Monday, August 4, 2008

Day 36: Big Buffalo Bill

The alley behind the church slept us well, and after a groggy rise we feasted on the Best Western’s continental breakfast buffet. MMMMmmmm, well that’s a little forced but I won’t complain about free food. Nick’s (my) flat tire hadn’t been fixed by God’s miraculous mechanical hand during our stay on his holy turf so I took off pushing my bike to the bicycle shop while Sam and Luke snuck into the showers at one of the city campgrounds. A few hours later we were on the road out of the tourist trap known as Cody, WY…to the ever generous Wal-Mart…and then up through the canyon to Yellowstone.

( tourist bar)



(Sam getting the heck out of Cody)


The canyon ended up being mostly underwater as it was damned up many a year ago for irrigation purposes, but the bit you can see from the road is breathtaking. The damn that makes the Buffalo Bill Reservoir marks the end of the canyon and we stopped at the visitor’s center and numbed our brains to a terribly composed documentary about the damn’s construction. In short, construction was delayed, many times, a few decades later it was finally finished.
(Luke tunneling through the mountains near the Reservoir)

(Luke gazing into the non-damed part of the canyon)

(The damed canyon)


(Sam braving the windy hell screaming out of Yellowstone)

We got back on the road and were met by a wind from hell. A few miles past the reservoir we could take no more, so we found a very classy abandoned restaurant and lounged on the porch eating sardines and peanut butter. A strange thing happened soon after our arrival; a middle aged man stormed into the driveway. After a few awkward moments of looking at us his music blaring he jumped out ;a quart of milk and a nice Nikon dslr in hands. He jumped some more, excited about something, said he was some ex-marine from Tennessee on a mission out West, delightfully told us we were stupid and then showed me his pictures. They were terrible, pointless poorly framed landscape and flowerpot shots that could have been better composed by a 7 year old with a disposable 35mm. I assume he stole the camera. He then jumped back in his car for something, but not before putting the milk on the car roof, which was subsequently blown over by the wind and spilled all over his head as he re-emerged from the driver’s seat. Looking perplexed he noticed a truck pulling in the driveway, jumped back in his car and peeled away.

(Lounging in our motel room )


The guy in the truck indifferently shrugged off the crazy man and told us he owned the place (and the hotel next door). We eventually asked if we could camp in the motel yard, the management stoutly declined, and instead suggested that we stay in a room for free! Yippeee. A few hours later we had clean clothes, clean bodies, warm beds and dreams in our heads.

(Festing on delightful mac, cheese and beans)


(Mister moustache (Luke) is ready for bed)




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