“I bet that guy is staring at you because you’re pretty,” says my son.

Since I haven’t brushed my hair, I bet that guy isn’t staring because I’m pretty. He’s staring because we’re minorities. Woman with child. No beard among us. There’s no way we know what we’re doing.

But we do.

I efficiently back in my truck with the only Idaho license plate on this dirt road. Locals lose the Henry’s Fork of the Snake River to tourists in. . .