Cities In Southeast Idaho
Okay, friend. Let’s talk about Southeast Idaho. Not the resorty bits up north, but the real, gritty, surprisingly charming bottom half. You might drive through it on I-15 and...
Okay, friend. Let’s talk about Southeast Idaho. Not the resorty bits up north, but the real, gritty, surprisingly charming bottom half. You might drive through it on I-15 and think, “Wow, that’s a lot of potatoes.” And sure, you’d be right. But you’d also be missing a whole weird, wonderful world.
First up, let’s talk about Pocatello. People love to make fun of its name, but that’s part of its charm. It’s a railroad town with a serious case of identity crisis—is it a cowboy town? A college town? Yes. It’s both, and it wears those hats proudly.
You’ve got Idaho State University right there, which means there’s surprisingly good coffee and a few dive bars where you can hear live bluegrass. But also? The Portneuf River runs right through it. In winter, it freezes over and people walk on it. I’m not kidding. Is that safe? Who knows. But it’s a vibe.
Then there’s Idaho Falls. Don’t let the name fool you—there are no vertical falls here. It’s more of a wide, dramatic shelf of water right next to a river walk. Local legend says the glow from the city lights makes the water look like a green milkshake at night. I believe it.
And the food? It punches above its weight. You can get a killer breakfast burrito from a gas station, or sit at a sushi place that would impress a coastal snob. The secret is that people here get bored, so they open restaurants. Our boredom is your delicious gain.
Now, Blackfoot. Oh, Blackfoot. It’s the self-proclaimed “Potato Capital of the World.” They have a giant potato statue downtown. You have to take a selfie with it. It’s the law.
But here’s the real deal: Blackfoot hosts the Eastern Idaho State Fair every September. It smells like fried dough, livestock, and regret—in the best way. You will see a steer named “T-Bone” and a child winning a ribbon for a pie. It’s relentless Americana.
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Heading south, you find Preston. You might know it as the town where Napoleon Dynamite was filmed. Yes, really. And no, it’s not a movie set. That’s just how it actually looks. The thrift stores are incredible, and the air smells faintly of sagebrush and nostalgia.
Every year, Preston hosts the “That’s What She Said” festival, which is a Napoleon-themed party. There’s a dance-off. There’s tater tots. People ride bikes with giant plastic dinosaurs. It’s ridiculous. It’s glorious. Go.
Don’t sleep on Rexburg. It’s home to Brigham Young University-Idaho. That means it’s very clean, very quiet, and the streets are basically paved with good intentions. You’ll find the best cinnamon rolls of your life in a tiny bakery there. Also, everyone is incredibly polite—it’s a little unnerving at first.
But outside of town, things get wild. The Mesa Falls are a short drive away. They are massive. They roar. You can feel the spray from a quarter mile away. It’s nature showing off, and you are just there to say “whoa.”
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Then there’s Montpelier. Tiny, sleepy, and with a history you won’t see coming. It was a major stop on the Oregon Trail. There’s a museum that feels like a time capsule, and a diner that serves pies so good you might cry. The locals wave at you from their trucks. Every single time.
And let’s talk about the land itself. It’s not dramatic like the Rockies. It’s softer. Rolling hills that look like a green corduroy, then burst into amber in the fall. The Bear River Range looms in the distance. It’s the kind of landscape that makes you want to drive a pickup truck and listen to country music, even if you usually hate it.
What’s the catch, you ask? The wind. Oh, the wind. It is a personality. In some parts, it howls so hard you lean into it. You will learn to tie down your trash cans, and you will respect the gusts. But the trade-off? Sunsets. Pinks and purples and oranges that look like a painting by a god who just learned how to use watercolors.
So, is Southeast Idaho the most exciting place on earth? No. It’s not trying to be. It’s a place where you can hike for two hours and see exactly zero other humans. Where you can eat a potato in twenty different ways. Where people will nod at you like they know you—even if they don’t.
It’s a little weird, a little quiet, and completely unforgettable. Go for the potatoes. Stay for the unexpected peace. And maybe for the giant concrete spud. You know you want to see it.
