Heading south from Boise to Kuna, I travel in constant traffic. From Kuna to Swan Falls, the road is straight with long rolling hills. The desert landscape of lava rock and sagebrush lends itself to clear views of the horizon, which makes sharing the road safe for both motorists and bicyclists.

The traffic becomes lighter, but the large SUVs are now pulling boats. Amy and I are the only ones traveling by bicycle, with panniers and a bicycle trailer loaded with camping equipment but no room for motorized contraptions or a cooler full of booze. From observing my fellow Swan Falls recreationalists, I become worried about boredom on this adventure.

Will a day at the Snake River without petrol or booze be like celebrating Jesus’s birthday without gifts, enjoying Thanksgiving without a television, or being charitable without going through an approved organization?

When I reach the rim of the canyon and look down onto Swan Falls, I feel like a vegetarian who has walked into a steak house to find a green local salad bar with a sesame grilled tofu vegetarian option.

Swan Falls offers a park with large trees giving shade – perfect for picnics, bird watching, reading, writing, fishing and playing cards. The bathroom provides flushing toilets, a water fountain, and plenty of counter space to wash dishes. Beyond the park, a person can follow the rocky road to set up a tent in between the sagebrush.

As the boat people are getting ready to turn the Snake River into a busy roadway, my favorite activity, after a four and a half hour bike ride, is strip to my cycling shorts and go for a swim.

by Amy Lou Johnson published in the special MaryJaneFarm Magazine Stitchery Issue

My parents must have known I was destined to be a farmgirl. They gave me the farmgirl name Amy Lou and moved from my birthplace of Seattle to the rural town of Bowmont, Idaho, where I grew up running barefoot through the garden, snacking on fresh peas, carrots, strawberries, and apricots. Throughout my school-age years, I worked summers as the “fajita girl,” helping my dad sell food from his homemade mobile concession stand at small-town celebrations, fairs, and rodeos around southern Idaho. My dad was nicknamed the “fatija man” and known widely for his cumin-spiced, mouth-watering fajitas.

From my parents, I learned that a homegrown meal is pricelessly delicious. Wanting to learn about planting, harvesting, and preserving food is what led me to MaryJanesFarm. When MaryJane was named Idaho’s Progressive Businessperson of the Year, I was impressed! A woman, a farmer, and progressive business practices-hers was a name to remember! My desire to farm coincided with MaryJane’s book-signing tour, and as a landless apartment dweller in Boise wanting to get my hands in the soil, I asked MaryJane if she could use any volunteers on her farm. The answer was a month-long stay in a wall tent with days spent pitting cherries, harvesting garlic, blanching green beans, making sauerkraut, and pulling weeds.

This summer, I am working full-time as a farmhand while living in Moscow with my travel partner, Brandon Follett, who’s also working at the farm. We’re heading to Thailand at the end of the harvest season, and for now we are exploring northern Idaho reviewing omelets for our website, www.earthwormenvy.com. My parents taught me to live the fresh-vegetable lifestyle, and MaryJane demonstrates how to live it organically. In pursuit of sustainable living, I dream of raising chickens, goats, and a garden, and to open a cafe selling sustainable omelets.

THE AUTHENTICS

by Erin Ryan, The Idaho Statesman

Thanks to Brandon Follett and Amy Johnson, Barack Obama may soon share his thoughts on omelets and interstate transportation. The wandering artists teamed up in 2006 to travel, make films, bump heads (and mopeds) with ordinary people and write sociopolitical commentary cleverly disguised as omelet reviews.

Apparently, Obama enjoys an egg white and green pepper mixture in the morning, and Follett and Johnson saw this as a perfect vector to ask the presidential hopeful about his environmental policies as they relate to sustainable agriculture and economics.

All in a day’s work for the creative team behind Boise-based Earthworm Envy, a Web site that offers omelet reviews from around the world, essays, poems, blogs, links to like-minded local organizations and short documentary films on everything from Thai “ice cream” to the Cambodian legacy of John F. Kennedy’s hair.

But there is more to Johnson and Follett than multimedia gold. They are committed to living well, which just so happens to be green.

“I know what a tomato tastes like, so I can’t eat one from the store in January,” Johnson said. She and Follett grow their own or volunteer on organic farms, and what they do buy is as unprocessed, seasonal and socially responsible as possible. Bananas, for instance, are known as the Hummer of the fruit world because of the energy it takes to harvest and transport them, and Johnson refuses to buy them. And even though packaged organics seem green, Follett says they are a trendy offshoot of a deeper problem.

“The biggest thing is consumption. I think people need not to buy into the grand marketing scheme,” he said. “They want to be babysat, for legislation to be made, but you have to start with yourself. Maybe you just need to change your lifestyle … . What if I-84 is full of hybrid cars – does that change anything? And if you’re replacing your eco-friendly clothes every year because of fashion, what’s the point?”

To live as authentically as possible, they try to keep new purchases to a minimum by swapping with friends. They do not own cars and travel everywhere on their touring bicycles. Weather controls their activities to some extent, but neither feels inhibited.

“It’s a mindset change,” Johnson said. “People think I have to give up my freedom, but once you do it’s a different freedom.”

Their love of two-wheeled travel exploded during a six-month trip to southeast Asia last year, where they worked their way through Thailand, Cambodia and Laos as farmers, construction workers and teachers. They found that locals only used big vehicles for big jobs, and community support was integral to individual success.

“It’s about using what you have wisely. It’s just logic, common sense,” Follett said.

Back in Boise, he and Johnson are saving for a bike trek down through Mexico, where they will continue studying omelets and cultures that are closer to the earth.

“Our cities aren’t set up to be green, so it is a bit of a challenge,” Johnson said. “I don’t have a religion, but this is my morality. We have this abundance, so we need to take it upon ourselves to do these things. If I do have the money to buy a Hummer, maybe I’ll buy a park instead.”

Send an e-mail to earthwormenvy@yahoo.com, subject line “Send me the Zine” to enjoy the PDF of ”You Can’t Hide an Elephant in an Omelet” to read at your leisure.  The PDF file is set up so that you can print it or easily read it on your computer.  Pay with a donation of any amount to Earthworm Envy’s PayPal

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