Craters of the Moon Historic Context Statements

Recreation and Tourism in the Craters of the Moon Region, 1924-1942:
OVERVIEW OF RECREATION AND TOURISM ON THE SNAKE RIVER PLAIN

In the nineteenth century few tourists envisioned the Snake River Plain as a vacation paradise. The monotonous desert landscape compelled travelers to view it more as a place to cross and survive, rather than as a place to appreciate for its scenery. Often by chance pleasing natural features or panoramas presented themselves, much to the relief of overland travelers. One exceptional natural wonder, flowing deep in the basalt canyons of the Snake River, was Shoshone Falls. Its beauty mesmerized a handful of explorers and sightseeing adventurers in the 1860s and 1870s. They likened it to Niagara Falls, symbol of the young nation's sublime natural grandeur, and though published accounts of Shoshone Falls reached an eastern audience, only a small number of intrepid tourists found their way to this distant part of the country. Like the plain itself, Shoshone Falls was difficult to reach, and the predominately genteel tourists of the time favored the lavish hotels and fancy resorts of the Southwest and California. Just as important, these tourists traveled to their exclusive destinations on the newly finished transcontinental railroad, a trip conducted in both comfort and style. [1]

Thus, the completion of the Oregon Short Line across southern Idaho by 1884 exerted a considerable influence on tourists' perceptions of the Snake River Plain. The railroad conquered distance and time and improved the comforts of travel. With improved transportation facilities came expanded vacation opportunities and destinations on the once-reviled plain. Railroad publicists, the state immigration agency, and local boosters, looking to sell the territory's wonders to the nation, extolled the plain's scenic beauties in the late nineteenth century. Guide books and other literature lured tourists here primarily to see Shoshone Falls, the "Niagara of the West," but the publications also lauded the region's healthful environment, from its dry climate to its curative hot springs. Along with hot springs, guest ranches and resort hotels were common enterprises within reach of main and branch lines around the turn of the century. All of these benefited from the Union Pacific's promotion of scenic excursions, tourist developments, and the sale of its vast land holdings to prospective settlers. [2]

How they arrived--and more so what scenic splendors they sought out--told much about tourists in the Snake River country. In the boundless volcanic plain, the falling water of Shoshone Falls captured the most interest of nineteenth-century sightseers; hot springs, such as those found at Hailey, were also a popular destination. An interest in sublime scenery and healing waters reflected national trends in tourism. Disenchantment with continued urban-industrial growth and a concern for physical health around the turn of the century spurred many Americans to seek relief and spiritual comfort in the great outdoors. Whether bird watching, soaking in spas, or climbing mountains, tourists favored familiar sights--picturesque peaks, lakes, and rivers--to endless tracts of desert. City dwellers from the burgeoning population of Spokane, Washington, for example vacationed in northern Idaho. They retreated from the confines of their urban environment and the hot summers of the Palouse country to the cool and quiet forests, rugged mountains, glacial valleys, and beautiful lakes of the nearby Coeur d'Alene country. Southern Idaho, though to a lesser degree, was no exception. [3]

Around the turn of the century, for example, Idahoans proposed setting aside Shoshone Falls as a national park in order to save it from the destructive processes of water-power projects. They also wanted to preserve the falls for its intrinsic qualities and its tourist potential. Though the movement failed, it reflected a change in perceptions about the value of the Snake River Plain. Of particular significance was that many of the natural wonder's numerous visitors hailed from Idaho. By 1890, the young state's population had increased by 171 percent over the previous decade, from 32,000 to 84,000; it had almost doubled to 161,000 by 1900, and leaped to 430,000 in 1920. Many residents lived in cities, a trend common in a nation now more urban than rural. Beset by big-city problems, Idahoans expressed an appetite for the outdoors and an affinity for rural virtues. [4]

Improved roads contributed significantly to these changes. The Good Roads movement flourished across the country in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Politically active reformers rallied for federal assistance to improve farm-to market routes and postal delivery to rural areas--roads that would eventually lead urban dwellers from town to country. Overall, the highway movement reflected the beliefs of Progressive-minded Americans that better roads would improve rural life, stem the tide of rural migration to cities, and expand commercial opportunities for both rural and urban citizens. By doing so, good roads advocates helped form a national road building program run by the federal government, which, to this end, passed highway legislation in 1916 and 1921 to construct the nation's first road system. [5]

Changing views of nature, and the popular cry for better roads, were also aided by the dawn of the automobile age. Between 1910 and 1920, automobile ownership skyrocketed throughout the country from less than half a million owners to a staggering figure of more than 8 million. The popularity of the automobile, as both a personal plaything and a practical agent of transportation, was linked not only to improved roads but also to affordable prices, symbolized by the Model-T Ford. Prior to the Model-T, automobiles were toys for the rich, but Henry Ford's design changed that, creating a durable, mass produced, and cheaply priced automobile within range of every American. Free to travel where and when as they pleased over better roads, urban Americans, who worked less and recreated more by the 1920s, escaped the city for the country in their cars. [6]

Idaho's urban residents displayed similar traits. Although Idahoans were slow to adopt the automobile in the early 1900s, they outpaced the national average for automobile ownership by 1920, primarily because of the state's flurry of road construction throughout the decade. With the state's network of roads in place, even the previously inaccessible recesses of the Snake River Plain were within reach of Idahoans as well as other motoring Americans. [7] Free to see the plain on their own terms, from the safety of their motorized buggies, scenic tourists were more inclined to find the once- maligned region less threatening and more appealing.

It was in this atmosphere, when wild and dangerous nature was seemingly transformed into nature tamed by roads and cars, that state promoters hoped to capitalize on some of the excitement surrounding auto tourism. In the years after World War I, national parks formed a popular destination for sightseeing motorists. Many traveled to the parks over the Park-to-Park Highway, a formal route that covered six thousand miles and eleven western states, connecting the West's premier nature preserves. Scenic boosters were also anxious to join the "See America First" campaign--a patriotic movement to market American scenery as superior to Europe's natural marvels in the years surrounding World War I. To do so, Idaho promoters adopted the slogan "See America First: Begin with Idaho." Even though the "See Idaho First" literature extolled the state's scenic mountain wonders, "beautiful bodies of water," roaring streams, and therapeutic hot springs as unparalleled by anything in Europe, it suggested that the volcanic country was unique as well. [8] In this regard, few boosters could match the ebullience of Boise's Robert W. Limbert. Believing that tourism was the future of the state's economy, Limbert, a man of many callings--taxidermist, explorer, and photographer, to mention a few--publicized Idaho's diverse geography mostly through photographic essays. He helped sell Idaho to the nation beginning with an exhibit at the 1915 World's Fair in San Francisco. Soon after he turned his attention to unknown places in Idaho like Craters of the Moon. He explored and advertised its wonders to the country in illustrated articles which appeared in such widely circulated journals as National Geographic. His promotion greatly aided in lifting the veil of obscurity from the lava country and made it a place of national renown. The ultimate statement of his efforts was the monument's establishment in 1924. Moreover, his promotional endeavors bolstered the efforts of those in the Lost River country who hoped to save the young state's spectacular volcanic country as well as cash in on its potential for scenic tourism. [9]

Throughout the 1920s and early 1930s, Limbert and others continued to tout the Snake River Plain's superlative natural scenery and stressed the region's image as a "last frontier" to an urban nation: Yet the opening of Sun Valley in the late 1930s somewhat altered this image of the frontier in Idaho with a more modern image, that of a destination ski resort. Sun Valley, while located in the Sawtooth Mountains, provided an important tourist draw to the Snake River region, particularly for tourists traveling between Yellowstone National Park and the mountains of central Idaho. Moreover, Sun Valley was the brainchild of Union Pacific Railroad mogul W. Averill Harriman. During the early years of the Depression, Harriman launched the development of the resort to boost his railroad's lagging passenger profits and to rival the best Europe could offer. Compared to other western sites, the slopes overlooking the old mining town of Ketchum were considered ideal--for their spectacular views, dry powder snow, and year round access from the Union Pacific's primary line at Shoshone. Built on a four-thousand acre ranch, Sun Valley opened in 1937 and soon became a world-class resort, primarily for the rich, yet it also influenced the development of other ski areas in the state, and contributed to the growth of tourism as one of the state's leading industries and largest employers. [10]

Scenic tourism had hardly reached its apex in the late 1930s. Recreational opportunities were still underdeveloped despite the establishment of Craters of the Moon, the opening of specialty areas like Sun Valley, and the creation of picnic sites and campgrounds in the state's expanse of national forests. As a recreational study concluded in 1939, many of these sites were far from population centers. More importantly, the study lamented the fact that the state's highway system traversed broad valleys and desert spaces, preventing the scenic tourist or traveler from seeing the state's true natural beauty--its mountains and forests. Only in these areas would they know the solemnity of nature's gifts, "the solitude and restfulness that always accompany the beauties of nature." [11] Evidently, not all were convinced of the Craters country's scenic value.