Driving along the freeway I was in awe of the wide, blue Snake River that wound along the bottom of a draw below the road. I've traveled along the Columbia River many times in my travels and have always been enthralled by the depth and breadth of it. And the way it is in constant motion with white caps, and movement. I've also rafted the Snake in the Hells Canyon and felt it's power and energy as the large raft bounced, nearly folded, and recovered in the rapids. But this portion of the Snake River along Hwy 86 runs slow and languid. The blue stretching from shore to shore like a large mirror. I kept staring at it imagining when it becomes the river I know from my rafting trip.
I pulled my gaze from the river and spotted a sign that said Historical Site Register Rock. So I swung off the freeway and followed a paved road two miles back the way I'd traveled and found a small pristine picnic area and a large rock surrounded by chain link fence.
The First historical western romance I wrote had a bit in it about the Oregon Trail. But that's one book that will never see the light of day. It was a practice book. ;)
If I find anything interesting today, I'll toss it up tomorrow.