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Folks come from miles around to see and be seen at Idaho’s Spud Drive-In
The Spud has been a fixture in Teton Valley since the early 1950s.
The summer sun dips behind the Big Hole Mountains to the west, turning the sky red, then purple. Finally, night falls and the silver screen lights up with the first feature movie of the night.
So begins another classic American evening at the Spud Drive-In.
If you haven’t been to a movie at the Spud, located along Idaho State Highway 33 two miles south of Driggs, then you haven’t glimpsed the soul of Teton Valley. This summertime hub has gained international fame, gracing the glossy pages of movie magazines and even National Geographic—but, more importantly, it maintains a record of local loyalty.
The Spud hosts thousands of visitors in the summer, as well as hundreds of hardy locals in both the summer and early spring, when it still looks and feels a lot like winter in Teton Valley. The drive-in has run continuously in the summers since opening on July 3, 1953.
“The classic experience is still there,” says owner Richard Wood. This despite his and wife Dawnelle’s efforts to update the movie technology over the years. “It’s not the place that is historical, it’s the atmosphere—it is a gathering place of the community, and has been for over fifty years.”
Rising out of the flats are the weather-beaten red beams of the Spud, built in the 1950s by Richard’s uncle, Ace Wood, in response to the growing popularity of drive-in movies and fast-food joints after World War II. At their peak in the ’50s, more than four thousand drive-ins graced the cities and small towns of the United States; today, the Spud is one of only approximately four hundred remaining.
“We’ve come to realize what an asset [the Spud] is to the valley,” Richard says. “It’s so much more than a place to see a movie. It’s a piece of history.” He recounts stories of valley couples who had their first dates at the Spud, and who have gone on to celebrate many years of marriage.
“I wonder how many valley kids were conceived here?” Richard asks, apparently only half joking.
“We wouldn’t have made it without the locals,” he adds. “They are our bread and butter; the tourists are the gravy.”
“Old Murphy,” the flatbed truck marking the entrance of the theater, holds what just may be the world’s largest potato. At any given time during the week, regardless of the season, commuters might see a car pulled to the side of the road, with someone opening the door and getting out to click a photo. The sign above the backside of the movie screen is painted like an Idaho “Famous Potatoes” license plate, personalized with THE SPUD. Just above that, jotted down as if on the license plate’s frame, are the words “Home of the Famous Gladys Burgers.”
Driving into the Spud for a double feature, visitors are typically greeted by Richard in the ticket booth, dressed in his uniform of denim overalls and “Spud” ball cap. Once your car or “outfit,” as pickup trucks are referred to in these parts, finds its way to one of the more than 175 parking spaces (and at the Spud, everyone has the best seat in the house), a quick trip to the snack bar couples as trip back in time. Richard and Dawnelle have memorialized the Spud and the valley in pictures, movie posters, and a wonderful old-fashioned jukebox. The ceiling is “tiled” with vinyl records and, in a corner, the popcorn machines turn out an endless supply of the mandatory hot-buttered movie treat for the masses.
Most nights, Dawnelle can be found behind the grill. If you’re a regular, you probably won’t even have to place your order; she already knows what you want and how you like it. The food complements the drive-in movie-going experience, with milk shakes, soda pop, French fries, and that magical fry dipping sauce.
Ace Wood sold the Spud early on to Gladys and Leo Davis. Richard and Dawnelle purchased it from them, thereby returning ownership to the Wood family. Dawnelle recalls that taking over management of the drive-in—one of just four Teton County, Idaho, listings on the National Register of Historic Places—was daunting, indeed.
“We were so overwhelmed the first time we opened,” she says, laughing. Dawnelle was behind the grill trying to get each of Gladys’ namesake burgers just right, she recalls, as Top Gun and, later, Crocodile Dundee, two of 1986’s biggest film hits, played to the crowd.
“It’s the pickle and not a lot of mustard,” Dawnelle says of the secret recipe handed down to her from Gladys. “She told me where to buy the pickle and where to buy the mustard. That’s all I got.”
Around dusk on any night in the summer months (except Sundays), the Spud’s grounds start filling up with pickup trucks; caravans of kids and dogs; those on dates, both young and old; first-timers and longtimers. For each double feature, Dawnelle tries to include a family-friendly movie, followed by a summer blockbuster or “date movie.” Richard has plans to add a touch of twenty-first century technology to the 1950s-era attraction soon, by installing a webcam—so folks can catch the sunsets to the west of the drive-in and, he says, “check the weather.”
It’s a perpetual local picnic, a party with your friends both old and new—all summer long, and for an admission price of just six dollars per person, or free for those eight and under. Perhaps the enterprise’s bumper sticker says it best: “Spud Drive-In Theater: How America Once Was!”
