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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/542153-1400-miles-later
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by Wren Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Book · Biographical · #1096245
Just play: don't look at your hands!
#542153 added October 16, 2007 at 8:11pm
Restrictions: None
1400 miles later
We've been driving, driving, driving-- at least Bill has. I've been staring out the windows hunting for wild animals and fall foliage to photograph. I'll try to post a few pictures tomorrow.

This whirlwind trip began Friday afternoon. We made it almost to Butte, Montana, to spend the night. Can't remember the town but the motel was called Rockers and had several comments on line about it, half of which gave it five stars. It was certainly worth every penny of $43. I haven't seen a motel that cheap in a while, but then I don't usually look in the middle of nowhere. It was freshly carpeted and painted, very clean and neat, and we were tired.

We reached West Yellowstone campground by Saturday noon-ish, but John and Karen had not yet arrived. So we drove up the road a bit, walked around the paint pots, as that bubbling geyser area is called, and returned to find them setting up camp. That's the first time we've seen Karen since she's been pregnant, and she looks great.

While I was getting something out of the car, I looked up and saw an elk about fifteen feet away, munching her way through the campground. After she ambled away, we went down to the river with our new custom-made gifts, fly rods in monogrammed cases for each of us. Bill bought a license; I opted to wait and try mine out at home, having very little helpful experience with a fly rod. They're much trickier to use than an ordinary casting rod, and I knew I would be happier practicing without an audience. I think Bill felt the same way, but of course he couldn't get out of it. John was really excited to have such terrific gifts for us, and he was happy trying mine out. Bill did quite well at getting the line out, but we didn't have any flies that attracted those trout; and it got cold quite quickly, so we didn't stay at it for more than an hour or so. In the meantime, a herd of elk came down to the other end of the park, a few down to the river, and so there was plenty to enjoy watching.

On the way to the park Saturday we'd been stopped by two cattle drives coming down the road. One cowboy told us to just keep driving, just go slow, and the cattle would part around us, and so they did.

Sunday we were stopped several times in the park by elk and buffalo, and even though the buffalo brushed the car as they walked past, we sat very still. Someone in the back seat wanted Karen to reach out and touch one. I could just see that massive head swinging around to investigate and putting a horn through the window. One female had a horn covered in fresh blood, and that was awful. We couldn't decide if it was hers, another bison's, or some human who didn't take the park signs to heart.

Came home Monday through the Craters of the Moon, a huge volcanic area that looks like a great place to mine asphalt. We took a side trip up to Sun Valley, since we'd never been there and were less than 40 miles away. The aspens were beautiful, and worth the trip just to see their bright leaves against the brown mountains.


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