Part Two: A Rude Shock in Boise

The bus taking me to my draft physical in Boise rewound the last 150 miles of the route I had just driven from Berkeley. From Hailey, Idaho, where my P.O. box was, the old Greyhound rolled down the Big Wood River out of the mountains, through Shoshone and west along the Snake River to Boise. It was one more weird aspect, but not nearly the last, of my temporary “residence” in Idaho.

A Tale of Two Draft Boards

Last time I wrote about Sun Valley and its place in American ski history. But I didn’t tell the story in which Sun Valley saved my life. (Or at the very least prevented my children from being born Canadian.)

It Happened in Sun Valley

The last time I was in Sun Valley, Arnold Schwarzenegger, who was not yet the governator, broke his femur on the ski hill. The people I was with speculated about it: how big was the fall to have snapped a bone inside all that muscle?