THE FRONT ROW WITH MARK NELKE: Sunday, July 24, 2016

The state of Idaho doesn’t make a lot of news nationwide, which is mostly a good thing.

When those on the outside look at our fine state, they usually think one of two things — what North Idaho used to be known for nationally (that stuff that used to go on in Hayden) and what southern Idaho is known for (that stuff that becomes tasty french fries).

Oh well, their loss.

While living in Salt Lake City for a few years growing up in the early 1970s, Idaho was a state we drove through on the way back home to Oregon on vacation. Twin Falls was an exit to zoom past on the way to Boise, where we would stop for the night at what would now generously be called a “budget” motel — the Boise Hyatt Lodge, later renamed The Boisean, eventually bulldozed in favor of apparent progress, perhaps a strip mall.

It was located across the street from Boise State University, not that I remember that at the time. But what we liked about the motel was it had its own convenience store on the property. Looking back, I don’t remember how “convenient” it actually was, but as a little kid, just to have a store of any kind as part of your motel … “Mom!” “Dad!”

JUMP AHEAD to 1974, and there’s Idaho — and Twin Falls in particular — making the national news.

By then we had moved to Spokane — taking that same route through southern Idaho and into eastern Oregon, but this time continuing north into eastern Washington.

I remembered motorcycle daredevil Evel Knievel from his previous attempts — he jumped over cars, he jumped over Pepsi delivery trucks, he jumped over buses. He usually succeeded, even though he often was involved in spectacular crashes afterward, which made for good television, if not for good health.

Fans loved it. Unlike recent jumps televised by ESPN on New Year’s Eve, where there are hours of buildup, followed by a safe, no-sweat jump, Evel’s performances matched the hype. The crashes only added to the legend. He attempted feats most of us could only dream of doing, and when completed, they often would end with a violent pileup. He would be shaken up, often broke a few bones. But he would pick himself off the ground, rest up, heal up, and come back after a little while and try it again.

Sort of like they do in the NFL.

On this occasion in ’74, Evel Knievel was planning to jump the Snake River Canyon, just outside Twin Falls, in a rocket. Unlike many of his other jumps to date, which were shown on network television, this one was limited to closed-circuit TV, shown in theatres to a far smaller audience.

So most of us didn’t get to see the jump until we saw the “highlights” during halftime of Monday Night Football the following day.

As you may recall, his parachute deployed prematurely, shortly after takeoff, and neither Evel nor his rocket made it across the Snake River Canyon. Other than a few bumps and bruises, Evel was fine.

SO THAT was about it for Twin Falls on the national stage until recently, when modern-day stuntman Eddie Braun announced he’s going to try to replicate Evel’s jump in September.

It won’t be the same without Evel — the Butte, Mont., native who died in 2007 at age 69 — or the little motel in Boise with the funky convenience store to stop at along the way.

If our little state really needed the publicity, maybe they could bring one of those jumps to North Idaho, to our, much prettier, neck of the woods.

Maybe someone could try to jump over Lake Pend Oreille, or Lake Coeur d’Alene, or, if they’re really ambitious, they could build a super-powered rocket and try to jump clean over North Idaho — taking off in Liberty Lake, just before the Washington border, and landing on the Montana side of Lookout Pass.

That would be a better way for the nation to remember North Idaho than, well, you know, that other thing.

Mark Nelke is sports editor of The Press. He can be reached at 664-8176, Ext. 2019, or via email at mnelke@cdapress.com. Follow him on Twitter@CdAPressSports.