Day 7
Wyoming.
Unbelievable.
Wide open.
Huge sky above us.
Clouds that hide the mountaintops.
The tallest, skinniest pines I have ever seen with growth only at the top of them.
3 billion year old Granite Gneiss creates a tunnel effect around us and along side the road, boulders the size of our camper lean toward the highway as if to tumble over the rails. I am not prepared for the splendor and magnificence that is Wyoming, but I am a believer now. As I write this, I am looking at the snow-covered mountain off in the distance known as Cloud Peak, a 13,167 foot peak that is snow covered and simply breathtaking and out of this world. Bennie says it looks like a painting, and I believe he is trying to convey the dreamlike quality of the site before us. The truck struggles and moans and wines as we sluggishly make our way to the top and the pain in my ears is throbbing and pressure-filled. I keep looking at Ben as if to ask, “Are we going to make it?” and he gives me the “Oh my gosh” look! When we finally get to the top, we stop at a scenic viewpoint, and we exit the truck. Freezing! It is only 40 degrees and the ground beneath our feet is spotted with some ice and snow. We stare off to Cloud Peak and I realize that there are really no words to explain to you what I feel inside as I view the heavenly, glacier-like mass off in the distance. I have decided that if there is a God, he created clouds as mountain head dresses. One cannot be without the other. When you look at the view, you are not sure where the peak ends and the clouds begin, so the optical illusion adds to the divine experience.
After we return to the truck, we make our way into the mountains we have just looked at. We climb, we fall, we climb again, and we are welcomed by the most devastatingly massive rock formations and canyons I have ever seen. As we navigate the hair pin turns and narrow, well maintained highway, the rock formations are red and tan, and gargantuan in size. The signs on the side of the road educate us. The rock in the Big Horn Mountains, Granite Gneiss, is three billion years old and others are 500-700 million years old. We marvel at the smooth rock in some places and the intricate ridges in others. The rocks dwarf us, and again, we find ourselves in awe of the glory of the Earth around us. To be here, today, encapsulated in these ancient rocky mountains, I have to wonder about the creation of our planet. We switchback down after a quick stop at the top to take some pics, and the rocks get more and more beautiful and canyons and ravines reveal themselves to us. We can hear a creek at the bottom, and we pass barns with caved in roofs that look as if one of the mountains has sat on them. As we come back down to earth, we pass deep, ruddy red buttes and look back from where we just came. I keep saying, “Wow,” and “Oh my God.”
At this point, Bennie is videotaping and I hear a sound like he has dropped the camera out of the window, as if plastic has just hit the road’s surface. I ask him what it was and he says he doesn’t know, and he is still holding the camera. After a few more miles, we hear a repetitive flomp, flomp, flomp and Bennie asks, “What is that sound?”
Ben stops the truck to inspect the camper, and he yells, “Oh no, we have a flat tire on the truck!”
I begin to panic. We are literally in the middle of nowhere, somewhere between Cody, Wyoming and Buffalo, Wyoming, and I can feel my anxiety starting to develop. The boys have a nervous look on their faces and I know they are reading our faces in order to know how to react. Ben begins the tedious job of changing the tire which I believe will be complicated by the fact that we have a 30 foot travel trailer connected to us. We have pulled into a driveway of some sort with a gate but the ranch house itself is at least a mile away. As I try to be helpful to Ben (which is often unhelpful and can lead to fights—ladies, you know what I mean) I look down to the ranch and the red rock mountain that is its backdrop. What a view. I wish you could see what I was seeing as Ben changed the tire. I worry about him and hope all will be fine in just a few minutes, and as I get the boys away from the camper, I see a Dodge Ram heading up to us from the far away ranch. Apparently he had been watching us with binoculars and he and his son ventured up to see if we needed help. I decide I will talk to him because, frankly, I never pass up an opportunity to talk to a cowboy; it is some strange fetish leftover from my John Travolta Urban Cowboy days, and as I put my face in the passenger window, I see a 10-year-old boy and a man with the straightest, whitest teeth I have ever seen.
“I just bet you are on your way to Yellowstone, right?”
I smile and say, “Yes. I hope we are not in your way?”
“No problem. How are you making out? You will need to get a new tire in Cody, which is an hour and a half from here. You will probably have to spend the night there.”
This, by the way, is not part of the plan.
“Maybe we could spend the night with you,” I say.
Just kidding. Had you there for a moment, huh?
He then tells me more info about shortcuts and where we are going. The cowboy has taken my mind off the tire change and as I return to the truck, Ben is nearly finished. He checks the tire pressure on the spare and off we go. I was very worried, but I think all will be well. We will have to replace both back tires, not just one, and I spend my time searching the KOA book for a campground near Cody. Detours have always added interesting things to my life, so here we go!
By the way, in the middle of Wyoming, the nearest Walmart is 86 miles away! The cowboy gave me that information. I am so spoiled by our Hometown Walmart that if I had to live 86 miles away from Walmart, it would be the end of civilization as I know it! I know Walmart is evil. Michelle, I know you are reading this, so I need to reinforce this. I know Walmart is evil, but ME LIKES WALMART! Ben comments that all of the ranchers seem to have an RV. I think it is because Walmart is 86 miles away and you need a car you can sleep and shower in if you need to go there. One more thing about the local color: as we pass the ranchers, each nods or tips his hat. ME LIKES COWBOYS TOO! The 86 miles to Walmart must be some sort of metrical, western measurement because it seems like 886 miles long when you have to listen to your youngest son sing that annoying song from Madagascar ad nauseum:
“She like to move it, move it. He like to move it, move it. We like to movie it, move it.” Over and over. Over and over.
“Mom needs to move out, move out!” I start humming to myself.
After hours, we finally arrive in Cody, Wyoming which is a small, tourist town surrounded by gorgeous mountains. Like most Western town, it has that Americana feel with its flat-fronted stores and their flat roofs. I like it here a great deal, so this detour has been worth it. Cody reminds me a college town and it is alive, alive, alive. We roll down the window and smells of steak, pizza, and grilling waft into our car. It has been hours and hours since we have eaten and we just want some food and some rest. The stress of the blown out tire and waiting to reach civilization has taken a toll on us. We were on roads today that I wonder why were ever built, and seeing people and stores is a relief to me. I am not really an explorer I guess! I found the Ponderosa Campground in the AAA guide, so we go there, but when we arrive, even though it is only past 8:00 and very light outside with tons of activity, the office is closed and does not seem to allow for late arrivals which work on the honor system. I am agitated NOW! I go back to the guide and find a park called Absaroka Bay RV park, call the office, and the man welcomes me and tells me to come right over, but now we have to find it!
So here we are in Absaroka for the night. I throw some sausage and potatoes on the grill, the boys play Star Wars action figures and I continually ref their disagreements. I think we are all a little stressed, but, friends, YOU SHOULD SEE THE VIEW!
Wyoming.
Unbelievable.
Wide open.
Huge sky above us.
Clouds that hide the mountaintops.
The tallest, skinniest pines I have ever seen with growth only at the top of them.
3 billion year old Granite Gneiss creates a tunnel effect around us and along side the road, boulders the size of our camper lean toward the highway as if to tumble over the rails. I am not prepared for the splendor and magnificence that is Wyoming, but I am a believer now. As I write this, I am looking at the snow-covered mountain off in the distance known as Cloud Peak, a 13,167 foot peak that is snow covered and simply breathtaking and out of this world. Bennie says it looks like a painting, and I believe he is trying to convey the dreamlike quality of the site before us. The truck struggles and moans and wines as we sluggishly make our way to the top and the pain in my ears is throbbing and pressure-filled. I keep looking at Ben as if to ask, “Are we going to make it?” and he gives me the “Oh my gosh” look! When we finally get to the top, we stop at a scenic viewpoint, and we exit the truck. Freezing! It is only 40 degrees and the ground beneath our feet is spotted with some ice and snow. We stare off to Cloud Peak and I realize that there are really no words to explain to you what I feel inside as I view the heavenly, glacier-like mass off in the distance. I have decided that if there is a God, he created clouds as mountain head dresses. One cannot be without the other. When you look at the view, you are not sure where the peak ends and the clouds begin, so the optical illusion adds to the divine experience.
After we return to the truck, we make our way into the mountains we have just looked at. We climb, we fall, we climb again, and we are welcomed by the most devastatingly massive rock formations and canyons I have ever seen. As we navigate the hair pin turns and narrow, well maintained highway, the rock formations are red and tan, and gargantuan in size. The signs on the side of the road educate us. The rock in the Big Horn Mountains, Granite Gneiss, is three billion years old and others are 500-700 million years old. We marvel at the smooth rock in some places and the intricate ridges in others. The rocks dwarf us, and again, we find ourselves in awe of the glory of the Earth around us. To be here, today, encapsulated in these ancient rocky mountains, I have to wonder about the creation of our planet. We switchback down after a quick stop at the top to take some pics, and the rocks get more and more beautiful and canyons and ravines reveal themselves to us. We can hear a creek at the bottom, and we pass barns with caved in roofs that look as if one of the mountains has sat on them. As we come back down to earth, we pass deep, ruddy red buttes and look back from where we just came. I keep saying, “Wow,” and “Oh my God.”
At this point, Bennie is videotaping and I hear a sound like he has dropped the camera out of the window, as if plastic has just hit the road’s surface. I ask him what it was and he says he doesn’t know, and he is still holding the camera. After a few more miles, we hear a repetitive flomp, flomp, flomp and Bennie asks, “What is that sound?”
Ben stops the truck to inspect the camper, and he yells, “Oh no, we have a flat tire on the truck!”
I begin to panic. We are literally in the middle of nowhere, somewhere between Cody, Wyoming and Buffalo, Wyoming, and I can feel my anxiety starting to develop. The boys have a nervous look on their faces and I know they are reading our faces in order to know how to react. Ben begins the tedious job of changing the tire which I believe will be complicated by the fact that we have a 30 foot travel trailer connected to us. We have pulled into a driveway of some sort with a gate but the ranch house itself is at least a mile away. As I try to be helpful to Ben (which is often unhelpful and can lead to fights—ladies, you know what I mean) I look down to the ranch and the red rock mountain that is its backdrop. What a view. I wish you could see what I was seeing as Ben changed the tire. I worry about him and hope all will be fine in just a few minutes, and as I get the boys away from the camper, I see a Dodge Ram heading up to us from the far away ranch. Apparently he had been watching us with binoculars and he and his son ventured up to see if we needed help. I decide I will talk to him because, frankly, I never pass up an opportunity to talk to a cowboy; it is some strange fetish leftover from my John Travolta Urban Cowboy days, and as I put my face in the passenger window, I see a 10-year-old boy and a man with the straightest, whitest teeth I have ever seen.
“I just bet you are on your way to Yellowstone, right?”
I smile and say, “Yes. I hope we are not in your way?”
“No problem. How are you making out? You will need to get a new tire in Cody, which is an hour and a half from here. You will probably have to spend the night there.”
This, by the way, is not part of the plan.
“Maybe we could spend the night with you,” I say.
Just kidding. Had you there for a moment, huh?
He then tells me more info about shortcuts and where we are going. The cowboy has taken my mind off the tire change and as I return to the truck, Ben is nearly finished. He checks the tire pressure on the spare and off we go. I was very worried, but I think all will be well. We will have to replace both back tires, not just one, and I spend my time searching the KOA book for a campground near Cody. Detours have always added interesting things to my life, so here we go!
By the way, in the middle of Wyoming, the nearest Walmart is 86 miles away! The cowboy gave me that information. I am so spoiled by our Hometown Walmart that if I had to live 86 miles away from Walmart, it would be the end of civilization as I know it! I know Walmart is evil. Michelle, I know you are reading this, so I need to reinforce this. I know Walmart is evil, but ME LIKES WALMART! Ben comments that all of the ranchers seem to have an RV. I think it is because Walmart is 86 miles away and you need a car you can sleep and shower in if you need to go there. One more thing about the local color: as we pass the ranchers, each nods or tips his hat. ME LIKES COWBOYS TOO! The 86 miles to Walmart must be some sort of metrical, western measurement because it seems like 886 miles long when you have to listen to your youngest son sing that annoying song from Madagascar ad nauseum:
“She like to move it, move it. He like to move it, move it. We like to movie it, move it.” Over and over. Over and over.
“Mom needs to move out, move out!” I start humming to myself.
After hours, we finally arrive in Cody, Wyoming which is a small, tourist town surrounded by gorgeous mountains. Like most Western town, it has that Americana feel with its flat-fronted stores and their flat roofs. I like it here a great deal, so this detour has been worth it. Cody reminds me a college town and it is alive, alive, alive. We roll down the window and smells of steak, pizza, and grilling waft into our car. It has been hours and hours since we have eaten and we just want some food and some rest. The stress of the blown out tire and waiting to reach civilization has taken a toll on us. We were on roads today that I wonder why were ever built, and seeing people and stores is a relief to me. I am not really an explorer I guess! I found the Ponderosa Campground in the AAA guide, so we go there, but when we arrive, even though it is only past 8:00 and very light outside with tons of activity, the office is closed and does not seem to allow for late arrivals which work on the honor system. I am agitated NOW! I go back to the guide and find a park called Absaroka Bay RV park, call the office, and the man welcomes me and tells me to come right over, but now we have to find it!
So here we are in Absaroka for the night. I throw some sausage and potatoes on the grill, the boys play Star Wars action figures and I continually ref their disagreements. I think we are all a little stressed, but, friends, YOU SHOULD SEE THE VIEW!
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