters of the Moon National Monument.

In 1970, Congress set aside the lava-covered lands to the east and south of the Monument as Craters of the Moon Wilderness Area.

No roads are allowed by law to penetrate the monument’s wilderness section, which has been set aside as a place preserved in a pristine, natural state. But it can be explored on foot. Permits are required for hikers who venture into the north section, but the remainder is open to those who wish to hike. In addition to everything else they pack in, hikers must also carry water. Not a single stream or tiny spring can be found.

Back at the visitor center, I read that in the mid-1840s, pioneers in their creaking covered wagons rolled across this land on a detour around the Oregon Trail. One pioneer described the scene in his diary as “a land of desolation and awful waste.” True, but for small and large children alike, a visit here is next best thing to a walk on the moon.

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GUIDEBOOK

A Walk on a Moonscape

Getting there: From LAX fly to Boise either direct or with a change of planes on Southwest, United, Delta and Alaska or to Twin Falls on Delta. Advance-purchase, round-trip fares start at about $278. Or fly to Idaho Falls on Delta, about $324, or to Pocatello on Delta, about $363.

Craters of the Moon National Park can be reached by car only, but highways are lightly traveled and excellent.

Where to stay and eat: The park has no food services or gas stations. The nearest stores, restaurants, gas stations and motels are in Arco, 18 miles to the east, and the village of Carey, 24 miles to the west.

Ameritel Inn, 1440 Bench Road, Pocatello 83201; $61-$74; telephone (800) 600-6001.

Best Western Ameritel, 900 Lindsay Blvd., Idaho Falls 83402; $79-$169; tel. (208) 523-6000.

Best Western Cotton Tree Inn, 1415 Bench Road, Pocatello 83201; $56-$150; tel. (208) 237-7650 or (800) 528-1234.

Holiday Inn Westbank, 475 River Parkway, Idaho Falls 83402, $95; tel. (800) 432-1005.

Quality Inn, 1555 Pocatello Creek Road, Pocatello 83201; $47-$69 per night, double occupancy; tel. (208) 233-2200.

Shilo Inn, 780 Lindsay Blvd., Idaho Falls 83402; $65-$195; tel. (208) 523-0088.

Camping: A campground with 52 sites sandwiched between craggy lava formations is located near the park visitor center. The cost: $10 per site per night. Water and latrines are available. There are no RV hookups.

Backpacking: Backpacking is permitted throughout the year, but the most comfortable months are April to May and September to October. During the summer, ground temperatures climb past 100 degrees.

For more information: Craters of the Moon National Monument, P.O. Box 29, Arco, ID 83123; tel. (208) 527-3257.

Idaho Travel Council, P.O. Box 83720, Boise 83720-0093; tel. (800) 635-7820 or (208) 334-2470.