To Valentine Siobhan From Bill (and The Incredible String Band)
Somewhere in my mind there is a paintbox.
I have every color there,
It’s true,
But every time I look into my paintbox,
I seem to pick the colors
Of you.
One Last Reminder
Okay, this is the last time. To access and enlarge the pictures on the Images of the Yellowstone/Tetons slide show, place the cursor on any of the photos and click. Above the picture that subsequently appears, there will be two arrows, one left and one right. By clicking these arrows you will be able to obtain all the Yellowstone/Tetons shots. Next week, you’ll remember this all by yourselves, right?
The Evil Dissipation Blues
When we last left our friend, Stuart Bentler, he was out in California bashing his car into unsuspecting motorists and passing out, willy-nilly, in the streets. His doctors couldn’t find any physical problems so they told him he was just crazy. This made no sense to his many friends who have long known that Stuart was, indeed, crazy, but he never crashed his car into anybody before. So it must be something else. And, indeed, it was. His doctors in Fort Lauderdale diagnosed hyperparathyroidism, which was first described in 1925, the symptoms becoming known as “moans, groans, stones and bones….with psychic overtones.”
They put Stuart in the hospital and prepared to operate on him, a simple process usually taking 16 minutes. Naturally, Stuart complicated matters, flatlining on the table for about 10 minutes before they got him stabilized. After a few days, they went back and tried again—using a lesser anesthesia. It worked better the second time, his daughter tells us. So I guess this means Stuart will be out and about soon, agonizing over the debilitating effects of aging and chasing younger women down the beach. Forewarned, as they say, is forearmed.
The Geezers Visit The Geysers
Wait a minute. Siobhan doesn’t want to be a geezer. Make that:
The Geezer (And Friend) Visit The Geysers
Long postponed because of Juggernaut’s success on the racetrack, the Yellowstone trip was finally accomplished in July of 2005, not long after a siege of extremely hot weather in Montana and Wyoming. I mean, you might as well hike in Florida if the temperature is going to be 100 degrees.
We flew out on Southwest Airlines, our favorite. Southwest is the only airline we know of which will let you change a reservation without charging you; it also has a nice safety record and seems to be on time more than most. Unfortunately, at the time, the airline offered no seat assignments so you had to line up about an hour before the flight and, when the Oklahoma Land Rush started, race down the aisle with your partner to make sure you sat together. The fly in this ointment was that occasionally they pulled people (usually me) out of line for further inspection, muddling the works. I guess it’s my big hat and sunglasses. We did sit together on three out of four flights, though. And friends tell me this loading practice has been amended. In any case, we arrived in Salt Lake City on schedule at 5:15 p.m., the nice Budget car-rental man gave us a pretty Camry and away we went.
Slowly. Even though Salt Lake City isn’t the biggest metropolis in the world, it is big enough to have traffic jams on the Interstate at rush hours, just like every other self-respecting big city. Though somewhat disappointed not to be sailing unobstructed through the wild west, we didn’t whine too much until we got to Ogden, where all the traffic was funneled into one lane for “road work ahead.” Except, or course, there was no road work ahead. Just millions and millions of little cones extending on into infinity. (How do you get the franchise on these cones, anyway?) Hey, Ogden—open up the road when nobody’s working! We even do that in Florida. What? We don’t? Oh. Well, then. Never mind.
The first night’s stop was Pocatello, Idaho. We liked Pocatello. Nice hotel. Nice restaurant. Friendly people. Cheap. And don’t get Siobhan started on the water. Six years later, she still carries on about the water in Pocatello.
For breakfast next morning, we went to the world-famous Butterbutt’s Restaurant. Oh, alright, Siobhan, so it wasn’t really Butterbutt’s. It was, for some incomprehensible reason, Butterburr’s, instead. But they missed a great opportunity. The locals were there with bells on, diving into their gigantic pancake platters, which were only slightly smaller in circumference than manhole covers. Nobody in town looked like he or she had just graduated from the Idaho weight-loss clinic.
And on to Twin Falls, where we departed the Interstate for good old Route 20, which winds through exotic locales such as Rigby, Sugar City and Chester into the Targhee National Forest, before reaching West Yellowstone, Wyoming, the west entrance to the park. We weren’t staying in West Yellowstone for a couple of days, but we thought we’d scope out the hotel situation and make reservations for later in the week. Ol’ Bill doesn’t like to make reservations at places he’s never seen because sometimes you get funny little surprises and then you have to sleep in them for days. (We have no doubt that Mr. Frommer, the guidebook man, is a very knowledgeable fellow, but he can take that star next to the Stagecoach Inn and fold, spindle and mutilate it.) We booked a giant room at the West Yellowstone Conference Center (now, I think, a Holiday Inn) which featured a whirlpool in the living-room, of all places. And then we moved on through the park to Gardiner, Montana, where we would be spending the first two nights at the Absaroka Motel, overlooking the scenic Yellowstone River (and, yep, it’s still there).
Gardiner might kindly be described as a one-horse town (although we couldn’t find him), but the motel was well-situated, with all the balconies overlooking the river. We sat outside and watched an incessant stream of rafters navigate the mild current. Further down the river, huge numbers of kayakers were in full bloom. We enjoyed dinner at the Park Street Grill, easily the best restaurant in Gardiner, and retired early to our motel, the little town offering not much in the way of nightlife.
Gardiner is a good place to stay when exploring the northwest section of Yellowstone. The north entrance is barely a mile from the hotel and Mammoth Hot Springs, a must-see location, is just down the road. We reached the trailhead for Sepulcher Mountain at 7:30 a.m. but the mosquitoes were out of bed even before us and proceeded to harass us for the first hour of the hike. In all fairness to Yellowstone, this was the only time on the entire vacation that insects were a problem. They gradually faded away as we gained altitude.
Sepulcher Mountain, though not recognized as one of the more popular hikes at Yellowstone, turned out to be our favorite hike in the park. It was challenging and occasionally difficult, but offered great variety. We hiked along a creek to start, climbed through forest and up along a ridge, then through meadows filled with a vast array of colorful wildflowers. We were even visited by a deer, who got surprisingly close and didn’t seem unduly concerned about these flatlanders invading his domain. We made the summit, a five-mile climb, in four hours, on a loop trail, which means that instead of retracing your steps back down, you can descend along a different path and see another side of the mountain. The descent was seven miles in four hours—very pretty—but, alas, Siobhan somewhere lost the bottom section of her fine Leki walking stick and was without it for the balance of the trip. She maintained a stiff upper lip.
Old Faithful And Beyond
The morning after Sepulcher Mountain we were off to another area of the park to visit the famous geysers. We had good luck, for some reason, with this endeavor. Every time we showed up at a geyser, it went off, thus irritating the swarms of people who would wait long periods to no avail. Old Faithful was supposed to go off at 9:30, but we must have known it wouldn’t since we arrived at 10:45. It promptly erupted at 11:00. I briefly considered the possibility of selling tip sheets like they do at the racetrack but decided it would be in bad form.
GEYSER FACT NOBODY KNOWS;
Sometimes, the water coming out of a geyser is VERY COLD! No kidding. Despite all the steam, a little while after the things erupt, the water becomes freezing. At least, I think it does. It did on the one geyser that soaked me. If you decide to try this and it doesn’t work out for you, well, you probably picked the wrong geyser. Sorry about that.
We also went to visit the Grand Prismatic Spring and we brought you back a picture (see the slide show). This spring, photographed from above, is spectacularly beautiful, a large blue pool ringed by red, yellow and green strands of algae. Unfortunately, when you visit the Grand Prismatic Spring you cannot hang directly over it so what you see is mostly steam. We bought the postcard.
Back to West Yellowstone for the evening. We liked this town. It’s not very big but it has a lot of charm. A few decent restaurants, many outfitters—some first-class—lots of trinket shops, an IMAX, a regular theater with one (count ‘em, one) screen and even a playhouse. We saw Annie Get Your Gun the second night in town and it was very good. The cast was comprised mainly of college students and recent graduates, many of them from Brigham-Young—Idaho, which we didn’t even know existed. Most of the performers had significant experience despite their young ages and handled the musical numbers with aplomb, whatever that is. The female lead was great. Siobhan lusted after her white lace boots so I went to great lengths writing to the actress, the playhouse, etc., trying to track them down before finding a pair months later. In Ocala.
Prior to the play, we hiked up the Mount Washburn trail, one of the more popular hikes in the park, probably because it’s not too hard. This trail was supposed to be resplendent in wildflowers (and probably was, in Spring) but couldn’t hold a candle to Sepulcher Mountain in that respect. The trail is essentially a service road to the ranger tower on top, thus wide and usually open. It is fairly steep, but anyone in reasonably good shape can reach the top.
Driving In Yellowstone
Not bad, really. But one important, annoying reality—they close the gates between Norris and Madison from 9:00 p.m. to 9:00 a.m. This is the only north-south road in the western part of the park, so if you want to get going early you have to take the route around Yellowstone Lake, which is much longer. What might have been a relatively short trip to the Mount Washburn trailhead took at least twice as long via this route, though we did drive through some beautiful territory, including the Hayden Valley, where bison herds stretched out over the horizon. Most of the animals we saw had no apparent fear of humans. Elk, moose and bison frequently grazed near the roadside, causing abrupt stoppage for the family photogs. Stories we had heard about traffic snarls were exaggerated, although the road improvement programs, especially between Madison and Norris, created half-hour waits. Despite what looked like extremely slow progress, they must be done by now, though, right?
The final day in Yellowstone, we took a short and easy hike out to the Lone Star Geyser, which exploded in greeting fifteen minutes after we got there. When you’re hot, you’re hot.
Jackson Hole And The Tetons
While driving east in Idaho on our way to West Yellowstone, we could see the Tetons in the distance. That view doesn’t prepare you for the majesty of this range up close. It’s really stunning. Moving inexorably toward Jackson Hole, we wondered where the town was. Turned out to be on the other side of the mountains. Extremely busy little place, bigger that West Yellowstone and much richer. Many hotels went for hundreds a night and they were full or close to it. Several of the fancier places closest to the town square were extremely steep, with no vacancies. Think Palm Beach in the mountains.
We stayed in a Super8 a couple of miles out for $135 a night. It had the added bonus of sharing a parking lot with the town’s biggest theater (8 screens—wow!). Jackson Hole, as you probably know, is loaded with wealthy residents, wealthy tourists and wealthy merchants, so you are not going many places on the cheap. Our one concession to splurging was a great meal at a restaurant called The Granary at Spring Creek Ranch in the hills outside town. This was a home run. If you’re going to choose one expensive restaurant on your entire trip to this area, The Granary should be it. Even though we had no reservations (which usually works most places if you eat early enough), we showed up at six and they gave us the best table in the place, not to mention terrific service and outstanding food. We don’t know what Mr. Frommer thinks but we give it the maximum number of stars.
Hiking In Grand Teton National Park
Two of the favored hikes in this area (aside from the popular 25-mile Teton Crest Trail—hard to do in one day) are Signal Mountain, outside the park, and Cascade Canyon, inside. We did both and while Signal Mountain was enjoyable, Cascade Canyon was great. A boat ride—optional, but saving 2 ½ miles—takes you to the trail across Jenny Lake. Most of the elevation, about 1000 feet, comes immediately, culminating at Inspiration Point, from whence the trail meanders along a river bed and through patches of forest to various destinations at various distances. We chose a fork in the trail that afforded us a 9-mile hike, round trip. And a good thing it wasn’t longer. With a mile left on the return leg, the rains came….lightly at first, but eventually, fiercely. Then it hailed on us. We had been stubborn about donning ponchos, but the hail and corresponding twenty-degree temperature drop convinced us discretion might be the better part of valor.
When we got back to the boat dock, we found ourselves among maybe a hundred other people who had come retreating out of the woodwork. It took several boats (seating capacity 20) before Siobhan and Bill got their turns. The boats, of course, came equipped without roofs. There was not a lot of happy singing on the way back.
I should probably mention here that the distance between Yellowstone and Grand Teton is fairly short and can easily be accomplished in one morning, so combining a trip to both parks is practical.
Vacation over, the drive from Jackson Hole back through small-town Idaho was beautiful. Not too fast, though. We had to trade in our nice Camry for a puny little Neon when the former developed a suspicious divot in the front left tire, unhappy for mountain driving even when Siobhan is not there to worry. The little Neon did not like the big mountains too very much but did make it through and back to Salt Lake City a day early. Going home a day early is never a happy event what with airline transactors frowning and toting up extra charges, so cleverness must sometimes be employed. Suddenly-hospitalized mothers usually bring good results, however, in addition to getting you to the front of the line. The inherent unfairness to the rest of the customers is, of course, damnably unconscionable and the karmic threat to vulnerable and innocent family members cannot be discounted.
We decided to take our—and their—chances.
That’s all, folks……
