David Gonzalez leaves Boise, in the northwestern United States, for a reservoir overnight just east of town, an easy and entertaining overlanding read set in a high desert river valley. Expect narrow one lane roads, soft sand, hot wind, calm water, and a rooftop tent that quickly feels like home, with a few friendly pointers tucked in for first timers
Upon glimpsing this heavily tree-lined river valley in the American West for the first time, French-Canadian fur trappers in the early 1800s exclaimed “Les bois!” Translated this means “the woods” with “boise” meaning “wooded”. By 1813, trapper John Reid established a fur trading post on the lower end of this same valley, establishing Boise as an officially named destination.
The Boise River water must have been a godsend to these early discoverers trekking through the bone-dry semi-arid climate. Today the average annual rainfall in Boise is just 11.5 inches. By comparison, Seattle, Washington, averages over three times more rainfall per year at 37.7 inches, but that’s like comparing apples and cumquats. Other cities with similar rainfall to The City of Trees include Fresno, California (11.0), and Tucson, Arizona (10.6), both of which are further south than Idaho’s capital. Yet, in the summertime, roads throughout Boise are crammed with pickup trucks and SUVs pulling all manner of watercraft, but to where in this dry climate? Turns out, the “where” is a couple of reservoirs east of Boise up the Boise River Valley – Lucky Peak Reservoir and Arrowrock Reservoir.
David Gonzalez: Lucky Peak Reservoir (left), Arrowrock Reservoir (right)
Both reservoirs were created by dams of the same name. They are long and narrow, constrained in width by the meandering valley carved by the river some 2 million years ago. Arrowrock Dam was built first, officially dedicated in October of 1915, and for a short time held the distinction of tallest dam in the world. The less distinct Lucky Peak Dam was dedicated more recently, in June of 1955.
Wikipedia: The dam under construction, 1914 (left) and Arrowrock Dam tour from Boise on the Oregon Short Line Railroad, 1912 (right)
These dams and their reservoirs were created to control and provide irrigation water for the broader Treasure Valley but also play host to summer swimmers, boaters, picnickers, hikers, and campers – a playground cooling locals and tourists alike.
Earlier in the summer I decided to explore Arrowrock Rd, past where the tarmac turns to dirt and Lucky Peak Reservoir splashes up against Arrowrock Dam at its headwaters. I had visited the asphalt’s end in my sports car before, but this time I pressed my pickup truck into service so that I could forge onto the silty arterial. I was richly rewarded. The road was just the right type of treacherous! Sure, Arrowrock Rd is pocked by holes and boulders and sections of molar-rattling washboard, but it’s also barely a car’s width wide in many places. With few guardrails beyond the dam and palm-sweating cliffsides down to the water, vigilance was required at every blind corner, and all the corners were blind.
David Gonzalez: Summertime on Arrowrock Reservoir Beach
Drive far enough out and you discover beaches, of a sort. Coarse, sand-like material becomes exposed as Arrowrock Reservoir’s stores of winter snow and spring runoff wane. There is even a paved boat launch at one location that facilitates, well, launching boats, but also serves as a thoroughfare for vehicles wishing to drive onto the beach. Before kids go back to school, these beaches are packed on the weekends with day trippers but also overnighters. Though way too crowded this day, I identified an isthmus that would make a perfect campsite and made a plan to return after school resumes and crowds abate.
David Gonzalez: Arrowrock Rd
So return I did. School started early in Boise, August 12th this year, so I didn’t have to wait too long. More importantly, my master plan worked like a charm. The alluring isthmus I spotted earlier was completely unencumbered by other members of my species since families were busy navigating the first week of school. Safely reaching the isthmus, I veered off the treacherous Arrowrock Rd onto the paved boat launch to get down near the water. While my fully camp-equipped truck is very capable, I am inexperienced at overlanding. My palms began perspiring as I imagined the many ways I might sink up to my axles in deep sand or the brown mud that began appearing closer to the reservoir shore. No cellular coverage combined with the splak-splak of my moist hands shuffling around the steering wheel fueled my increased heart rate across the beach sands. Then I arrived. The isthmus was perfect! A few truck adjustments later and my Magma rooftop tent was level, deployed, unzipped, and ready to deliver an entire afternoon and evening’s worth of commanding views.
David Gonzalez: Isthmus East of Boat Launch
Onto the back of the truck before departing I had thrown my Trek Rail, a full suspension electric-assist mountain bike with an impressive battery range. This bike is the perfect explorer. It will literally go anywhere, and the assistance gives me the confidence to push beyond my limits into the unknown. Plus, I am realizing the benefits of having a “dinghy” like those cars being towed behind mammoth motorhomes. Once parked and leveled in a campsite for the night, I am unmotivated to move my truck with rooftop tent and go exploring. Doing so requires stowing the rooftop tent and everything inside it. Instead, my bike can serve as my dinghy to venture off into the wild and explore or conceivably seek help should I find myself axle deep in sand or mud.
David Gonzalez: Trek Rail at Arrowrock Reservoir
Exploring was the plan for my afternoon, to pedal east on Arrowrock Rd until the reservoir dwindles down to a mere stream. Satellite mapping seemed to suggest there would be shade-bearing trees along the road. There were none, at least none big enough to provide relief from the searing afternoon temperatures. Fortunately, I had lots of fluids and stiff winds to help keep me from melting, so I remained undaunted. I changed into my mountain biking gear, clipped in, and headed out. The deep sand proved way more challenging than I expected as I rode my way to the boat launch to climb back up to Arrowrock Rd. I narrowly avoided several opportunities to sample the beach sand firsthand. Once on the mostly one-lane road, though, it was better packed and smooth sailing. The road followed the shore of the narrow reservoir with crazy diversions around long and skinny fingers before returning to the primary easterly direction. These fingers were often only partially filled with water, revealing captivating step-like striations.
David Gonzalez: Water Level in an Arrowrock Reservoir Finger
Emerging from each fascinating finger was yet another vista too intriguing to miss, so I kept pedaling and sweating. The riding was fast and furious. The geology dumbfounding. Finally, I reached my goal: the reservoir was just a river. I hopped off my bike, took a long pull off my no longer icy CamelBak, and stretched my always-tight hip flexors, all the while admiring this journey I shared with semi-arid climate water from reservoir to stream.
David Gonzalez: The River Filling The Reservoir
I confirmed my bike’s battery had plenty of juice left then began the 12.5-mile ride back to my campsite. Those winds that were keeping me cool turned out to be at my back on the ride out. I hadn’t noticed. Now they were headwinds, and more ferocious than before. That, combined with the absence of mystery around every corner, gnawed at my resolve. I had a long ride back… Many twists and turns and close encounters with vehicles later, I could finally see my campsite. And none too soon – I was baked, literally from the sun and exhaustion-wise. So much so, I opted for a shortcut. Instead of riding past my campsite to the boat launch I dropped off the end of Arrowrock Rd onto a super thick sand embankment. I believed as long as I kept my speed up I would float over the sand and vaguely guide myself down to the densely packed sand below. I was right, though the drop was harrowing.
Moments later I was back at my campsite and quickly realized the winds were too strong to deploy my shade awning. Plus, there was very little shade cast by my truck and Magma rooftop tent. I was miffed! I had been consoling myself for the last several miles of the ride that shade, and my icy cold bottle of Liquid IV, would douse my furnace. Instead, I had to resort to snuggling my camp chair right up against the truck so that my head was shaded.
Open, treeless beaches make shade non-negotiable. A Falcon 270° Awning creates real cover for lunch, naps, and gear staging protected from the elements by handling 75mph winds. Add walls for extra protection and privacy. Quick deploy, quick stow, so you can chase the light instead of fighting it.
Happily, the hydration did not disappoint, nor the handfuls of nuts, and the amount of shade was growing. Solace returned after a bit and flourished once my sand mates arrived – four rather sociable Mallard ducks. I remained baffled by what tidbits of sustenance they could possibly be foraging for in this desolate landscape, but their cheery company was much appreciated.
David Gonzalez: Back at Camp for the Evening
As I shuffled around rehydrating my dinner, I realized that sunset would arrive sooner than expected due to the surrounding mountains. So, after I ate and cleaned up, I stowed my trusty e-bike on the rack, turned down my bed, and then read a while longer as the sun was setting. I embraced the desolation and serenity. My duck-mates had returned home, as had nearly every other human. Exhausted, I drifted off mere moments after the sun escaped beyond the mountains. I did not dream. I did, however, wake up a bit after 5:00 AM to a very bright moon and a patchwork sky of clouds that left my mouth agape. I stood outside in the now refreshing and much milder breeze for quite a while, absorbing the unique symphony with nearby water lapping and far off birds cooing. Peaceful summed it up.
David Gonzalez: Sunset on Arrowrock Reservoir
Upon glimpsing this heavily tree-lined river valley some 700 years after the French-Canadian fur-trappers, from the saddle of my mountain bike brimming with space age electronics, it was still a godsend. The glistening reservoir water promised relief to me and the other friends and family with their watercrafts. The best part? All this merriment and respite from searing summer heat is just 45 minutes from downtown Boise.
David Gonzalez: Pre-Dawn on Arrowrock Reservoir
David Gonzalez is a tech veteran with 30+ years of experience applying his physics, computer science, and business prowess to helping early-stage companies innovate and accelerate across numerous industries including handwriting and voice recognition, mortgages, renewable energy, storm water management and mental health.
Intermingled amongst these professional endeavors, David is also a family man. While devoted to his wife of 30+ years and his three uniquely insightful and grown children, he remains an avid athlete, favoring soccer, cycling, skiing, tennis, hiking and any opportunity to get the family into the wild.
David’s ideal evening? That’d be sitting around a campfire with his family, eating from rehydrated food pouches and regaling each other with tales of greatness from the day.
Get acquainted
Limited Edition
Inspiriert von der rauen Struktur vulkanischer Lava, verleiht die Line-X-Beschichtung dem Magma ein unverwechselbares Aussehen und unübertroffene Haltbarkeit. Rote Details im gesamten Zelt erinnern an die feurige Energie von Magma und verleihen dem robusten Äußeren einen Hauch von Stil.
Want to have your own adventure?
Our specialists are here for any questions you might have, from car fitment to choosing the best tent for your needs, you can count on us.
David Gonzalez leaves Boise, in the northwestern United States, for a reservoir overnight just east of town, an easy and entertaining overlanding read set in a high desert river valley. Expect narrow one lane roads, soft sand, hot wind, calm water, and a rooftop tent that quickly feels like home, with a few friendly pointers tucked in for first timers
Upon glimpsing this heavily tree-lined river valley in the American West for the first time, French-Canadian fur trappers in the early 1800s exclaimed “Les bois!” Translated this means “the woods” with “boise” meaning “wooded”. By 1813, trapper John Reid established a fur trading post on the lower end of this same valley, establishing Boise as an officially named destination.
The Boise River water must have been a godsend to these early discoverers trekking through the bone-dry semi-arid climate. Today the average annual rainfall in Boise is just 11.5 inches. By comparison, Seattle, Washington, averages over three times more rainfall per year at 37.7 inches, but that’s like comparing apples and cumquats. Other cities with similar rainfall to The City of Trees include Fresno, California (11.0), and Tucson, Arizona (10.6), both of which are further south than Idaho’s capital. Yet, in the summertime, roads throughout Boise are crammed with pickup trucks and SUVs pulling all manner of watercraft, but to where in this dry climate? Turns out, the “where” is a couple of reservoirs east of Boise up the Boise River Valley – Lucky Peak Reservoir and Arrowrock Reservoir.
David Gonzalez: Lucky Peak Reservoir (left), Arrowrock Reservoir (right)
Both reservoirs were created by dams of the same name. They are long and narrow, constrained in width by the meandering valley carved by the river some 2 million years ago. Arrowrock Dam was built first, officially dedicated in October of 1915, and for a short time held the distinction of tallest dam in the world. The less distinct Lucky Peak Dam was dedicated more recently, in June of 1955.
Wikipedia: The dam under construction, 1914 (left) and Arrowrock Dam tour from Boise on the Oregon Short Line Railroad, 1912 (right)
These dams and their reservoirs were created to control and provide irrigation water for the broader Treasure Valley but also play host to summer swimmers, boaters, picnickers, hikers, and campers – a playground cooling locals and tourists alike.
Earlier in the summer I decided to explore Arrowrock Rd, past where the tarmac turns to dirt and Lucky Peak Reservoir splashes up against Arrowrock Dam at its headwaters. I had visited the asphalt’s end in my sports car before, but this time I pressed my pickup truck into service so that I could forge onto the silty arterial. I was richly rewarded. The road was just the right type of treacherous! Sure, Arrowrock Rd is pocked by holes and boulders and sections of molar-rattling washboard, but it’s also barely a car’s width wide in many places. With few guardrails beyond the dam and palm-sweating cliffsides down to the water, vigilance was required at every blind corner, and all the corners were blind.
David Gonzalez: Summertime on Arrowrock Reservoir Beach
Drive far enough out and you discover beaches, of a sort. Coarse, sand-like material becomes exposed as Arrowrock Reservoir’s stores of winter snow and spring runoff wane. There is even a paved boat launch at one location that facilitates, well, launching boats, but also serves as a thoroughfare for vehicles wishing to drive onto the beach. Before kids go back to school, these beaches are packed on the weekends with day trippers but also overnighters. Though way too crowded this day, I identified an isthmus that would make a perfect campsite and made a plan to return after school resumes and crowds abate.
David Gonzalez: Arrowrock Rd
So return I did. School started early in Boise, August 12th this year, so I didn’t have to wait too long. More importantly, my master plan worked like a charm. The alluring isthmus I spotted earlier was completely unencumbered by other members of my species since families were busy navigating the first week of school. Safely reaching the isthmus, I veered off the treacherous Arrowrock Rd onto the paved boat launch to get down near the water. While my fully camp-equipped truck is very capable, I am inexperienced at overlanding. My palms began perspiring as I imagined the many ways I might sink up to my axles in deep sand or the brown mud that began appearing closer to the reservoir shore. No cellular coverage combined with the splak-splak of my moist hands shuffling around the steering wheel fueled my increased heart rate across the beach sands. Then I arrived. The isthmus was perfect! A few truck adjustments later and my Magma rooftop tent was level, deployed, unzipped, and ready to deliver an entire afternoon and evening’s worth of commanding views.
David Gonzalez: Isthmus East of Boat Launch
Onto the back of the truck before departing I had thrown my Trek Rail, a full suspension electric-assist mountain bike with an impressive battery range. This bike is the perfect explorer. It will literally go anywhere, and the assistance gives me the confidence to push beyond my limits into the unknown. Plus, I am realizing the benefits of having a “dinghy” like those cars being towed behind mammoth motorhomes. Once parked and leveled in a campsite for the night, I am unmotivated to move my truck with rooftop tent and go exploring. Doing so requires stowing the rooftop tent and everything inside it. Instead, my bike can serve as my dinghy to venture off into the wild and explore or conceivably seek help should I find myself axle deep in sand or mud.
David Gonzalez: Trek Rail at Arrowrock Reservoir
Exploring was the plan for my afternoon, to pedal east on Arrowrock Rd until the reservoir dwindles down to a mere stream. Satellite mapping seemed to suggest there would be shade-bearing trees along the road. There were none, at least none big enough to provide relief from the searing afternoon temperatures. Fortunately, I had lots of fluids and stiff winds to help keep me from melting, so I remained undaunted. I changed into my mountain biking gear, clipped in, and headed out. The deep sand proved way more challenging than I expected as I rode my way to the boat launch to climb back up to Arrowrock Rd. I narrowly avoided several opportunities to sample the beach sand firsthand. Once on the mostly one-lane road, though, it was better packed and smooth sailing. The road followed the shore of the narrow reservoir with crazy diversions around long and skinny fingers before returning to the primary easterly direction. These fingers were often only partially filled with water, revealing captivating step-like striations.
David Gonzalez: Water Level in an Arrowrock Reservoir Finger
Emerging from each fascinating finger was yet another vista too intriguing to miss, so I kept pedaling and sweating. The riding was fast and furious. The geology dumbfounding. Finally, I reached my goal: the reservoir was just a river. I hopped off my bike, took a long pull off my no longer icy CamelBak, and stretched my always-tight hip flexors, all the while admiring this journey I shared with semi-arid climate water from reservoir to stream.
David Gonzalez: The River Filling The Reservoir
I confirmed my bike’s battery had plenty of juice left then began the 12.5-mile ride back to my campsite. Those winds that were keeping me cool turned out to be at my back on the ride out. I hadn’t noticed. Now they were headwinds, and more ferocious than before. That, combined with the absence of mystery around every corner, gnawed at my resolve. I had a long ride back… Many twists and turns and close encounters with vehicles later, I could finally see my campsite. And none too soon – I was baked, literally from the sun and exhaustion-wise. So much so, I opted for a shortcut. Instead of riding past my campsite to the boat launch I dropped off the end of Arrowrock Rd onto a super thick sand embankment. I believed as long as I kept my speed up I would float over the sand and vaguely guide myself down to the densely packed sand below. I was right, though the drop was harrowing.
Moments later I was back at my campsite and quickly realized the winds were too strong to deploy my shade awning. Plus, there was very little shade cast by my truck and Magma rooftop tent. I was miffed! I had been consoling myself for the last several miles of the ride that shade, and my icy cold bottle of Liquid IV, would douse my furnace. Instead, I had to resort to snuggling my camp chair right up against the truck so that my head was shaded.
Open, treeless beaches make shade non-negotiable. A Falcon 270° Awning creates real cover for lunch, naps, and gear staging protected from the elements by handling 75mph winds. Add walls for extra protection and privacy. Quick deploy, quick stow, so you can chase the light instead of fighting it.
Happily, the hydration did not disappoint, nor the handfuls of nuts, and the amount of shade was growing. Solace returned after a bit and flourished once my sand mates arrived – four rather sociable Mallard ducks. I remained baffled by what tidbits of sustenance they could possibly be foraging for in this desolate landscape, but their cheery company was much appreciated.
David Gonzalez: Back at Camp for the Evening
As I shuffled around rehydrating my dinner, I realized that sunset would arrive sooner than expected due to the surrounding mountains. So, after I ate and cleaned up, I stowed my trusty e-bike on the rack, turned down my bed, and then read a while longer as the sun was setting. I embraced the desolation and serenity. My duck-mates had returned home, as had nearly every other human. Exhausted, I drifted off mere moments after the sun escaped beyond the mountains. I did not dream. I did, however, wake up a bit after 5:00 AM to a very bright moon and a patchwork sky of clouds that left my mouth agape. I stood outside in the now refreshing and much milder breeze for quite a while, absorbing the unique symphony with nearby water lapping and far off birds cooing. Peaceful summed it up.
David Gonzalez: Sunset on Arrowrock Reservoir
Upon glimpsing this heavily tree-lined river valley some 700 years after the French-Canadian fur-trappers, from the saddle of my mountain bike brimming with space age electronics, it was still a godsend. The glistening reservoir water promised relief to me and the other friends and family with their watercrafts. The best part? All this merriment and respite from searing summer heat is just 45 minutes from downtown Boise.
David Gonzalez: Pre-Dawn on Arrowrock Reservoir
David Gonzalez is a tech veteran with 30+ years of experience applying his physics, computer science, and business prowess to helping early-stage companies innovate and accelerate across numerous industries including handwriting and voice recognition, mortgages, renewable energy, storm water management and mental health.
Intermingled amongst these professional endeavors, David is also a family man. While devoted to his wife of 30+ years and his three uniquely insightful and grown children, he remains an avid athlete, favoring soccer, cycling, skiing, tennis, hiking and any opportunity to get the family into the wild.
David’s ideal evening? That’d be sitting around a campfire with his family, eating from rehydrated food pouches and regaling each other with tales of greatness from the day.
Get acquainted
Limited Edition
Inspiriert von der rauen Struktur vulkanischer Lava, verleiht die Line-X-Beschichtung dem Magma ein unverwechselbares Aussehen und unübertroffene Haltbarkeit. Rote Details im gesamten Zelt erinnern an die feurige Energie von Magma und verleihen dem robusten Äußeren einen Hauch von Stil.
Want to have your own adventure?
Our specialists are here for any questions you might have, from car fitment to choosing the best tent for your needs, you can count on us.