Sol Duc Valley ; Hurricane Ridge ; Visit to ‘Alaskan’-brand truck camper factory ; Timberline Lodge on Mount Hood

(posted from Redmond (OR) Public Library)
(This post covers 28 – 30 September, 2009)


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Wednesday, 30 September-

We awoke to a very foggy morning. Our campground had great hot showers, though, and Labashi took advantage of it, lingering a long, long time. The shower building had no heat but she took our little propane heater in and that made it nice and toasty.
Today was to be a day of mostly driving as we leave Washington and head into central Oregon. At Portland, we turned East, retracing part of the Barlow Toll Road portion of the Oregon Trail.
The highlight of our day was a trip to Timberline Lodge on Mount Hood. I’m not a big fan of fancy lodges but this one was a gem. It had been built as a WPA project during the Depression—a familiar story. But this one’s different. This project had true artists and craftsmen working on it. It’s built in a Cascadian style and it’s spectacular. What’s great about it is it was left alone. For example, the craftsmen built the chairs in the 30’s and those are still the chairs used throughout the lodge. And they had a master blacksmith whose work is the best I’ve seen anywhere.
And did I mention the snow? We hit snow on the way up and by the time we reached the lodge we had six inches of it on all sides and the lodge was just beautiful.
We did have a problem parking the van, though. The lower parking lot where we day-visitors had to park was covered in six inches of snow. It was a very wet, easily packed snow on a sloping parking lot. As soon as I entered it the steering went away and the van started sliding. I slowly worked my way to a parking spot and found myself sliding toward a pickup and camper unit, completely helpless. The slide stopped in time but I couldn’t steer past it on either side. The snow had packed into little ice wedges under the front tires and caused them to lose traction. I thought we were going to have to wait until the truck owner returned and pulled out of our way but I found I was able to back up. I then very carefully parked downhill from him, hoping the strengthening wind wouldn’t cause the van to start sliding again.
We walked up to the lodge in the blowing snow and found our way inside. We watched a video about the history of the lodge and then wandered about, marveling at the art and craftsmanship evident all around us. I was particularly astonished at the detail in the ironwork.
We checked the restaurant but it was closing for the afternoon and we were directed to the bar. There we had a completely sinful apple-caramel tart and a ‘Hot Buttered Temptation’, made with Jamaican dark rum, dark cocoa, and Timberline’s butter-mix. Both were fabulous.
While enjoying our treats we watched the snow come down pretty hard so we thought we’d better get down the mountain before it gets any later and things ice up. Our trip down the mountain was a breeze but we did pass the cinder truck on its way up so the freeze wasn’t far away.
We drove on down Route 26 in a light rain for a half hour but then saw blue sky ahead. Remarkably, we soon emerged on the rain-shadow side of the mountain. We had just left snow and the emerald green of mossy-strewn giant pines and just a few miles later we were seeing tall dead grasses and then sagebrush desert. What an incredible change. We had learned that it rains up to 200 inches on the rainy side and less than 20 on the dry side but that didn’t prepare us for seeing the stark difference in such a short distance.
We drove on to the town of Redmond where we found a nice, new Wal-mart to welcome us for the night. We rented a movie from the Redbox and settled in.


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Tuesday, 29 September-

Today we drove to the top of Hurricane Ridge in Olympic National Park. The road to the Ridge provided wonderful views of the Strait of Juan de Fuca. On the far left we could clearly see the city of Victoria, British Columbia, then the San Juan Islands, then Bellingham, Washington, the famous ferryboat location for ferries up Alaska’s Inside Passage.
Just as we reached Hurricane Ridge we transitioned into the snow-zone. It had snowed up here last night and we had a fairy-land of evergreens, all standing in rank after rank and dusted in brand-new snow. Fortunately, the black asphalt road had held enough heat to melt the snow and we didn’t have to worry about ice on the road.
We checked out the visitor’s center and noticed the cloud level coming down. We were soon in a snow squall but it was a short one, only lasting 20 minutes or so. We drove on past the center to the end of the road, which serves as a trailhead. There we turned back and found a nice overlook for lunch. We loved having lunch in our nice, warm van while watching the interplay of sun, cloud, and snow in the mountain peaks around us.
After lunch we made the decision that we were finished with Olympic National Park. The snow had turned to rain as we descended back to Port Angeles and we took 101 south, bound for Oregon.
But first I had unfinished business in Chehalis. Remember our ill-fated visit to the Alaskan truck-camper dealership in Fort Collins? Well, the campers are built in Chehalis, Washington and that’s right along I-5 on our return route to Oregon.
We spent much of the afternoon following 101 down the eastern side of Olympic National Park toward I-5 and Chehalis. Route 101 follows the Hood Canal for miles and miles so we had scenic road the whole way.
We found the truck-camper factory with only a little trouble but as I saw the building my heart sank. It appeared to be closed and I could see a notice on the door. That notice turned out to be the business hours and they were indeed open. It just isn’t a fancy operation.
Inside I met Brian, who immediately offered me a tour of the shop. Inside the shop, things looked much better. I could see a half-dozen campers in various stages of construction. Brian took me to an 8-1/2 footer and began explaining features. I was in heaven. FINALLY- I get to see the inside of not only one Alaskan camper, but all of the models.
My first reaction was very positive. I LOVE the large, screened side-windows and the various storage locations. But it’s still pretty heavy. The gross weight for a smaller-size unit was 1740 pounds dry and that seems like a lot. I’d definitely need a ¾ ton pickup. Brian also mentioned some model changes which I’d want to be aware of if buying an older unit. Prior to 1998, the cabinets were higher and partially blocked the view out the right-side window. And I believe he said is was 2002 when they widened the camper by four inches.
I was a bit put off by the size of the ‘cassette’ (the lower half) of the porta-potty. I don’t believe it has as much capacity as our current unit and sometimes that doesn’t seem like it lasts very long. Also, the sink simply drains to a fitting on the outside of the camper. You place a 5-gallon water-carrier on the ground outside the unit and connect a hose to the fitting. That seems ok in operation (and I think I’d like it better than having a grey-water tank in the unit) but I don’t think I’d like finding a place to empty it each morning.
As we were closing out our visit and starting to say our goodbyes, I noticed a smaller unit in the corner and asked Brian about it. It turns out to be a unit they’re experimenting with. The idea was to make a smaller camper suitable for the somewhat-light Toyota Tacoma pickup. This ‘mini’ camper top still goes up and down but instead of a cab-over double-bed, it has two bunks, one on each side. And when you sleep on the bunk your feet go into an opening as wide as the bunk and about 18 inches deep. This arrangement immediately appealed to me. The side bunks allow plenty of sitting space with a good view out the extra-large Hahn windows and you could simply roll the bedding up into the foot-space during the daytime. The fridge is between the bunks toward the cab end of the camper and a countertop containing a stove is above. There’s a space under the bunk for the porta-potty and the furnace is also under there. Brian said they’re selling that unit for $13,900 which is about 10K less than the cost of the larger units. All-in-all, if I were doing a truck camper solution I’d go with the mini. This also tells me a bunk-style arrangement in Mocha Joe might also work. I’ll have to do some mock-ups with cardboard or light plywood to try it.
After our visit to the Alaskan shop, we drove to nearby Lewis and Clark State Park for the night. We spent the evening blogging and watched two episodes of ‘Planet Earth’ (‘Deserts’ and ‘Ice Worlds’). Good stuff!


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Monday, 28 September-

This morning we left the Hoh Rainforest and nearly ran into an elk as we left the campground and then saw another within a mile. It wasn’t really close but I do love seeing elk browsing in the morning. There’s something peaceful and ‘right’ about seeing elk in the early-morning light.
After leaving the Hoh, we drove north up 101 to the Sol Duc Valley (still part of Olympic National Park). If you look at a map of Olympic National Park, it turns out the Sol Duc is surprisingly close to the Hoh Valley—just separated by a mountain!
We had heard the salmon had been running at the Sol Duc salmon cascades but we found none there. We did learn, however, that the coho salmon in this stream are ‘summer coho’. They swim up the nearly-empty Sol Duc River in July and August and hang around in the pools until late September before beginning to spawn.
In hopes of spotting some salmon we drove to the trailhead at the end of the Sol Duc Valley Road and took a walk to the falls, then started down Lover’s Lane Trail. We saw several very nice waterfalls but no salmon at all.
After returning to the van we moved on to Port Angeles. We’ve been away from civilization for a few days so needed to connect up and then stock up. We spent a few hours in the very nice Port Angeles Library for the former, then hit the local Albertson’s and Safeway to re-stock.
As it neared dark we checked the local Wal-mart to see if we could stay overnight in the parking lot and once we found it was ok, we drove to nearby Traylor’s Restaurant for a filet mignon and salad.
After supper we found our spot in the Wal-mart lot and watched a movie we had picked up from the Redbox DVD-vending machine in the Wal-mart. We watched ‘Sunshine Cleaning’, a quirky but good movie about a single mom who needs to make good money so goes into the crime-scene cleanup business with her sister.

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Portland ; Astoria ; Western Washington ; Olympic National Park

(Posted from Port Angeles Library)
(This post covers 23 – 27 September, 2009)

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Sunday, 27 September –

Today we needed a hike. We both happened to wake early (before dawn) so went ahead and prepped for the day and an early start. We drove over to the visitor’s center and first walked the two short trails there. One is the Magnificent Mosses Trail which climbs to a plateau filled with moss-draped trees. The other, the Spruces Trail, wound in and out around gigantic red and sitka spruces and Western hemlocks.
After the first trail we returned to the visitor’s center restroom area. I was rudely interrupted in my visit to the men’s room by Labashi, who yelled in the door ‘Get out here! I need the camera!”. Outside I found two elk cows and a magnificent bull, the latter keeping a very close eye on us.
On the Spruces Trail we came upon another bull elk, this a younger one we had heard bugling (we think) earlier in our walk. What a sight he made, as he glided along among the giant trees and the green, green bushes.
We had a break back at the van, then began hiking the Hoh River Trail. I had expected it to be somewhat less scenic than the other trails since it serves as the access trail for the serious backpackers. But it too was like a garden. We lasted about an hour outbound before having a snack to fuel our walk back.
We made it back to the van by early afternoon and still had an ultra-clear 72-degree day to enjoy more. We elected instead to find a nice, sunny campsite in the campground and relax the day away.
We read and I napped a bit to recover, then I went for another walk, this time re-doing the Spruces Trail in the early-evening light. When I returned we watched the sun set from our campsite, and immediately noticed a drop in temperature as the sun fell behind the mountain.
We buttoned up the van for the night and watched two episodes of ‘Planet Earth’ (‘Freshwater’ and ‘Caves’) on Labashi’s laptop before retiring.
Night-time temperatures are now around 43 degrees but daytimes are perfect in the low-70’s. We’ve not had any rain so far but rain is due tomorrow afternoon.

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Saturday, 26 September-

This morning we took a walk among the giant trees at Campbell Tree Grove. The Pete’s Creek Trail follows the creek for miles and would make a great horsepacking trip.
Once we got back to the main road we soon turned off again, this time to the Quinault National Fish Hatchery. A volunteer gave us a great tour of the hatchery and we learned quite a bit. In this case we’re talking steelhead, coho, and Chinook salmon. The tanks are kept very clean to keep the fingerlings and eggs disease-free. Everything is ready for this year’s run but the creek is far too low at the moment. It will take a week of rain to get the creek up enough for the run to begin. We are hearing of runs beginning on other creeks, though.
After lunch we headed north on 101 again, this time to the Quinault Lake area. We walked the Quinault Rainforest Nature Trail and saw more giant trees (and realized how nice our campground was last night!).
We followed the south shore of the lake and then the river for about 15 miles before finding a road to cross to the other side, then followed the north shore line back to the main road, all the time in beautiful forest.
We continued north toward the Hoh Rainforest but had a long stretch of Washington beaches before turning inland. We had supper at a beach overlook, then drove on to the Hoh Rainforest campground, arriving about an hour before dark. We began looking for a campsite in one loop but our way was blocked by a Roosevelt elk, browsing the campground foliage. We backed out and chose the other loop and settled in for the evening.
I took a walk through the campground loops to look at the camping rigs (nothing new or interesting, though) and met a couple from Homer, Alaska. We chatted quite a while about Alaska as we walked back to our sites.
Labashi and I spent the rest of the evening reading and blogging.

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Friday, 25 September-

After breakfast and showers this morning we drove into Astoria to cross the Columbia into Washington.
We spent the morning hitting several Lewis-and-Clark sites. First was Dismal Nitch, where, in November 1805 the Corps of Discovery was pinned down in a small cove by a Pacific storm. They were along a steep shore and the rain and high winds pinned them down for six days. They were soaked and miserable the whole time and had little to eat.
We briefly stopped at Station Camp, their camp on the Pacific Ocean, then went on to Cape Disappointment State Park. There we spent a few hours in the Lewis and Clark Interpretive Center before taking a short walk on the Cape Disappointment Trail.
We then drove north for a few hours (and saw our first black bear of the trip along the way) to a Wal-mart at Aberdeen. This Wal-mart said it would be ok for us to stay in the lot but it was very busy and noisy so we pressed on.
We found a Forest Service campground listed under Humptulips, Washington but it was actually a 30 mile drive to reach it. We eventually found ourselves among a stand of very large trees, arriving (once again) just before dark. This campground is in the Olympic National Forest and is called the Campbell Tree Grove Campground. This one is amazing. The trees must be 25 feet around and two hundred feet high. We parked beside a tree that’s wider (a LOT wider) than our van. The ground is covered in ferns and the whole forest floor is a very lush green with a thick cushion of big, brown pine needles.
After supper I worked a crossword puzzle and then blogged while Labashi read.

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Thursday, 24 September-

After a ‘you-could-have-heard-a-pin-drop’ night at Gnat Creek, we drove on in to Astoria. We spent a few hours going through the very nice and thorough Columbia River Maritime Museum. I was particularly impressed by footage of Coast Guard training on the Columbia River Bar. Across the river is the Coast Guard’s Cape Disappointment Station and from there they train the nation’s maritime forces in operating in extremely rough water, using 48-foot self-righting rescue craft. When the Columbia’s outflow meets the rising tide, steep waves result. Now add high winds and perhaps some extra wave energy from a Pacific storm and you have massive, confused waves at the river mouth.
We then drove to the top of a hill to the Astoria Tower and climbed the 164 steps to the top. That gave us a 360-degree view of the area.
We then drove a few miles south of Astoria to Fort Clatsop, a re-creation of Lewis and Clark’s winter camp in 1805-06. In 2006 we had visited Fort Mandan, their winter camp in North Dakota in 1804-05 and the buildings were (of course) very similar in design.
I was happy to find some charcloth and linen-tow tinder as well as a tin box suitable for making more charcloth. I had bought a strike-a-light and flint at the Whitman Mission so now I have the ingredients to make fire as the pioneers did. We’ll see how that goes…
We then drove to Camp Stevens State Park for the night. We picked out a nice campsite, then went to the South Jetty where a platform gave us a view of the ocean and the Columbia River mouth. We had supper in the parking lot while watching the sun set.
In camp, I spent the evening reading today’s edition of ‘The Oregonian’ newspaper, then a few pages of my book about the Oregon Trail diaries.

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Wednesday, 23 September-

We took a short walk this morning from our campsite at Clackamette Park in Oregon City. Just before dark last night I had taken this walk and wanted to show Labashi what I had found.
Just south of Clackamette Park is Jon Storm Park, which is literally on Abernethy Green and the Williamette River (I called it ‘Abernethy Commons’ yesterday). This is the spot where the emigrants called their journey finished. Yesterday we had been at the End of the Trail Interpretive Center where we had seen the memorial stone which declared Abernethy Green the end of the trail. It’s just across the highway.
Nearby our location this morning is the stump of the Abernethy Elm, which was planted by Anne Pope, the wife of William Abernethy. The elm stump is very near the I-205 overpass bridge but a display in Jon Storm Park has a photo of the elm taken in 1970 as well as a detailed drawing of the Abernethy’s home.
Off in the middle distance we could see the Falls of Willamette, which were well known to the emigrants.
We then decided to get a sense of Portland. We took a tourist map which identified several neighborhoods (The Pearl District, Nob Hill, and the Mississippi District) and drove through them. The Pearl District mostly consists of old warehouses coverted or being converted to trendy shops and condos. Nob Hill is a wonderfully diverse neighborhood of many shops and restaurants and was crowded today while the Mississippi District is an area where do-it-yourselfers are re-habbing older homes and establishing a new neighborhood.
We then used the GPS to find a library and chose the Multnomah Regional Library for our wi-fi connection. We spent a few hours catching up with mail and posting the blog and reading the newspapers.
When we came out of the library we were parked in a Whole Foods lot so checked it out (Can you say ‘expensive’ ??? Labashi bought one organic heirloom tomato and it was $3.14!)
We had an afternoon snack in the parking lot, then headed out of town. We took US30 west through St. Helens, Rainier, and on toward Astoria, enjoying the occasional views of the Columbia River off to the north.
We stopped at Bradley State Park, a picnic area and viewpoint, for a short break, then blundered onto a sign for Gnat Creek campground pointing back a dirt road into the Clatsop State Forest. We couldn’t resist checking it out and found a neat little campground along the creek with $5 sites. Since we were less than an hour before dark, we decided to go ahead and stay the night and Labashi soon had supper underway.
We spent the evening working crossword puzzles and blogging (me) and Labashi worked on an email detailing our trip to friends and family.
We both liked the look of Portland and would like to have had time to explore it in depth. I don’t quite know how to do that. I’d love to take a three-month sublet on Nob Hill or the Pearl District and really get to know the town.

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Columbia Gorge Discovery Center ; Vista House ; Fort Vancouver ; End of the Trail Interpretive Center ; End of the Oregon Trail for us

(posted from Multnomah County Library, Portland, OR)
(This post covers 21-22 September, 2009)


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Tuesday, 22 September-

We had a windy night last night in our Ainsworth State Park campsite. The site wasn’t far from I-84 and we had quite a bit of road noise through the evening but it tapered off around bed-time. Being the transportation cooridor the Columbia Gorge is, we also had trains come through at least every hour but we were just far enough away that we only woke a few times.
The wind was a different story. About midnight something hard hit the van roof and woke us up. In the morning light I saw it was a branch about an inch thick and three feet long. Fortunately, the wind was in the treetops so it didn’t shake the van as had our windstorm in Chadron, Nebraska. But we did hear pine cones and smaller branches hit the roof a dozen times in the night.
We got a late start this morning, perhaps because of the windy night or perhaps because the sunlight doesn’t penetrate the thick canopy until later. In any case it was 0930 before we got underway.
We took Old 30, the highly scenic route, as we continued downriver. We stopped at the locally-famous Vista House and had a spectacular vista but the winds were blowing a consistent 60 miles per hour with gusts to about 75. Vista House was originally built in 1916 and was refurbished and re-dedicated in 2006. It sits atop Crown Point and has a commanding view of the Columbia. The lower level is a nice little museum which tells the story of the building of America’s first scenic road here in the Gorge.
We then took the many turns of the scenic road all the way to its conclusion at Troutdale. Once out of the Gorge proper, the area reminds me a lot of home. There are many small farms selling their produce and fruits along the road and they are interspersed with long stretches of woodlands. It’s a very pleasant look but I’d bet the locals sometimes get frustrated with all the city-people traffic ‘doing the Gorge’.
After Troutdale, we turned north and crossed the Columbia to Vancouver, Washington to see Fort Vancouver. This fort was a fur-trading outpost of the Hudson’s Bay Company. It was run for years by John McLoughlin, a Quebecer who originally worked for the NorthWest Company (from Montreal) but when it was folded in to the Hudson’s Bay Company, he became an employee of the latter and therefore a representative of British interests.
Though McLoughlin was instructed not to sell anything to the Americans or have any dealings with them, he ignored that direction and helped and sold to all comers, though he did encourage the Americans to stay south of Columbia, claiming the land north of the river as British. Eventually, he was forced into retirement and later became a US citizen and settled in Oregon City. Before his death he was called the ‘Father of Oregon’.
We took a long tour of Fort Vancouver and thought its reconstruction very well done. The original fort burned to the ground in 1866 but the stockade fence, the Factor’s Residence, a cooper’s shop, a counting house, a blacksmith’s shop, an infirmary, and several smaller buildings were rebuilt and are fully furnished.
We then rushed back across the river to Oregon City to get to the End of the Trail Interpretive Center before closing. But we needn’t have rushed. The Center closed for good two weeks ago. According to the woman running the Visitor’s Center the Center was privately owned and with the closing of the main part of the tourist season had to close forever.
We did get to see the End of the Trail memorial which claims the Abernethy Common area to have been the trail’s end in 1845 and 46. In earlier years (I’m not sure which) Fort Vancouver was considered the end of the Oregon Trail.
We asked our Visitor’s Center guide for a recommendation for a steak house and she gave us WoodStone Steak House in nearby O.C. Point. That turned out to be an excellent recommendation. We had a scrumptious filet mignon with salads and a shrimp cocktail plus a glass of wine for Labashi and a glass of port for me. It was without a doubt the best food of the trip.
We then went to a nearby Fred Meyer store, hoping to stay the night in the parking lot but were refused. Once we saw the parking lot we thought it unlikely we’d be allowed given how crowded it was. We then called ahead to two Wal-marts. One in Portland said they don’t permit overnight parking and the other said we were welome to stay at our own risk but sometimes the police come through and kick out the overnighters.
As we were getting close to dark we chose instead to go to Oregon City’s Clackamette Park which had an RV-parking area. It cost us $20—a high for the trip so far— but it’s convenient and lies right on the Williamette River and Abernethy Commons. Besides, it’s appropriate that we end our Oregon Trail adventure here where many of the emigrants had their last camp before claiming their land here in the Oregon Territory.

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Monday, 21 September-

After an extra-quiet night in the Deschutes Recreation Area campsite we woke to a fishing boat roaring up the river at first light. But it didn’t take much trying to fall back asleep!
We drove to the Columbia River Gorge Discovery Center just south of The Dalles. We arrived about a half-hour before the 0900 opening so decided we’d drop in to the Safeway we had passed on the way in to pick up a few essentials. There we also connected to wi-fi to get our email and post a blog update.
We spent several hours at the Discovery Center, learning not only about the natural and geologic history of the area but also about Lewis and Clark and of course the Oregon Trail emigrants. The main display for the latter is a life-size tableau of an emigrant wagon on a raft. The wagon’s wheels were removed and laid flat and the wagon laid atop and tied down. The raft consists of a dozen 15” logs, 40 feet long with sweeps at the ends. The wagon was carried on the raft but the animals were driven on a narrow trail along the river.
It was at the Discovery Center that we learned of the massive floods which had inundated this area and tore away the soil, leaving the stunning scenery along the Gorge.
After lunch in the parking lot, we turned west on to Old Route 30. Here it’s the nation’s first scenic highway, built in the early 1900’s. It twists and turns like a West Virginia mountain road with views of the Columbia River, Mount Hood, and high ridges and deep canyons.
As we drove from Rowena Point, then past Hood River and on to Multnomah Falls, we could see the remarkable change in the forest. In the eastern end of the gorge, at Deschutes Rec Area, for example, the land is arid. But by Multnomah Falls, the forest understory is lush and the trees are huge monsters.
At the Falls we took a brief walk to take the obligatory tourist photos. Then we decided to turn back to Ainsworth State Park for the night, even though it was only 1530. We needed a walk and showers and could get them at Ainsworth but if we kept getting closer to Portland they were less likely—at a reasonable price.
At Ainsworth we settled in and had our walk and showers before dark, then spent the evening on the laptops and reading. About 2100 I pulled out the Kwik Kampfire and lit it but the wind picked up so I cut it short and went back to my reading.


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Fort Hall, Bonneville Point, Boise, National Historical Oregon Trail Interpretive Center, Pendleton Roundup, Whitman Mission, Deschutes River

(posted from Shari’s Restaurant, The Dalles, OR)
(This post covers 15- 20 September, 2009)

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Sunday, 20 September-

We awoke refreshed and surprised at how nice and quiet our night had been in the casino parking lot. The main part of the lot was jammed full and we had to run back and forth a few times in the open lot area to find a place to park little Mocha Joe. With all the giant diesel-pusher RVs we expected to be hearing their generators running all night. A few were running when we went to bed around 2200 but soon quieted down and the expected hub-bub from the late crowd returning to their RVs never materialized.
We drove north from the Wildhorse casino and across the state line into Washington state at Walla Walla.
Our goal today was the Whitman Mission. It was here that Marcus and Narcissa Whitman came to minister to the Cayuse Indians. Their mission lasted 11 hard years and the Whitmans appeared to realize their mission of bringing religion to the Cayuse and converting them to farmers was failing.
Marcus Whitman had been a country doctor before taking up the calling to mission work. As he realized his conversion efforts weren’t going well, he turned more to medical work. Also, the emigrants of the Oregon Trail soon began depending on the Whitmans to help them.
But the Whitmans had the great misfortune to have a wagon train come along in 1847 which brought measles to the Cayuse population. The Indians had no immunity to the disease and it soon killed half their population of 400. A small band of Cayuse blamed Dr. Whitman and may have believed his medicines only worked on white people or, as one rumor had it, he was helping kill off the Indian population so whites could take their land. In any case, in late November, 1947 a group of Cayuse killed Dr. Whitman, Narcissa, and 11 others staying with them and burned the mission.
The Oregon militia took three years to bring five young Cayuse men to hangman’s justice—and it now appears at least one of them was innocent.
Today, the national historical site is a nice, quiet spot and it’s easy to see what drew the Whitmans to this beautiful area.
After our visit to the Whitman mission, we drove west and before long struck the Columbia River. We followed along it for miles and miles, watching the landscape change. A few hours of driving brought us to Biggs, where we saw the point where emigrants first saw the Columbia River. The Columbia is very blue today and is flanked by rugged hills on both sides (with a bit of room for a railroad and Interstate 84). I was surprised how few boats we saw given how nice the river is.
Nearby we entered the Deshutes Recreation Area, a campground/ launch ramp/state park. We obtained a site for the night ($8!) and after supper we walked back along the river for a mile or so.
It’s steelhead and salmon season on the Deschutes so we saw plenty of fishermen yet there’s plenty of room for more. We saw a fisherman carrying a fish he was having trouble holding up. As he walked along we could see its tail occasionally dragging on the ground while its head was higher than the fisherman’s waist.
Back at the van we blogged and read.



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Saturday, 19 September-

This morning after breakfast we had some errands to run. We hit the local Wal-mart, Safeway, and Albertsons to restock. We then drove across town to the Pendleton Woolen Mills, a major employer here. We shopped the expensive woolen clothing and blankets but realized it’s just not us. We’d feel like dudes dressed up in Pendleton western clothing.
After lunch back at the high-school parking lot, we walked into town, again checking out the many vendor booths.
The rodeo began promptly at 1:30 and lasted all afternoon. This was our first rodeo and we loved it. The mc knew how to keep the pace going and the events were downright staggering to watch. Though some guys made it look easy we saw enough misses to understand how tough these events really are.
We saw bareback bronc riding, calf-roping, steer-wrestling, saddle-bronc riding, calf-roping, bull-riding, barrel-racing, and wild-cow milking contests, all done by world-class riders competing for the big prizes of the Pendleton RoundUp.
We finally got out of the rodeo stadium at 1730 and walked back to the van to have supper. Then we drove across Pendleton to the Wild Horse Casino for the night. We would have stayed at the high school but that would have been a $20 charge while parking at the casino is free.
We took a walk through the casino but they’re really not for us. We did stop at the bar and have a martini and Indian fry-bread with honey and huckleberries (WOW did we ever break out of our low-carb diet tonight!) while listening to a country band play for a half-hour or so. Then we returned to the van to blog and read for a few hours.

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Friday, 18 September-

This morning we wound our way back out of 20-some miles of National Forest to get to the hard road at Medical Springs. The area is very much ranch-country and open-range-style ranch country at that. The ranches have to be large because they’re mostly sagebrush. That means there’s forage for the beef cattle to eat but they have to range a long way to find it. Many of the cattle are in their summer range in the mountains so we see them in odd places. We’ll be rattling down some way-back-in-the-woods road and suddenly come upon a steer (or a herd of 10 steers) blocking the road. They give us the evil eye but eventually move and we can pass by.
After we had emerged from the national forest proper (the part with big pines), we were driving on an extremely dusty road past completely dry and yellow grasses and sage when we came to the intersection at Medical Springs. There I saw something odd—an old-time concrete swimming pool, longer than normal perhaps. As we drove past I realized a woman was in the pool swimming. This seemed like the oddest thing--- a larger-than-normal swimming pool in this extremely dry and dusty environment. Then it occurred to me—oh--- THIS must be the ‘medical spring’, i.e., a pool where people go to swim in (and perhaps drink from a spring of) the mineral-rich water.
As we had driven across the latter half of Idaho we had seen the evidence of fairly recent geologic activity. The emigrants had stayed just south of the lava fields of Craters of the Moon National Park and we had seen these same formations far to the west of the Park. So it was easy to believe that geologic features like mineral springs would also be in the area.
We then drove up Route 203 toward Union and LaGrange. Union is a cool little western town. We were intrigued by the hardware/espresso/liquor store and had to go in. It was very much a traditional country hardware store where you could get any kind of nail or screw or gee-gaw and also pick up some fishing lures. But this one had an espresso counter carved out of one corner (probably where the lawn-mowers used to be) and beside it an eight-foot-by-eight-foot well-stocked liquor counter. You’d probably be out of luck if you wanted more than one bottle of anything but I was impressed by their variety.
In LaGrange we had our favorite low-carb Wendy’s meal—the Baconator--- then drove through town looking for the visitor’s center. The visitor’s center sign took us to a billboard, the back of which said ‘See Other Side for Visitor Info’. Some visitor’s center.
We continued on I-84 which in this area follows (or is on top of) the Oregon Trail. We stopped at Emigrant Springs State Park campground which was formerly an emigrant campground as they crossed the Blue Mountains. We took advantage of the $2 showers in the campground (you put $2 per person fee in an envelope, just like you’d pay for a campsite).
Continuing on via I-84, we finally entered the Umatilla Indian Reservation and drove to their Cultural Center. This nice, very modern facility, tells the story of the Oregon Trail migrations from the Indian point of view. And it’s a sad story.
The Umatilla, Walla-Walla, and Cayuse didn’t have a problem with the whites coming through their homeland and in fact helped them. But it soon became clear to them that the whites weren’t just passing through, they were claiming the land for their own. And worse, their diseases were decimating the tribes, killing as many as half of them at a time.
This eventually led to the Cayuse killing a long-time missionary and his wife—the Whitmans—and 11 others who lived with them.
As we checked out the gift shop we saw an ad for Pendleton Roundup and realized we’re in the middle of its run. We spoke briefly with the gift shop person to learn a little more about it, then rushed in to the town of Pendleton to learn more.
An hour later we walked out of the downtown visitor’s center with the last two tickets for the Happy Canyon Indian Pageant tonight and the finals of the Pendleton RoundUp rodeo tomorrow. We also knew where to make arrangements for a campsite from which we could walk to the show grounds rather than have to camp away from the site and then have to pay for parking near the shows.
We settled in to our assigned parking spot at the high school just in time for a quick bite of supper. We then walked across a river bridge to the show grounds.
We were amazed to see hundreds of teepees along the show grounds. These were the campgrounds of the native Americans. And beside their campground were sales tents--- EZ-Up tents, just like at an art show back home—where they were selling their crafts.
We walked the Indian crafts bazaar, then crossed the street to the bazaar of the whites, where cowboy hats, boots, and clothing were the mainstay but you could also but cowboy furniture and all varieties of foods from corn dogs to jerkies, to sno-cones.
When 0700 came, we entered the stadium and took our seats for the Indian Pageant. This is hard to describe but it’s a pageant in the Buffalo Bill sense. A narrator tells a story while its content is acted out by locals in costume. The first part was done by the Indians and they told how they had lived in peace on the land for centuries only to have their land stolen from them by the whites. Later, as the land is indeed taken by the whites, the story transformed into a sort of vaudeville story—the type where the sheriff wears a massively-oversized badge and the villains have big, black handlebar mustaches.
But it was, all in all, great fun. We were a bit surprised by how few punches were pulled by the Indians in their telling the story of their land being stolen from them. Yet the story marched on and we finally saw—for the first time—a wagon pulled by six oxen (as many real-life wagons were) rather than by two horses or mules (because oxen are hard to come by).
After the show we turned in back in Mocha Joe in his high school parking-lot spot.

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Thursday, 17 September-

We left the Boise Cabela’s parking lot early this morning. We had both slept well but woke early and were ready to roll.
We drove to the Oregon border and then turned for Nyssa (OR), where we visited a cool little display about the Oregon Trail. We were led 1/3 of a mile up a trail, which was climbing a hill. There, the sign explained, we could see a full day’s travel for the emigrants. In the distance to our right is the Snake River and in the distance to our left is the Malheur River. The fifteen miles in between was a typical day in this sagebrush-desert.
The view was pretty bleak. There’s no shade and the low sagebrush would both hide rattlers and impede progress with the wagons while the valley would hold the massive amount of dust raised by passing oxen and people. The diary quotes we read reinforced our guess — this was a hot, dusty, boring, slog for the emigrants.
We drove through the little town of Vale (pausing only long enough to look at some of their many murals depicting the Oregon Trail) and on toward John Day. We were actually trying to get to Baker City but had a long way around and not a lot of gas to get there. It was going to be close.
Labashi found us a shortcut, albeit on dirt roads, but it would save us 40 miles. We went across Indian Gulch Road to Bridgeport and turned out loving this little isolated road. The road was very narrow, not pot-holed or wash-boarded, and felt very remote. We’re in range-cattle country and did pass a small ranch here and there but otherwise it was just mile after mile of sagebrush hills.
We made it to Baker City and after gassing up drove to the nearby National Historical Oregon Trail Interpretive Center, high on a hill a few miles outside of town. This is a BLM (Bureau of Land Management) facility and appears to be very new.
As we entered the first of the exhibits, we at first thought their competitors had done this better. But after the first hallway of posed mannequins with voiceovers, the displays got better.
About half-way through, they announced a film will be shown in the auditorium. We watched an excellent Ric Burns documentary about the Donner Party for an hour, transfixed the whole time.
A second documentary, this one about the trip West, wasn’t quite as good but we did learn some new things. Part of the reason for the mass emigration, for instance, was a crash in farm prices in the 1840s.
After the films we finished touring the displays just as the center was closing.
We weren’t sure where we were staying tonight and with darkness only an hour away it was time to figure it out. We could have gone to a Wal-mart at Island City but wanted to see more of the land. We chose a fairly remote campground in the Wallowa-Whitman National Forest, about 20 miles from Medical Springs. The road wasn’t horrible but had quite a bit of washboarding so our pace was slow. We finally made it to Two Colors Campground and found a site just as it got too dark to keep looking (we had passed an informal campsite (a pulloff with a fire-ring) on the way in and would have used it in a pinch). This part of the forest is now covered in big pines with a fairly open understory. We saw six or seven mule deer on the way in but no ‘big’ animals.
After supper we blogged and read.

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Wednesday, 16 September-

We left our Wal-mart spot a bit late this morning. I had a headache much of the night and didn’t sleep well. I don’t know if the altitude is giving me some problems or what but I’ve been having headaches around bed-time.
On the drive west we stopped at several Oregon Trail sites. We checked out Three Island Crossing at the town of Glenn’s Ferry, where the emigrants had to cross the Snake River running six to eight feet deep. It’s said to be the worst crossing of the trip and many were lost here.
After lunch we drove to Bonneville Point, which, after crossing miles and miles of sand and sage, gave us our first view of Boise. The view is terrific. All is dead and dry around you but off in the distance is a valley filled with trees—and among them is the Boise skyline. The word Boise comes from the French boise’, meaning “wooded”.
In Boise we drove around for a bit of a tour since Boise repeatedly wins honors as one of the best little cities to live in in the US. We ended up at the Library where I spent the rest of the afternoon writing an email to my brothers and Labashi blogged.
As evening came, we drove to nearby Albertson Park to have supper in the van, then walk the wildlife-preserve trails. Someone knew what they were doing here. The stonework and large stone-and-log pavilions are gems.
We then drove through Old Boise and were tempted to walk the streets there to get a sense of the nightlife but since we hadn’t found our home for the night, we decided we’d better move on. On the way to the edge-of-town Wal-mart we passed a Cabelas. We shopped there for an hour or so and I asked Customer Service whether they, like many Cabelas, also allow RVs to overnight in the parking lot and got a positive reponse. We set up for the night in the back lot and caught up on the blog and did some reading about Oregon.

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Tuesday, 15 September-

In our National Forest campsite last night we watched two episodes of ‘Planet Earth’, the excellent BBC series narrated by David Attenborough. Labashi’s little MacPro gave us a wonderful hi-def rendering of the spectacular photography of the series.
In the morning we drove in to Pocatallo to tour the Fort Hall replica. The original Fort Hall stood on what is now the Fort Hall Indian Reservation, about 14 miles north of where the replica stands today. The replica was built in the early 1960’s by a local group.
The replica appears to be typical of a local approach to building an historical replica. I’m willing to buy the basic layout of the fort walls and even of the buildings within the walls. But I’m sure the logs weren’t chinked with concrete and that 20-penny common spikes weren’t used for the walkway planks and handrails. Nevertheless, it’s easy to conjure up images of the traders and emigrants here. The point is the fort was crudely built but served its purpose.
The buildings consist of two types—either replicas of life-in-the-day or displays explaining some aspect of pioneer life. The life-in-the-day re-creations are done better by other sites. The furnishings and gear used here tends to be obviously worn out or broken so it doesn’t give you the feeling the person has just stepped out of the room for the few minutes we’re there.
For a small-time operation, the displays were pretty good. I particularly enjoyed reading transcripts of immigrant diaries where they spoke of Fort Hall. In short, our visit was well worth the $1.75 bargain price we paid for our visit.
After the museum we drove through pleasant little Pocatello and joined I-84 to continue West. We stopped at a roadside rest and walked the trail to Oregon Trail ruts near Massacre Rocks State Park. We finished up our day by finding the Wal-mart along I-84 at Jerome, just outside Twin Falls.
We rented a movie from the Redbox ($1.06 !!) and saw Robert Downey Junior and Jamie Foxx in ‘The Soloist’. It’s the story of an LA Times reporter, Steve Lopez, and a mentally challenged (and homeless) street musician who had attended the Julliard School of Music. Director Joe Wright does a great job of story-telling on this one and both Downey and Foxx amaze us with the skills.

**************** END OF POST **********

Short search for wolves in Yellowstone; Fort Bridger ; National Oregon/California Trails Center ; Soda Springs ; on to Pocatello

(posted from Pocatello Public Library)
(This post covers 12 – 14 September, 2009)

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Monday, 14 September-

This morning we left Montpelier Canyon campground and drove into the town of Montpelier to visit the National Oregon/California Trail Center. We’ve were also looking for some variety in our breakfasts so first had huge omelets at the Butch Cassidy Restaurant. The famous Mr. Butch Cassidy robbed the local bank in 1896 but he didn’t own the restaurant so I’m not quite sure why it’s named for him. The owner must just be a fan, I guess.
We weren’t sure we wanted to pay the $9 per person to see the Trail Center since it gets a lukewarm description in the guidebooks we’re using. But it was actually pretty good. We met with our guide, Dave, who introduced himself as our wagonmaster and dressed the part. He thanked us for choosing him to guide our wagon train to Oregon from our starting point in Independence, Missouri. He pointed to a white line on the floor and said once we passed it, we would be in 1850’s Independence, preparing for the trip.
We stepped over the line and through a curtain into a gunsmith’s shop. After telling us that each of us over 12 years of age would be required to bring a firearm for our (and the wagon-train’s) protection, Dave described to us how long-guns were made as we examined period gun-smithing equipment.
We entered a large room which looked like a street in 1850’s Independence. It’s lined with stores, blacksmith shops, stables, etc. and our wagon was partially loaded with supplies. Dave explained why we’d take certain items and leave others and went over the working parts of the wagon and explained why we’d want to take oxen rather than horses or mules to pull our wagons. In short, oxen walk all day without feeding, feed at night, and are refreshed to go again in the morning. They are slow walkers but strong, even-tempered, and easily handled. And they taste good should the need arise.
The wagons used were, for the most part, ‘Studebaker-Form’ wagons, a farm wagon rather than the huge Conestoga-style freight wagons. The smaller wheels on front made the wagons more maneuverable. Wheels had to be greased every four days with a mix of tar, pine-oil and tallow.
We entered a store where Dave continued talking about the items we’d take and the costs. The average cost of the trip for a family was $1200-1500 of cash outlay. In some cases, families would move to Independence and work up to 3 years to be able to afford the trip.
Dave then herded us into a wagon and we took a simulated wagon ride, bumping and jolting along while listening to recorded excerpts from letters and diaries of the emigrants.

When the wagon stopped rocking, a curtain raised in the front of the wagon and we stepped off. We had arrived at Clover Creek Encampment, the historical location of an emigrant campsite very near the location of the museum today.
We were greeted by a woman who said she’s the wagonmaster’s wife and led us through a series of campfire-style locations while she described life on the Plains. She was much better at acting the part than had been our wagonmaster and stayed in character the whole time. She did a great job of transitioning from scene to scene as she told stories and sought our participation, eventually leading us to a scene in Oregon’s Williamette Valley and the end of our trip.
For a home-town operation, this one is VERY well done. And we could tell it was someone who knew what they were doing who put together this show which required only two people to guide us through and keep us interested. Well done, Montpelier!
After the Trail Center, we drove back to the campground for a bit of lunch and camp-showers. It was also time to clean out the ice box and sweep out the van and re-stow.
We then shopped a local market called Broulim’s for essentials, then headed west on US30.
Our next stop was Soda Springs, where we found Hooper’s Spring and drank from it, just as the emigrants had. It’s said to be an exceptionally fine soda water. Our book says there was also reported to be a nearby spring called ‘Beer Spring’ which, if one imbibed too much, made one dizzy. The locals seem to have kept the location of that one to themselves.
We then drove on to Pocatello and in doing so drove through a very strong thunderstorm, our first of the trip.
We knew our next goal, a re-creation of Fort Hall, was closed by now so we only checked with the visitor center to get current operating hours. We then drove an exit south of Pocatello to take a road into the Caribou National Forest at Mink Creek. We found a campsite for the night on a road into the ATV-trails portion of the National Forest.
We spent the evening blogging, working a crossword puzzle, and then watching a movie. We’ve been carrying along the ‘Planet Earth’ DVD collection for something like a year and 20 thousand miles now so it was finally time to open the package.

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Sunday, 13 September-

We had a very restful night at the Gros Ventre Campground, north of Jackson. As we had driven in last evening we could see a massive smoke plume at the back of the mountain just east of the campground. A sign told us it’s a planned fire but nevertheless we wondered whether we’d smell smoke all night. The smoke all seemed to be lifted and carried away rather than dropping down into our valley, so we thought we should be fine. And that was indeed the case. We had no smoky smell overnight and nothing this morning.
Our plan today was to rejoin the Oregon Trail near where we had diverted to Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks. That had been at South Pass, the point where the emigrants first entered what at the time was Oregon Territory. They were still hundreds of miles from what is today the state of Oregon but we can imagine their excitement at first realizing the rivers they are following are now flowing the other way—to the Pacific Ocean.
We didn’t want to retrace our steps to South Pass itself so chose Fort Bridger as the logical place to rejoin. Fort Bridger is named for Jim Bridger, the famous mountaineer, trader, explorer, and legend. It is Bridger who had explored into the valley of the Great Salt Lake and suggested it to Brigham Young as a suitable settlement area for the Mormons.
Bridger had attempted to establish several trading posts in his fur-trading years but it wasn’t until he set up Fort Bridger to serve the emigrants that he struck gold. In a letter to suppliers he said the emigrants arrive at his camp with plenty of ready cash and a strong need to re-supply and replace worn stock.
Bridger eventually sold out to the Mormons but it wasn’t long until the Mormons burned the fort down as they left on the run from the US Army during the so-called ‘Mormon Wars’.
The fort was later rebuilt by the military but faded into obscurity after the Civil War only to be resurrected in the new century for its historic value.
Our favorite part of our tour of the fort today was the reconstructed frontier fort. The rude little log buildings are low-ceilinged and dirt-floored. One side of the main building is a blacksmith shop and it looks like the blacksmith is about to come in and start building the fire in his forge for his day’s work. The other side looks like a trader’s shop but it has a mix of modern tourist goods and some very nice reproductions of firearms (non-functioning) and frontier knives. I came very close to buying a knife but couldn’t find just the ‘right’ knife-and-sheath combination. The repros are done by a member of the American Mountain Man Association, an organization noted for its work in authentically re-creating the tools, foods, clothes, etc of the mountain man era. I don’t know his name but his trademark is a small canoe and I saw one item which also had the initials JT or JR above the canoe. I’ll have to see if I can find him online. The girl at the counter didn’t know his name but believes he’s from Oregon.
Though it was late in the afternoon, there wasn’t any cheap camping handy so we drove on to Montpelier, Idaho. This little town is right on the Oregon Trail and as it happens we had stayed in the Montpelier Canyon campground just outside of town last year on our way home from Alaska so we headed there today.
Our drive from Fort Bridger to Kemmerer to Montpelier was magnificent in the evening light. We arrived at the campground in time to build a fire from firewood generously donated by previous campers. Later, we caught up a bit on the blog and on our reading about the Trail.

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Saturday, 12 September-

We awoke before dawn this morning in order to get in position for sunrise at our favorite spot south of Obsidian Cliff. But we had no luck there this year. The frosty meadow was bare of any animals. We probably should have waited to let the sun light up the meadow but we instead chose to drive north through Mammoth Springs, then east to the Blacktail Plateau Drive, a six-mile long dirt road winding through the backcountry. Along the way we saw a few solitary bison and an impressive bull elk south of Mammoth Springs. And of course there were dozens of elk in the town of Mammoth Springs itself. Somehow, it’s not the same to see the elk calming loitering throughout the town as it is to see them in the wild.
We struck out on the Blacktail Plateau so decided to continue on to the Lamar Valley. There we saw a largish herd of bison descending a hill in the distance and it made us wish we had been able to see the huge herds of the 19th century.
We hit the regular wolf-watching hot-spots along the Lamar Valley Road but to no avail; we were late in the morning after all.
We did see a coyote very near the road, apparently eating. I couldn’t tell if it was eating from a kill or had just caught some small mammal.
We had thought we’d spend our second day in the park in the Lamar Valley but I’ve picked up some flu bug or something and we didn’t want to walk today. We decided instead to head back down the east side of the Grand Loop Road and then continue on out of the park and on to Jackson.
Since Yellowstone has a 45 mile-per-hour (or slower) speed limit throughout the park, we had a nice, long easy-going drive. We stopped at Heart Lake Trailhead again -- this time to make a late lunch-- before continuing on.
In Jackson we went to the Albertson’s Market and found a shady spot in the far reaches of its gigantic parking lot. We napped for an hour to make up for lost sleep, then shopped for a few specialty items we like from Albertson’s. After finishing up the shopping, we took the laptops into the mini-courtyard and took care of uploading the blog and picking up our email.
We both wanted a good burger for supper and after a few false starts (Jackson is very crowded this Saturday night), we ended up at Burke’s Chop House. That turned out to be a great stroke of luck. We shared a 10-ounce, perfectly charred, bleu-cheese burger and a fancy (and exceptionally good) salad.
As darkness fell we drove the five miles out of Jackson to the Gros Ventre campground for the night.

****** END OF POST *******

Wind storm in Chadron, NE ; Alaskan truck-camper search in Fort Collins, CO ; Casper, WY; Fort Laramie ; Independence Rock ; South Pass ; Union Pass ; Museum of the Mountain Man ; Shoshone Nat’l Forest ; Teton and Bridger National Forests ; Grand Teton National Park

(posted from Albertson’s grocery store, Jackson Hole, WY)
(this post covers 1-11 September, 2009)

(Sorry for the long delay between posts. There’s not a lot of wi-fi connectivity in the National Forests and National Parks!)


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Friday, 11 September-

What a grand night. We still have about a half-full moon and it lasts most of the night, lending an eerie light yet peaceful light to our surroundings.
After rattling our way back to the main road we headed north and soon entered Yellowstone. I wanted to take a short walk on Heart Lake trail since the Continental Divide Trail shares the trail here.
We hiked for a mile and a half and at this altitude (8000 ft), that seemed like enough for our morning stroll. We were climbing a small rise at the time and sat down on a trailside log to rest. As I sat down, I noticed an out-of-place shape behind the log. It was a camera. Someone had apparently sat on the same log and the camera had fallen unnoticed.
The camera was a Canon S3 model, a 6 megapixel digital model with a motion-compensating lens. It only took a minute to figure out how to start the camera and look at the last image taken. It showed a young family of five posing at the trailhead sign.
We took a minute to figure out how to handle the situation. Fortunately, I had a pen and paper and Labashi had a plastic bag. We wrote: CAMERA FOUND HERE ON 9/11/09 AT 0945. WILL LEAVE IT AT THE GRANT VILLAGE RANGER STATION. We bagged the message and placed it on a log in the middle of the trail.
We continued to the top of the rise to even the GPS reading to a mile and a half and turned back. Just as we reached the message we had left, seven hardy young men with gigantic backpacks came through. Of the seven, only #6 saw the message in the middle of the trail (#7 might have seen it if not for #6 noticing first). So much for an obvious message.
As we walked back to the van I continued fiddling with the camera and figured out how to move through the images and to see the date/time the image was taken. The last image, #121, was taken on August 25th. The camera had apparently been lying behind the log for more than two weeks.
Back at the van I scrolled through the images and found two-- #71 and #72 which showed the license plate of the apparent owner’s car. It appeared to be a Texas plate but the LCD image is so small I couldn’t be sure.
After our walk we drove to Grant Village for lunch. We were hoping for pasta to counterbalance our high-protein diet of the last several months but the only pasta was on the kid’s menu. Labashi sweet-talked the crew into serving us from the kid’s menu.
We then dropped the camera off at the Visitor Center with a ranger and a note about where and when we found it and pics 71 and 72. Hopefully it will find its way back to the owner.
From Grant Village we continued north, skirting Yellowstone Lake. We stopped in at the marina Ranger Station, hoping to find a wolf expert we had met there in 2006. We wanted him to listen to the wolf howls we captured on our video clips. Unfortunately, the ranger station is closed today and tomorrow.
We stopped at several overlooks in the Hayden Valley. At the second one, our attention was drawn to a large bull bison taking a dust bath. It was an amazing sight to see him raise a massive cloud of dust, completely enveloping himself. He’d lay on his side and kick his legs as hard as possible and make primeval grunting sounds.
Just after the bison stopped, motion nearby caught our attention. We had a thirty-second view of two coyotes, sneaking along and then vanishing into the sagebrush. We never caught another glimpse of movement, either of the coyotes or the sagebrush.
We turned West toward Norris to reach our campground for the night at Indian Creek. We arrived just in time. We took the third-to-last campsite and there were four more people in line.
After claiming our spot we headed back down toward Norris to a large meadow between Obsidian Cliff and Grizzley Lake. In 2006 we had seen seven wolves here.
Labashi made supper while I wandered down to the river, where I saw at least a dozen trout zipping about. It would have been a great evening to have a fishing rod along.
There were no wolves tonight so we continued south as far as Gibbon Meadow, glassing for wildlife. We saw a half-dozen solitary bison bulls but nothing else. Our search ended as darkness fell.
On the way back to Indian Creek we came upon a Yellowstone traffic jam. A bison was walking down the double-yellow line and traffic couldn’t pass in either direction. It was only a few minutes until the bison found its exit and we were able to pass.
Back at the campground we spent the evening blogging and reading, yet again.

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Thursday, 10 September-

We awoke early this morning and decided to go ahead and drive to some likely wildlife viewing spots.
We drove back down Pacific Creek Road when we hit the hard road we decided to take the Two Oceans Lake road (where we had seen the massive bull elk last evening). We didn’t see the elk but thought we’d take a video clip of the lake. Shortly after walking down to the lake we heard wolf howls, one across the lake and to our right, the other about a quarter mile from it on the same side of the lake. That of course got us all excited. We started walking the trail on the north side of the lake and Labashi almost immediately wanted to turn off the trail and head up into the woods toward the sound. I nixed that given the wet and frost-covered grasses and tall weeds.
We then heard a blood-curdling series of howls and yips on the south side of the lake, perhaps over the hill in that area. I happened to be shooting a video clip of the lake with the Tetons in the distance in morning light and caught this very interesting sound.
We had seen another couple in the parking lot and they had taken the trail ahead of us. But now, here they came toward us. When we met, they said two moose were on the trail ahead and it was obvious they weren’t going to move for hikers. They were going to retrace their steps to the parking lot and then take the south-side lake trail.
We wanted to see the moose so we kept going another 100 yards and there they were. They both were browsing just below the trail. Labashi took the video camera and we began moving very slowly toward the female closest to the trail. To our surprise, she raised her head and looked very directly at us, then began working toward us. The young bull also started working toward us, both of them continuing to browse but keeping a close eye on us. If we’re any judge of moose body language they weren’t upset in the least. They browsed along and stopped quite a lot, looking our way. They began to get too close for comfort so we made a quick plan to jump in to some nearby closely-spaced trees if one or the other charged. We began our slow retreat, ever watchful for any signs of agitation, and were soon away from them. But still the cow watched our every move as if to say ‘what ARE those silly creatures?’
We drove back to the hard road and headed for Colter Village. There we browsed the grocery store and visitor center. We spoke with a ranger at the visitor center and told her of our good luck at Two Ocean Lake. We even played the video clips of the wolf sounds, hoping for confirmation that they are indeed wolf and not coyote sounds but she said she’s not expert enough to help.
After Colter Village we drove north and soon hit the endless construction zone that is the road between the Grand Teton and Yellowstone this year. The roadside sign said to expect a 30-minute delay but that wasn’t a stop for 30 minutes but rather a 5-10 mph drive for miles upon miles. With all the backroad driving we’ve been doing it wasn’t a problem for us though it was incredibly dusty. “It’s like an Oregon Trail wagon train”, observed Labashi.
We drove to the end of the construction at Flagg Ranch and had lunch in the parking lot there, then headed into the Targhee National Forest via Grassy Lake Road. We drove it for about 10 miles, then turned back, deciding that we had seen the character of this area. On the way back we stopped at a one of the eight free campsites in the Targhee, figuring we may as well stay out in the Forest for free rather than push on into Yellowstone National Park only to have to pay for a very similar primitive camping with a lot of noisy people around. Our campsite (#7) has views in every direction.
After getting up so early this morning, we figured we earned a nap so opened up the van doors and took a snooze, then had supper while watching the shadows march across the mountain.
For our evening’s entertainment, we blogged and began reading in earnest about Yellowstone.

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Wednesday, 9 September-

I saw a 29-degree reading in the wee hours of the morning and we had frost on the sage around us at stand-up time today.
We awoke around 0700 and were on the road within the hour. We drove to Jenny Lake and hiked to Hidden Falls and back, a round trip of four and half miles. With the ups and downs and breaks it took us three and a half hours and tuckered us out.
We took advantage of having the van and after lunch took a short cat-nap to revive ourselves. Once again we have perfect weather and that nap in the nice warm van with a cool breeze coming in windows was heaven.
We checked out the Jenny Lake visitor center then began a driving tour. We did the Jenny Lake scenic drive, then took a long dirt-road drive to beautiful Spalding Bay on crystal-clear Lake Jackson.
We then drove up Signal Mountain where I spoke at some length with a wildlife photographer from Montana who travels in his Alaskan-brand camper (the truck camper I had hoped to see in Fort Collins but was unable to).
We then continued to the Signal Mountain turnaround where we had a spectacular view of the Snake River valley below. We found our own personal turn-out and had supper while watching the shadows start to paint the valley.
On the way down Signal Mountain we saw the biggest buck mule deer I’ve ever seen. It could be mistaken for an elk. It’s massive eight-point rack was in heavy velvet.
Driven on by our seeing the muley, we took the dirt road to Two-Oceans Lake and along the way had yet another sighting, this of a trophy bull elk. As we drove along I glanced left up a small rise and there stood the monarch, looking like he was posing for a commercial. What an incredible sight.
We then drove up nearby Pacific Creek road in the twilight and soon came to the park boundary. But it ran into the Bridger-Teton National Forest so we kept going. In a few miles the road ended at Pacific Creek campground. This one is apparently quite the jumping-off place for horse-trekking. We passed a large outfitter’s place along the way and at the trailhead was another large outfitter with what looked like a few dozen horses in the corral. The trailhead parking lot was jammed with horse-trailer rigs, apparently owned by people who rode their horses into the National Forest to camp.
We had the Pacific Creek campground to ourselves, though. I don’t mind paying half-price ($10) for very nice, private little campsite out here in the boonies.
I spent the rest of the evening blogging while Labashi read about the Oregon Trial along the Snake River.

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Tuesday, 8 Septemer-

Our temperature overnight was 30 degrees but we were very comfortable. We love these 70-80-degree sunny days and colder nights.
I thought we’d be entering Grand Teton National Park this morning but we had some errands to run in town (Jackson). We’re thinking we’ll be away from civilization for a week or so and had better stock up on supplies. I also wanted to go back to the Teton Moutaineering outdoors store for some ultra-lightweight long-johns for sleeping these cooler nights.
We spent an inordinate amount of time shopping at the Albertson’s grocery store but it really worked out well. We’re happy to find some variety. For example, in the past we’ve had some excellent low-carb tortillas from a brand called ‘La Factory’ but seldom can find them. At Albertson’s we found multiple choices in low-carb tortillas.
After shopping, we had lunch in the parking lot then went back inside to use their free wi-fi connection. I love this new trend…. upscale coffee shops and free wi-fi in grocery stores. They haven’t quite figured out they should be providing power receptacles but for the most part the wi-fi connections have been very good.
We then went to the visitor center at the National Park and bought maps and guidebooks to help us select some hikes for the next few days.
Finally, by 1500 we were on the trail. We chose to hike from Death Canyon Trailhead to the overlook for Phelps Lake. It’s only about a mile but a steady uphill and at this altitude (around 6500 ft), that will be a good start.
At the overlook I was surprised to hear my cell phone ring. I always carry it but we’ve been out of cell-phone coverage quite a bit this trip. Brother Orat called to arrange a Skype video call tonight.
After our walk we drove south and out of the park at Teton Village (ski resort) and circled back into Jackson. We found the Teton Community Library and had supper in the parking lot, then went in and made the call in one of the library meeting rooms. We both loved this fine little library. The auditorium was in use for a presentation about how to make your home ‘green’; the computers were all in use; wi-fi users and newspaper readers were strewn throughout the building; and yet it was the quietest library I’ve been in. A quick walk through the stacks and periodicals area told us it’s well equipped and up to date.
After the call we returned to the Gros Ventre campground for a second night. It was almost 2200 by the time we arrived so we went right to bed.

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Monday, 7 September – (Labor Day)

We left Whiskey Grove campground and the Bridger National Forest this morning and drove to Pinedale (WY). There we visited the Museum of the Mountain Man, a really nice and very thorough museum in the midst of the Green River rendezvous country.
The fur trade was based on demand for beaver which was made into a very fine felt, mainly for hats. Though beaver fur was used for hats as far back as the 1600s, it had never been available in such quantity until the North American fur trade began.
A beaver fur hat doesn’t look rustic as you would expect. In fact, most of them were made as fancy top hats. The Western fur trade blossomed in the early 1800s and lasted until about 1840, when most of the beaver were gone and silk and South American nutria fur replaced beaver fur as the material of choice for hatters.
The rendezvous idea was that of a St. Louis trader, William Ashley. Until 1825, trappers and Indians had to bring their furs to the trader. Ashley decided to take goods to the trappers and mountain men and return with their furs. He scheduled the first rendezvous to be held at Henry’s Fork, a tributary of the Snake River in 1825. That one lasted a day. Ashley realized he had made a mistake by not bringing liquor to that one and remedied that mistake the next year. As fur commerce grew, a Rendezvous could last for weeks with hundreds of trappers and thousands of Indians attending. Games of wilderness skill, games of chance, storytelling and of course massive drinking and the inevitable fighting marked the Rendezvous.
There were 16 Rendezvous all but three in Wyoming and six of those in the Upper Green River Valley outside of Pinedale.
After lunch in the museum parking lot, we drove northwest through the Teton-Bridger National Forest to Jackson (a/k/a Jackson Hole). We spent the afternoon walking the streets of Jackson, checking out the western clothing and artwork. That evening we had an excellent filet mignon and salads at the Cadillac Grille before leaving Jackson and driving to the nearby Gros Ventre (“Big Belly”) campground in Teton National Park for the night ($19).
We are definitely off the Oregon Trail up here. Being so close to the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone, we just had to take a bit of a detour. I had been to the Tetons briefly about ten years ago while on a business trip to Salt Lake City. My plane had landed at Salt Lake in the afternoon and I had driven eight hours or so to Jackson, arriving late. I got up early and drove in to the Park only to find the Teton Park road only open for a short distance because of snow (this was mid-May). I took a short walk to Taggart Lake in the snow (in my business shoes), then drove up to Jackson Lake, which was solid ice. I had to leave by noon to make it back to my hotel in Salt Lake that evening for my business meeting in the morning. So I’m not sure I can say I really saw much of the Tetons on that trip so we’re making up for that now.

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Sunday, 6 September-

We had rain in the night and I swear I heard sleet against the roof. When I checked the thermometer, though, the temp was in the high Forties.
This morning we idled down Horse Creek Road in the early-morning light, hoping to see some wildlife. We saw two mule deer, with their comically large ears, and a few hawks, chipmunks, and gray-jays but that was about it.
We parked beside the Wind River Gear shop where we had picked up a wi-fi signal from the nearby coffee shop. While I stopped in the shop for a cappuccino, Labashi worked on her email update to the family in the van.
I then also connected to the web to take care of some chores and check the weather for our drive this afternoon.
After lunch we found Union Pass Road and took a long, leisurely drive across the Pass. This pass across the Continental Divide was first crossed by whites— Astorians -- in 1811. After another Astorian tried it in winter and had to turn back, the Crow told him of South Pass, the pass heavily used by emigrant wagon trains beginning in the 1840s.
After a long, steep climb to Union Pass via many switchbacks, the road leveled out and we soon began traversing beautiful high-mountain meadows, one after another.
On the Continental Divide, we crossed from Shoshone National Forest to Teton National Forest and in doing so crossed the Continental Divide Trail. But the trail crossing was only in theory for us. We didn’t see any markers, trailhead, or even a sign about the Divide, just the “Welcome To Teton National Forest” sign.
We worked our way down to Mosquito Lake, then to the Green River valley, arriving by 1600. We wanted to stay in the National Forest tonight so shortly after crossing the Green, we turned in at Whiskey Grove campground and took a site ($7).
After supper we were thinking of going for a walk when I noticed a low tire. A pressure check verified it’s losing air. This is the new tire I just got 12 days ago in Normal, Ill.
Upon removing the tire I found a roofing nail firmly embedded in the tread. I elected to plug the tire and put it back on rather than use the spare. I installed the plug and began to inflate but my stupid little el-cheapo air compressor locked up after only getting the tire up to 7 psi. I had to do the rest with my beat-up old hand pump I use for the bicycle tires.
With everything back in place we decided to take the walk after all. We met and had a pleasant chat with a couple from nearby Rock Springs, up for the holiday weekend.
As we turned back from the far point of our walk we heard oddly-familiar sounds and soon saw two sandhill cranes grow from tiny specs off in the distance and land nearby. We walked as close as we could without disturbing them and watched as the male executed the jumping-up-and-down mating dance. The female appeared to ignore him and they both turned to feeding. We retreated rather than risk disturbing them any further.
Back at the van we blogged and read. I’m reading a mid-1800’s guidebook for emigrants and am finding it fascinating. Along with practical advice on what to pack, how to hobble the horses for the night, how to cross a stream, etc, there’s medical advice based on the theory that disease comes from noxious vapors emanating from swamps and riverbanks. It’s fascinating reading.

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Saturday, 5 September-

Our campground was at an altitude of over 9000 feet so we had a cooler night. The lowest temp I saw was 38 degrees. It’s a bit odd to have these low temps at night when our daytime temps are in the mid to high Eighties.
I generally try to park the van in the shade to keep it from being overheated by the sun for our sleep. But here we’re feeling the evening cool down rapidly as we take an evening walk and afterwards it feels good to get in the nice, warm van. Last evening our walk was a moonlight one. The full moon had just risen over The Pinnacles east of our campsite at Brooks Lake and enabled us to walk without flashlights and see the lake and Sublett Peak bathed in the silver moonlight.
With the lower temperatures we fired up the Buddy heater to both warm up the interior of the van and warm up some water for our morning wash-up. The heater wouldn’t start at all at first. But that often happens when I didn’t have my window open during the night as I often do. My theory is that heavier-than-air CO2 from our breathing lays in the bottom of the van and that makes the oxygen level too low for the oxygen-depletion sensor on the Buddy heater to allow propane to flow to the pilot. To remedy this, we have to open the door and allow the CO2 to flow out. And we can help it do that by turning the ventilation fan in the roof to pull in air from outside, thus pushing on the ‘bad’ air to exit.
Today this worked great—at first. Because of the significantly lower oxygen in the air, the heater would only run for about ten minutes before the O2-depletion sensor would turn it off again. After a cycle or two of this, we decided the wash-up water was warm enough and we really didn’t need to warm the interior any more.
After our wash-up, we decided we needed a morning walk. Brooks Lake is in the Washakie Wilderness of Shoshone National Forest, just east of the Continental Divide. Immediately west of the Divide is the Teton Wilderness. How could we NOT take a walk here?
We decided to walk to the Jade Lakes and return. It’s only a two-mile walk but it’s an uphill one and altitude approaches 10,000 feet. We started out with light-winter jackets given the cool morning but soon took them off as we walked fairly steeply uphill. We stopped to catch our breath more often than we’d like to admit. But our excuse was to look at the stunning scenery.
Our trail wound along the edge of a steep hill, giving us spectacular views of Brooks Lake and of Sublette Peak on ‘our’ side (the west side) of the valley and The Pinnacles on the far (east) side.
We never did make it to the Jade Lakes. We were only about .2 of a mile away (we think) but the trail had taken several forks and we weren’t sure we were on the correct branch. We took a break and decided the altitude and uphill trail had given us enough of a workout.
After lunch in our campsite, we headed to town (Dubois) for better maps plus ice and a few supplies. We found ourselves wandering around with maps with too little detail. The GPS knew the main trail (the Yellowstone Trail) but didn’t have the side trail to the Jade Lakes.
Since this is Labor Day weekend, we thought it likely to be disappointing to continue on to Grand Teton or Yellowstone. So we need better maps so we can cruise the Forest and BLM roads. We found them in the form of the Wyoming Road and Recreation Atlas at an outdoors-gear store called Wind River Gear.
Once re-supplied and better-mapped, we headed north out of Dubois on Horse Creek Road. This soon turned into Forest Road 285. We dropped in to Horse Creek campground to check the prices and availability on this busy weekend and saw they’re charging $15 for a primitive campsite with no potable water nearby and pit toilets. That seems like a bit much.
We wanted to continue exploring anyway so we continued further into the backcountry on FR 285 toward Double Cabin. And what a great decision that was.
The road itself is shown as primitive but the surface was fine—it’s just narrow and winding. The landscape around us just kept getting better and better. Before too many more miles we were looking at Yosemite-type mountains.
Twenty miles in we reached the campground at Double Cabin and we stopped beyond it at the horse camp. I loved seeing twenty-or-so horse trailers in the meadow, the horses corralled in temporary corrals, and white canvas wall tents with wood-stove pipes. From here wilderness trails go off in several directions. We’re in a high valley with rock spires all around. Now THIS is cowboy-camping.
As we drove we had picked out several dispersed-camping sites so we re-traced our steps to the best of those and set up for the night. As I type this, I’ve been watching the shadows creep across the Absoroka Range. I can see a high peak in the distance which has snow on it. LeGeed (our GPS) says we’re at 8500 feet so I’d guess I’m looking at 12,000-footers. All evening long I’ve watched the interplay of light and shadow, sometimes calling attention to one peak, canyon, or high meadow or another. Then with a change of light, an entirely different set of geographic wonders is highlighted.
Nice.

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Friday, 4 September-

With daylight we find we’re in a really, really nice campsite. A small meadow lies beside us and Cottonwood Creek is across the road. The overnight temperature dropped to 42 and once I fired up the GPS I realized why--- we’re at an elevation of over 7000 feet.
After breakfast we walked for an hour or so, just taking the camp road up to its intersection with Green Mountain Loop road and then walking another quarter mile or so to another intersection and then return to the van--- about an hour’s walk total.
With the sun warming things up to the point we could take off our jackets, we decided today’s the day to clean out the ice box. And once we had the cooler out of the van, we might as well clear everything out and sweep out our living space and do a general clean-up.
Once everything was back in place we headed up the mountain. We had come in via a loop road so we took the other side of the loop to go back. This led us up to an altitude of 9400 feet through beautiful pines to wonderful views of the valley below and the nearby mountains. We explored a side road to Wild Horse Overlook and found the views well worth the extra six miles.
By late morning we were back to the hard road and headed toward Lander. But along the way we took the turn to South Pass—the famous Oregon Trail crossing of the Continental Divide.
Our guide book took us off the hard road a few miles to an out-of-the-way historical marker. We realized we had turned onto the Oregon Trail as it crossed the Continental Divide. On our left were the Oregon Bluffs, where emigrants first entered the Oregon Territory. On our right were the peaks of the Wind River Range, beyond which lay Yellowstone National Park.
We walked the Trail to a stone marker put up by Ezra Meeker in 1905 and tried to envision what it would have been like to see the emigrant wagon trains passing this spot.
We then drove back to the hard road and turned for Lander. There we spoke with the Bureau of Land Management and US Forest Service offices, getting some tips on places to stay and making sure we understand the rules for dispersed camping in BLM and National Forest lands.
We drove for another three hours, pushing through to Brooks Lake campground in the Shoshone National Forest, arriving about a half-hour before dark. While Labashi cooked supper I walked to the lake and found the Yellowstone Trail. It’s possible to walk to Yellowstone National Park from here.
We did a little reading and blogging but we’re tired puppies tonight so that didn’t last long.

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Thursday, 3 September-

We were awakened at 0530 this morning by a worker at the golf course beside our campground. As soon as we had light, he began mowing. I guess they have to get an early start to stay ahead of the early-bird golfers.
After long, luxurious showers we drove to the nearby Register Bluffs site. This is a massive rock face inscribed by pioneers when they camped nearby. The oldest date we saw was 1850 but somewhere on that rock is an 1825 inscription. We’re now a day’s wagon-train travel from Fort Laramie and the area is beautiful. We’re along the river with a flat area perfect for an encampment and for the animals to graze. The bluffs give us a pleasant view and we can see the Laramie Mountains in the distance.
We then moved on to Casper (WY) to visit the Historic Trails Interpretation Center. Though by now we’ve seen and heard a lot, we still learned new things at the Center. One of the fun things we did was to take a virtual wagon ride across the Platt. The ‘wagon’ is a simulator. We sat on crates and barrels in the bed of the wagon and our view out the front was a video screen. Our wagon followed our two trusty oxen down an embankment and into the river, jolting us from side to side and front to back. We saw another wagon ahead of us and it was stuck. As our wagon neared, the other wagon’s wheeltree broke, dumping the driver and supplies into the river, a common occurrence on the Platte. As the men helping with the crossing went to the aid of the other rig’s driver, we managed to skirt by and climb a steep embankment out of the river.
After a late lunch in the van, we drove into Casper to the Lou Taubert Ranch Store (“Nine Floors of Everything for Your Ranch!”). We thought they might have the skort Labashi is looking for and they did indeed have one—but not the ‘right’ one.
We took a brief drive through town to get a feel for it, then went to the Wal-mart to pick up some groceries and have a tire checked. We then moved on to Independence Rock, about an hour southwest of Casper. This geographic anomaly is interesting for its geology but that wasn’t the point for the emigrants. To them, it was an important milepost. If they had made it to Independence Rock by the Independence Day, they were almost assuredly ahead of the Fall snows in the Rockies. Labashi and I walked around about half of Independence Rock but did not climb it.
As darkness neared, we began looking for our campsite for the night. We had found a cryptic entry on a Bureau of Land Management map for a campground. But it turns out that campground can only be reached by trail.
With darkness falling we searched out another campground. This one – Cottonwood Campground-- is 11 miles back a dirt road and up into the mountains. We arrived just as the last light of twilight was fading. Labashi made a scrumptious supper while I walked down to the iron ranger to pay our $6 fee.
We spent about an hour reading and catching up the blog but struggled to keep awake. It has been a long, very fruitful day.

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Wednesday, 2 September-

This morning we went to Ed Carroll Motors, the only dealer for Alaskan-brand truck campers in the lower 48 states. I’ve long been fascinated by these campers, ever since seeing one in the early Seventies. They are unique in that they can raise and lower the top portion of the camper body to provide good gas mileage while travelling and good headspace in camp. They also have hard panels which fold into place rather than a tent fabric for the extended portion. And they are well-insulated and supremely simple. (Unfortunately, they also cost $25,000).
I was disappointed to find that the dealership had just last week sold the last one in stock and they won’t be getting any others in for two months. However, I was able to talk at length with their specialist in these campers.
I really, really like these campers but it only took a half-hour’s conversation with Labashi to realize they aren’t as practical for us as Mocha Joe. First, we don’t have a pickup so we’d have to not only pay the $25K for the unit but that again for a ¾-ton pickup to haul it. Therefore, I think we could replace Mocha Joe (outfitted as we like it) for half the price.
But as we talked through how we’d use it (compared to how we use our van today), we realized there’s a very bad day-to-day usage tradeoff. Today, if one of us has to use our on-board porta-potty, it’s very accessible. Just pull into a parking area, go around to the side doors and there you are. But with a retractable-top truck camper, you’d have to first push the button to raise the top and wait the minute-or-so for that to happen. But once that top has lifted up, the folding panels are not in place. You wouldn’t necessarily have to put them in place just to use the potty but if the weather is rainy or cold, you’d either want to do that to keep out the weather or you’d risk soaking the cab-over mattress. That’s not good!
So, it appears the Alaskan camper isn’t for us. When Mocha Joe needs to be replaced, we’ll probably go with another van-style design.
With that settled, we had a few more little items to do before heading out. We tracked down a General Nutrition Center to buy some protein powder for our morning yogurt/pecan cup breakfast (yummy!) (for our low-carb diet). We also had to track down the local AAA for a map of Wyoming which would meet the navigator’s (Labashi’s) exacting standards.
After a quick lunch in a local park, we headed back up I-25 to Wyoming. Our goal today was Fort Laramie.
At the Fort we learned of the storied history of the Fort. Briefly, it had been put in place as one of a chain of supply forts for emigrants as well as the chief site for treaty negotiations with Indians of the northern Plains. Unfortunately, by the 1870’s it was a key site for staging troops for the Indian Wars on those Plains. Eventually, though, its mission was eclipsed by Fort Robison (which was nearer the reservations) and was shuttered. Today, the Fort has reconstructed buildings, many of which are completely furnished with historically-accurate furniture, clothing and goods.
After our Fort Laramie tour, we drove West about a half-hour to Guernsey, WY where we visited the Oregon Trail Ruts site.
Tonight we camped at a small campground across from the Trail Ruts. You can’t beat $7.50 for a site and hot showers.
We spent the evening blogging and reading.

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Tuesday, 1 September-

We had a doozy of a night last night. In the evening, the wind started building and by bedtime it was howling. We had parked in the open and the wind noise was so bad that we had to move to a more sheltered parking spot close to the Wal-mart building. But we couldn’t get close enough. Though the wind was quieter, it was still rocking the van from side to side, keeping us awake. We thought through everywhere we had been through the day as to whether those locations would offer better protection but none did. Around midnight I went into the Wal-mart to buy two scissors jacks to stabilize the rolling. But they only had one jack in stock, so I gave up on the idea. I wasn’t very happy with it anyway given that I’d have to spend $40 or so. We thought of going to a motel but we had noticed the local Motel 6 was charging $70 a night so that wouldn’t be cheap. I’d rather just stay up all night and then sleep in once the wind dies. And if it didn’t die by morning, we could move to the heavily treed city park (which is closed at night).
But we finally got lucky. Shortly after I returned to the van from my shopping trip for the jacks, the wind began to die. Twenty minutes later, the wind had died enough for us to get to sleep and we slept very heavily until 0700 and awoke refreshed.
We left Chadron with the GPS set for Cheyenne, Wyoming, about three hours away. The drive was wonderful. We had great scenery both nearby and off in the distance (the buttes) as we crossed the very verdant grasslands.
We hadn’t had a full shower for a few days so Labashi wanted to wash her hair. We happened upon a pull-off for an historical marker which was perfect for this. It was deep enough that we were off the road by 50 yards and I was able to park the van across the wind to create a wind-less area with the warming sun directly on us (it was about 60 degrees out this morning).
I heated up two small pots of water to slowly dribble over each other’s hair for the soaping and rinsing processes and we soon were squeaky-clean and refreshed. We like these little road-side adventures—at least in this warmer weather. Washing up outdoors is a lot less fun when the temperature is below 50 or we can’t get out of the wind.
We then carried on toward Cheyenne until the Agate Fossil Beds National Monument. This site is the location of an ancient waterhole which existed in a very dry climate. Animals had to stay within walking distance of the waterhole but in dry years they’d eat all the grass within walking distance and die of malnutrition, typically near the waterhole. Over time this left a remarkable bone pile which was uncovered at the turn of the 19th-20th Centuries.
The remarkable find was made by the ranch owner. He invited university specialists to his ranch and scientific history was made.
The rancher also collected Indian artifacts and his collection is also in the visitor’s center.
After our tour of the center, we walked to the nearby fossil digs in the middle of this 90-degree day. The sun was intense but with the low humidity, we were very comfortable. We walked three miles and this time I had my camera along in case of another encounter with a rattlesnake (but no such luck).
After a late lunch we continued to Cheyenne, where we finally were able to get the filet mignon dinner we were looking for yesterday.
I didn’t like the looks of the Wal-mart at Cheyenne (the parking lot sloped too much) so we continued on into Colorado to Fort Collins.
There we found a pleasant little Wal-mart and then drove to the nearby library to spend two hours catching up on email and posting the blog before returning to Chez Wally for the night.



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