Less traveled roads

The reporter's notebook

 

Last updated 6/21/2023 at 9:07am



When we used to return to Southern Idaho to visit my wife’s family, we were usually treated to something special by her brother, Robert Compton. He is still known affectionately as “Uncle Bob.”

This particular time we got in his car and headed to Jarbidge, Nevada.

We headed down Highway 93 to Rogerson, Idaho, where we turned west on a very questionable road. The road xsxsign said 28 miles to Jarbidge.

Jarbidge lies in Elko County, very close to the Idaho line.

The road follows a canyon with high mountains around. 

Soon my brother-in-law turned onto an old creek bed. He said it was part of the road into Jarbidge.

It wasn’t long until I was out of the car rolling large rocks out of the way so we wouldn’t get high centered.

We were in the creek bed for two or three miles, and I was in and out several times moving rocks to Bob’s pleasure.

We finally made it and it was what you would expect in an old mining town.

There was a lone cafe of sorts, so we went in. The owner was sitting at the counter, and the look on his face suggested that he wished we hadn’t come in.

He said that he didn’t have anything to eat, but then changed his mind and said that he had one hamburger patty and some cheese, and then seemed eager to sell us something. 

Now, I think he might have been the only person in town. He enjoyed telling us that a ranch worker had done some mining and found a little color. This was in 1880. That was as far as it went.

A large mining company came in in 1909, buying up claims and starting a serious mining effort.

That lasted just a few years, and the vision of Jarbidge growing to 10,000 sank with the afternoon sun.

Since then, when surfing their site, land for sale was the current message. Since our trip, some houses have been purchased and fixed up as summer homes.

The drive in would be worrisome if you had a home there.

“Uncle Bob” always took delight in taking your comfort from you.

Over the years when we went down to the Buhl area,

Bob would always coax us into going someplace with him.

When I first met Bob, he talked me into putting in for a hunting draw not too far south of Twin Falls. I can’t remember ever seeing so many deer. A large number of family members had their names drawn, and I remember helping put up a large canvas tent that he put a stove in. It was the first time I ever saw a tent with a stove pipe sticking through it.

 

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