Days 19 and 20 - Wild Wyoming

Rocks Springs, WY to Yellowstone National Park

Ending up in Rock Springs, WY via our circuitous route of Salt Lake City to Dinosaur, UT turned out to be a very fortunate turn. Once again the whole, “planning not to plan” travel philosophy is a winning game-plan. When I began to consider the places we’d like to go and the things we’d like to see along the way, I had a loose idea of making it to Yellowstone National Park’s West Gate entrance into the park. Though after a brief conversation with a Ranger at the Dinosaur National Monument, she suggested the South Gate because it ran through Jackson, WY and then through the Grand Teton National Forest.

First, let’s talk about Jackson Wyoming. Easily one of the most charming towns I’ve visited. Of course Conor and I were only passing through, but as the highway gradually slows from 70 MPH to 35 MPH to 25 MPH entering Jackson, I was immediately struck by the building facades as they pay homage to the Old West cowboy towns of the 19^th century. Jackson felt both comfortable and inviting – a stark change from Las Vegas only a few days before. The town is situated in a valley between large mountains and towering pine trees. Driving along Jackson’s main thoroughfare, we were struck by the rusty red color of the exposed rock and the deep forest green of the pines against a clear blue sky. It was like a sensory rush. We immediately dropped the windows too; this was the first time in days the daytime  temperature would drop below 90 degrees Fahrenheit. In fact, it was about 74 degrees, and the air was clear and dry. From the hot, arid air of the Rockies Western edge to the clear, cool air at the foothills of the Grand Tetons, a simple car ride felt like we’d stepped through an interdimensional portal.

Driving down Main Street on our way toward the Grand Tetons, we saw a place called “Sidewinders” and stopped for lunch. This too was a happy accident. The name “Sidewinders” in a mountain town invites thoughts of the venomous Sidewinder Rattlesnake. When we stepped into the restaurant though, we immediately noted all the Marine Corps Aviation memorabilia, including a large F4 Phantom hanging from the ceiling; its squadron emblazoned along the fuselage – VMFA-112 “Cowboys”. The menu had several aptly named burgers on the menu, too. The Phantom (a reference to the F4), the Hornet (a reference to the F-18), and the Sidewinder (a missile commonly carried on either aircraft). Turns out the owner of the place is a retired Marine Corps aviator. The gentleman wasn’t in the restaurant that day, and I never did get his name, though given our family history with Marine Corps aviation it wouldn’t surprise me at all if K9 (my father-in-law) knew him, or at least knew of him. Marine Corps aviation circles are pretty small… Conor was insistent of dropping K9’s name (call-sign) as we exited the building. “When you see him again, tell him K9s Grandson was here!” he shouted to the manager as we passed by the bar. “Sure thing, kid.” the manager said through a grin. Made me smile…

Leaving Jackson toward the Grand Tetons you’re routed right through the center of town; the scenery as described above for probably 2 miles.  But then the road turns and the town is in your rear view and you can hardly believe what’s in front of you.  Beautiful, lush rolling meadows to the East, and towering snow-capped mountains to the West along a single two-lane highway trailing away into the wilderness. It was here we had our first bison encounter. It was also the moment Conor about lost his mind. An entire heard of buffalo grazing in the meadow maybe 70 yards from the road! Fortunately we weren’t the only tourists passing through because there was a line of about 10 cars all pulled to the shoulder, hanging out of their windows and snapping pictures. Nothing attracts a crowd like a crowd after all, so we pulled to the side and Conor snapped this picture – I’m considering framing it when we’re home!

The Grand Teton Mountains are spectacularly large with extremely jagged tops that seem to be reaching into the heavens, most of them covered in snow, even in July. Driving through that National Forest was unexpected, but what a welcome surprise. What I didn’t realize until we were on the route though, was that coming into to the Southern Gate of Yellowstone requires a drive through the Tetons. For anybody following along, if you’ve ever considered a drive into Yellowstone National Park, I suggest starting in Jackson and making your way to the South Gate. You certainly won’t be disappointed.

When we finally arrived in Yellowstone it was mid-afternoon and the first order of business would be to find a campsite. Or so I thought… An important detail in this though, there’s absolutely no cell service. Like, zero. My Waze navigation app was rendered useless and there was no way to make a call. This began smelling like a “planning not to plan” fail when I finally saw a sign for a Visitor Center, about 20 miles into the park. But then came the next would-be fail… Speaking with the Visitor Center attendant, she informed me there were no available camp-sites in Grant’s Village. This is a result of a significant portion of the park being closed due to flooding in the Northern half of the park in June. She then suggested that another area of the park may have camping available, but I would have to go there to find out. “How far away is that?” I asked. “About 40 miles”, she responded. I stood there considering driving further into the park only to learn they were booked too – an unwelcome thought. “What are the chances you have lodging available?” I said. “Oh, we have two rooms available, actually! And they’re nice rooms, too. They face Yellowstone Lake.” Excitedly I said, “I’ll take it!”, not even bothering to ask the rate; which wasn’t terrible for a room with two twin beds, no A/C, no TV, no WiFi, and no choice. Definitely could have been worse, but otherwise, crisis averted.

After sorting all of that out and dropping the bags, it was late in the afternoon and we were getting hungry, too.  Not really a day to visit the park but having the lodge room for two nights meant we would wake up at a reasonable time, have breakfast, and get to it. And boy did we…

Yellowstone National Park

After being (forcibly) unplugged, a nice long evening walk along Yellowstone Lake, and a good night’s rest, Conor and I bounded out of bed this morning ready to seize this day. We were up and dressed in record time, grabbed a quick bite at the local (only) restaurant and we were off. First order of business, Conor was to be sworn in as a Junior Ranger of Yellowstone, once again taking his oath. For what it’s worth, he’s now considering turning his attention toward that of a National Park Ranger. He absolutely respects these people and engages them at any point, assuming they have all the answers to all his questions related to the wildlife and geology of these places we’ve visited.

If you’ve never been to Yellowstone, it’s three interconnected roadways separating distinct areas of the park with one larger two-lane roadway encircling them all known as “Grand Loop”. Our plan was to set out toward East Yellowstone up into the North and then back toward the West, finishing the day on Old Faithful, and all along the Grand Loop. In all, we drove over 100 miles and had between 16 and 18 little stops and hikes estimating another 6 miles on foot. We saw it all. And let me tell you, it was worth absolutely every minute.

The Eastern edge of Yellowstone showcases a huge lake (Yellowstone Lake) and runs North into meadows that make way for a river which feeds that lake. Along the route there are a number of thermal vents, mud pots, beautiful views, jaw-dropping vistas, and spectacular waterfalls, but it’s also home to a ton of wildlife. At the first of our many mini hikes toward a number of mud pots situated along the lake, we saw a single bison just off the road all by himself having a walk. This was 10 minutes in, mind you.  Making our way back to the Grand Loop we pressed on to a number of expansive views where you could see buffalo dotting the landscape in the valleys below. The elevation seemed to always be changing and the wildlife was plentiful. By noon we’d seen American buffalo, prong-horn antelope, two elk, a moose and her calf, a lone big-horn ram, a handful of squirrels, and few chipmunks, one wolverine, and hundreds of birds including ravens, ducks, geese, eagles, falcons, and more. Yellowstone is a naturalist’s dream, and it wasn’t even noon yet.

Of note, Ms. Sylvia was a bit of a celebrity today, too. Yellowstone National Park is one of the most famous National Parks on the planet. As such it’ll see nearly as many visitors from other countries as from our own. On several occasions today I would spot folks taking pictures of her; this gigantic black beast of a truck. An extremely zealous Aussie who called it, “the most radical f’ing thing I’ve ever seen, mate!”, an entire family of Chinese folks literally posing in front of her while a passer-by took their picture, and two gentlemen from the Czech-Republic who’d parked in front of me and just stood staring at her with smiles on their faces. When Conor and I stepped out of the truck, I said hello and asked where they were visiting from. In their Eastern block accent one of the men said, “We see trucks like this here in America. How do you drive these into cities?” I said, “That’s easy, you don’t. Enjoy the States, gentlemen!” and they both laughed. That was fun…

We spent more than 10 hours seeing every attraction of note in this magnificent place. Certainly, I’ve never seen or experienced anything like it. But more than that, Conor and I were completely engaged throughout the day. Several times he would reference the map or the National Parks Atlas we keep on-board, a gift from our good friends, Mike and Kristen Olson. Ever looking for points of interest, he’d call out waterfalls, rock croppings, mud pots, steam vents, and geysers; all with their own hikes and trails. As well, the daytime temperature was in the mid 70’s. Every window and the sunroof of the truck was wide open all day. No exaggeration when I say it was one of the greatest days of my 49 years, and certainly one of Conor’s, too.

I mentioned early on there’s next to no cell service in the park. A few times my phone would download emails and text messages, but the signal was gone as quickly as it came. Thankfully, I do have satellite radio onboard as well, so we were listening to several stations, flipping in and out of genres. Toward the end of the day as we moved toward Ole’ Faithful while listening to “No Shoes Radio”, Israel Kamakawiwo’ole’s, “Over the Rainbow” came on. Conor doesn’t usually move to adjust the radio volume, typically he’s just along for the ride. But when this song came on, he reached over and grabbed the volume knob and turned it up loud enough to hear over the rushing wind of the drive. He didn’t say a word, just reached for my hand and looked longingly out the passenger side window, singing along for the entirety of the song, holding my hand the whole time – a rarity on its own. When the song finished Conor turned the volume down and wiped the tears from his eyes; letting go of my hand allowed me to do the same… In this purely nostalgic moment he asked, “Dad, do you believe in reincarnation?” I paused. “I’ve thought about it for sure. Why do you ask, Buddy?” He said, “do you remember when we were offshore fishing with Mr. Clinton and that Loggerhead Sea Turtle swam toward our boat and stuck her head up before disappearing?” I said, “I do, yes.” He said, “Well I believe that was Mommy. She always loved sea turtles. And if she was reincarnated, I believe she came back as something she loved.” I nodded and said, “Maybe that’s true, Bud. Do you believe you’ll be reincarnated someday?” He responded, “I think if I’m a good person and I respect other people and animals, I can be. And I’d like to come back as a Bison.” I asked, “Cool! Why a Bison?” and he said, “Because then I could be big and strong, and I could protect my herd. What would you want to be reincarnated as?” Without hesitation I responded, “an Eagle. Because then I could always watch over you from the sky.” He smiled and turned his head back toward the window, content.  

Another breakthrough moment on the Healing Road, I thought. The means to an end. That end being a well-adjusted, honest, caring young man whose heart remains pure despite the otherwise incomprehensible sadness he’s living through.

I couldn’t help noticing that so often as Conor and I were hiking up a trail, looking on at an attraction, or standing in line at a grill to grab a sandwich, nearly all the people around us were complete families. A mother, a father, a kid or two. I saw it on his face, and more than once. But he would soldier on demonstrating a kind of resolve – “Me and my Dad.”  At least that’s how I read it. Either way, I’m once again counting my blessings and resting easy this night confident the decisions I’m making for both me and for Conor are the right ones. The time, the investment, the conversation, the experiences, the hurdles, and the resolutions are all a means to that one end. “Be a good man son, and you will one day be a Bison.”

In the morning we set out for Cody, WY – an eclectic Western Mountain town filled with museums and history and sites new to us both. The healing road goes on, and I can’t wait to see what new and amazing moments it leads us to.