I stopped for lunch at Council, on the Weiser River, where firemen were dining and talking about a fire that'd been raging all morning. On to Cambridge which despite its academic name turned out to be another nowhere town built at a crossroads. The motel accommodation at Bucky's was tucked behind the café, and was either ramshackle or homey, depending on your state of mind. I think I went with homey, but then I'm a sucker for pine interiors and old sofas.
