West to East across the USA [“Portland to Maryland”]: September 2015 (links to the pictures fixed)

[Jabus]

Day 5: Moses Lake to Walla Walla (continued)

The surprise of the day was Starbuck, a small town on Route 261. The population, as confirmed by the waitress at the Rawhide Bar n Grill, is a mere 123 people. The Rawhide Bar n Grill is in the center of town and has real character. Coffee is “self-service, pay by donations.”

The Rawhide burger…

One of the locals was terrorizing the two waitresses by pretending not to know what he wanted to eat and changing his order every time they finished writing it down. He had an impressive moustache and a very naughty smile. If memory serves me right, the waitress standing to the left said she has been working in the bar for 23 years!

At the Rawhide, you can get everything in the Bar… Anti-freeze, De-icer, Carb-cleaner, Diesel Fuel Supplement, Slime Tube sealant, Pepsi and Coke. All on the same shelf!
I had to smile at the poster on the notice board that read “Dayton Depression and Bi-Polar support group” every Sunday for 7:00 to 8:30pm in nearby Dayton…

And you can listen to a proper Jukebox. I made an investment in my sanity and chose “Keep on Loving you” by REO Speedwagon, (little did I know... see Day 13’s ride report), “Thunderstruck” AC/DC, “Hey Jude” Beatles…

Lewis and Clark route (12).

After passing through the beautiful little historic towns of Dayton and Waitsburg I arrive late in the afternoon in Walla Walla. Tonight I will link up with my friend Vaughn. We will ride together and meet his wife, Lea, in Minneapolis.
We meet in the lobby to plan our route for the next couple of days. Vaughn thought he would be able to rent a GPS at EagleRider. When they did not have a GPS he bought a Map Book. We both like maps and start to track possible routes with our fingers on the map. I tell him the story of my Garmin 276 GPS and how I purchased a 2Gb memory complete with the North American maps (excluding Canada and Mexico) from someone in Moscow. I paid via PayPal and 30days later it arrived in my mailbox! I therefore renamed my GPS to “Putin” for this trip

We make the gentleman’s agreement that I will do the route planning on the GPS while he will look for good food along the way. Riding with Vaughn implies that we will definitely not starve! One of the specialties in Walla Walla is Onion Rings. Vaughn quickly locates The Green Lantern Restaurant, the Onion Rings is superb and we wash it down with an “Icicle Dirty Face Amber”.

 

[Jabus]

Day6: Walla-Walla to Missoula

Route: Route 12 (see Pat’s description below)

A message from a friend, Pat:

“Rosie gave me your itinerary because she thought that I could give you some advice. Overall, it looks great but I think that you would like it better with some changes. I rode my bike across the US from Seattle to Washington, DC in the summer of 1998, which, BTW, was one of the hottest summers on record in the history of the earth.

Your first route to Walla Walla is OK. However, I would go through Missoula, MT instead of Boise since this is a much more scenic route on Route 12, which parallels the Indian road that our famous explorers, Meriwether Lewis and William Clark, travelled back to the east from the Pacific Ocean in 1806 when no other white men lived in this area. Historical markers are present along the highway which describe what the explorer group did on a particular date. I remember the road as a gradual rise to 2185 feet at Alpowa Summit but with a spectacular downhill drop to Clarkston, WA across the Snake River from Lewiston, ID (see the Lewis and Clark names in the towns - stop in Lewiston’s downtown for a break). Route 12 then rises again after the town but you will be traveling along the Clearwater River, which is gorgeous with the mountains higher and closer to the river than further west. This area was one of the prettiest places in Idaho and travels through the Nez Perce National Historical Park and Indian Reservation. Stay on Route 12 to Missoula, Montana because you will be following the Lochsa River up through the Lolo Pass. On the day that I was on the road, a logging helicopter was carrying 12 to 18 inch diameter logs on a hook attached to a tether attached to the bottom of the copter. These are the Bitterroot Mountains which are wild and beautiful with the white water Lochsa River on your right. This is a definite selfie stop because the river in the spring is continuous white froth in many places. However, I cannot guarantee if you will see as much. Once you are down the pass it is an easy drop to Missoula which has a vibrant downtown. You can then ride on I-90 to Bozeman in about 3 hours but remember that this is Big Sky Country. The trip from Walla Walla to Missoula is about 318 miles and will take 6 hours, 5 minutes according to the map. This is a very long day on motorcycles in the Rocky Mountains even if you don’t stop!! Also, this is the northwest US with very unpredictable weather…the people say that if you don’t like the weather, just wait 5 minutes because it will change. When I crossed the MacDonald Pass from Missoula to Bozeman, it was snowing so be prepared for anything from heat and humidity to ice and snow in the space of 100 miles as it is 'hard country for hard men’.

I would recommend cutting down on your day in the Rocky Mountains because you will make it up when you are in eastern South Dakota where it is very boring and speeding is what you want to do on Nazi..

Have fun!

Pat”

Pat and Rosie provided some inspiration for undertaking this trip, (which I will explain later in the RR). Pat made a trip across America on a bicycle!

US 12 snakes along the river and the twist and turns through the forest take some concentration. The biggest danger would be an Elk or smaller deer cross the road in front of you.

Beautiful wooden bridges connect hiking trails on either side of the river…

Most of the rural communities have well maintained cemeteries. I think the way that societies respect and maintain the grave sites of previous generations says something about the psyche of a nation. I hate to think what the state of Klerksdorp’s Municipal cemetery says about us…

 

[Jabus]

Day6: Walla-Walla to Missoula (continued)

Vaughn introduced me to the small-town-café-culture and gave some good tips on how to spot a great location. Without exception, they provided great atmosphere and good value for money meals. Expect to be served by an experienced waitress who has a sort of “café-wisdom”. They can sum up a customer with a quick glance….

The Krystal Café had a great collection of fishing trophies…

Vaughn recommends a “Chicken fried steak” which is probably the American version of a Wiener Schnitzel. I order one and ask for it to be served without any starch. The waitress makes sure that the entire restaurant hears when she relays the order “Two Chicken Fried Steaks. One of them without starch” to the Chef. “No starch???!!!” replies the Chef. The waitress looks in our direction with a naughty smile and replies “NO STARCH!!!”…
When the plates are served our waitress repeats the “no starch”….. Vaughn looks at my plate and giggles, “You will notice that Corn is not considered a starch in this part of the world…”. (Never mind the apple pie and French toast that is served as a side dish)

Route 12 follows the river for the best part of 300km non-stop. Along the way people stop next to the road to do fly fishing.

Crossing from Idaho into Montana.

Montana is big sky country...

Almost 7hours on the road which required lots of concentration!

Vaughn doesn’t disappoint and quickly finds a good restaurant (The Depot) with a great atmosphere in downtown Missoula.

A 14oz prime rib at “The Depot” in Missoula.

Vaughn finishes his and I take a doggy bag which I would appreciate the next day in Yellowstone National Park.

 

[Jabus]

Day 7: Missoula to West Yellowstone

Route: I90 East to Cardwell, 359 to Harrison, 287 via Ennis to West Yellowstone via 191

Last night, we stayed over at the Howard Johnson in Missoula. (We are staying over at cheap motels that we book on short notice…go figure). As we strap our bags onto the bikes, Vaughn asks: “So how was the hotel?” Without looking up, I respond, ”I think the HoJo has lost its MoJo”. Then I continue: “You shouldn’t take this personally Vaughn, but I’m going to skip a couple of meals today…” He just laughs it off with, "No, I won’t, and in fact, lots of people have told me that exact thing before….”

The section of road from Missoula to Harrison was supposed to be an easy ride but it is cold and we have to stop to add another layer. Because the interstate is slightly elevated from the surroundings, we are exposed to cross-winds and, of course, the turbulence of the big trucks. The scenery does, however, give meaning to Montana being “Big Sky Country”. I love the mountainous yet open landscape!

In Cardwell we stopped to stretch our legs. I notice the wooden sign on the corrugated iron shack next to the road. It has a list of names and is from the Cardwell Community Church. While I stand a look at the sign, Vaughn asks from behind in a deep voice, “Is your name on the list brother?”

Open skies!

Ennis is a quaint little town and one where I will definitely spend more time when I ever have the chance. The atmosphere is, however, becoming more and more touristy as we edge closer to Yellowstone National Park. We cross the Madison River as we leave Ennis, next stop is West Yellowstone.

And Floyd even finds time to grab a cappuccino at a McDonald's along the way.

 

[Jabus]

Day 7: Missoula to West Yellowstone (continued)

Checking into the Hotel in West Yellowstone, I notice that the majority of the tourists are from China and Japan. I ask the young guy at reception how long it would take to drive East to West through the Park. He replies: “Normally it would take you about 5–6 hours, but it depends….” “Depends on what?” I ask. His colleague replies from behind his desk: “How many animals you see, and….. sometimes you might get stuck in a Bison blockade”. “Bison blockade, what is that….? ” I ask. The young man replies, “Sometimes when people see a lot of Bison, they stop to take pictures and they block the road”. Oh that shouldn’t be a big deal; we are on bikes after all, I think to myself…

Vaughn says that he is going to take a stroll through town and I decide to maximize my time in Yellowstone and take an afternoon drive through the Park. YR.no predicts late afternoon rain and clouds are building so I decide to head towards the Park’s major attraction, “Old Faithfull” before the rain sets in.

The entrance to Yellowstone National Park is a couple of minutes away from the hotel and for some reason, the entrance to the Park is free today. I look at the lady at reception and ask myself why do all “National Park Ladies” look the same? Grey(ish) hair, normally tied into a soft ponytail, soft but intelligently bright eyes… Jane Goodall replicas…
The scenery is breathtakingly beautiful. The first strange thing that I notice is how the tourists stop next to the road, get out of their cars and walk around. Photographers set up their tripods and cameras with massive lenses everywhere in the veld. The second is the Sulphur smell in the air that must be from the geysers, which is soon noticeable through puffs of smoke everywhere.

I see my first Elk….

And first Bison… They are big but not as imposing as an African Buffalo, impressive to see in real life nonetheless….

Arriving at “Old Faithfull” I must stand out in my biking gear….. And the tourists from the East confuse me for a Game Ranger. After the umpteenth one stops and asks me “Excuse-a-me-a-sir…. Where-is-da-old-a-fait-a-fool?” I just point in a general direction and get the “Hô” reply from them…

There is a general pavilion where you can sit and wait for the next eruption of the old lady…. The (real) game ranger walks past and announces, “15minutes, next eruption in 15 minutes...” He is followed by a stream of camera-carrying-facebook-profile-updating-tourists asking, “How-a-long –a-sir…” Without missing a beat, or looking left or right, he repeats, “15minutes, next eruption in 15 minutes...” The Chinese guy next to me touches me by the arm and asks “How-a-long –a-sir…?”. I look him straight in the eyes and repeat s-l-o-w-l-y…… P-i-p-t-e-e-n minutes. He smiles, moves his head up and down and conveys the message to his friends. Pipteen, they repeat one after another and give me the thumbs up.

Old faithful in a meditative state….

Almost on que Old Faithfull starts to perform….. Sy begin keelskoonmaak, grom-en-blaas amper soos ‘n hond wat gereed maak om te kots…..

Dan gee sy so klein kotsie…. Die Amerikaanse studente agter my sê “Right, that was it, Let’s go fellas….” En maak of hulle opstaan. Die Chinesie langs my se hele wêreld stort in duie…. hy kyk angstig na my, trek sy skouers op en vra “Finished….? “

Dan gee Old Faithfull ‘n laaaang burp en spoeg met geweld ‘n pluim water die lug in… Die Chinesies begin spontaan hande klap…. Volksvreemd dink ek by myself….

Old Faithfull’s show is impressive lasts about 15minutes. I take a stroll back to the parking area and sit flat on my bum next to the bike and eat the remaining 7 ounces of last night’s 14oz prime rib. I stroke the seat of the bike and rename her to “Old-a- Fait-a-full”. Before the trip I christened him “The Nazi” because I was convinced that he was going to torture me on this trip... But now he is turning into a she……

The Continental divide runs through the Park

Photographers paradise….

The foul Sulphur smell is apparent as you get close to the geysers.

The next morning I meet Vaughn at the bikes and he nonchalantly asks “So how was the hotel”…. I know what he is referring to….. Accommodation in West Yellowstone is very expensive, and I can’t remember when last I paid so much money for a bed and a shower. I respond with: “I now know that there is a fine line between consensual sex and rape….” Without missing a beat he responds “Yes….it all depends on the length of the pause between the words “Don’t” and “Stop”. “You are a sick man…” is all that I can get out.

 

[Jabus]

Day 7: Missoula to West Yellowstone (continued)

Yellowstone is an absolute paradise for photographers. It’s best to explore with a good SLR camera rather than a simple point-and-shoot “Kiekiekakker” if you really want to capture its beauty. But hey, no matter what camera you use, you can still get some amazing shots! Here are a few bonus pictures to give you a taste of what you can expect.

 

[Jabus]

As promised in the RR of Day 4, I am posting another "story" that I wrote to Elmarie about an incident that happened when I took the photo at Mt Rainier. It links to a scene that I saw 2 weeks later in Michaux State Park.

“Still Pretty”

Ek volg Paradise Road wat Stevens Canyon Road word en vat Roete 123 noord en swaai dan af op Hwy 410. (Ek sukkel nog om te vestaan wat nou eintlik die verskil tussen ‘n “Route”, ‘n “Highway”, ‘n “Turnpike” en ‘n gewone “Road” is). Op die GPS se skerm kronkel-vou die Chinnook Pas terug op homelf. Amper soos ‘n mens ‘n filo-deeg sal vou. (Nou nie dat ek al ooit iets in my lewe gebak het nie!).

Die roete neem my nou geleidelik verder van Mt Rainier. Ek kyk heeltyd terug na die berg, amper soos om ‘n geliefde by die lughawe af te gee. Ek probeer my laaste “mental pic” van Mt Rainier vasvat, daai laaste bietjie lekker onder uit die kondensmelkblik te probeer krap. Jy weet dit is verby, maar jy wil nog die laaste mooi herinnering op jou brein tatoeër…

Die berg se aansig verander om elke draai. Ek wonder waar die beste plek is om ‘n “poskaartfoto” van Mt Rainier te neem. Nou versper die hoë bome my uitsig, dan ‘n berghang. Ek sien ‘n kleinerige karretjie langs die pad staan. (‘n Klein karretjie in die VSA is opsigself ‘n rare gesig). ‘n Entjie verder sit ‘n jongman in swart geklee . Soos ek nader kom sien ek sy kamera is netjies op ‘n driepoot opgestel. Hy buk vooroor, maak ‘n verstelling aan die kamera en sit weer terug. In die verbygaan knik my kop na links. Hy glimlag en vat net aan sy pet. Uit die hoek van my oog sien ek die pragtige aansig wat die ruiter-in-swart in sy visier het. Die pad vernou weens padwerke en ek moet konsentreer. Soos die 3 susters van Drie Susters fluister ek vir myself “Jy moet fokus my kind”.

Ek is klaar spyt ek het nie gestop nie, en besluit om om te draai. “Photographer’s remorse”: dis mos wanneer jy daai beeld in jou gedagtes terugspeel en weet jy het die knoppie ‘n oomblik te vroeg, te laat of glad nie gedruk nie. Laasgenoemde is die ergste graad van hierdie “siekte”. Ek weet ek moet omdraai anders gaan hierdie prentjie vir altyd in my kop terugspeel.
Die pad is smal. Ek sal omdraaiplek moet kry maar die pad vernou verder. Dit is afdraand en die padwerke maak die pad ongelyk.

Ek draai om en ry stadig nader, amper soos mens in die wildtuin sal maak as jy uit respek ‘n stilstaande voertuig nader. “You’ve got a beautiful spot” sê ek vir die ruiter-in-swart wat sy kameratoerusting reeds opgepak het. Hy het ‘n melkbaard en het ‘n gebreide wolpet op sy kop. Hy het al die tekens van ‘n tipiese nagraadse ingenieurstudent. Bietjie meer volwasse as ‘n voorgraadse student. Effens “nerderig”, maar nie te erg nie. Effens oorgewig, maar nie te erg nie. Sy stap, tone in die 10 voor 2 posisie, buig sy knieë net effens, ook kenmerkend “nerderig”. Maar nie te erg nie. Ek draai my kop en kyk na die karakters in sy kiekie. Bome links. ‘n Helder meer in die voorgrond wat vroegoggend mooi weerkaatsings gooi. ‘n Berghang regs. Mt Rainier vertolk die hoofrol.

Ek gaan sit. Om hierdie poskaartfoto van Mt Rainier vas te vang het jy eintlik ‘n behoorlike wyehoeklens nodig. Ek pluk my kiekiekakker uit my sak en dink aan my vriend, Theo. Toe ek hom op ‘n dag gevra het hoe “wyd” sy nuwe wyehoeklens nou eintlik is het hy geantwoord “So wyd soos die Heer se genade”.

Ek draai terug na hom. Ons oë maak kontak. Hy glimlag en sê “Still pretty”. Niks meer nie. Hy sien duidelik die vraagtekens op my gesig, maar sê niks. Ek herrangskik die woorde in my kop
”Still pretty…
Pretty still…
Still pretty….
Hy staan doodstil, sê steeds niks. Glimlag net. Dit is nog ’n eienskap van ‘n “nerderige” ingenieurstudent; hulle gee net sulke kriptiese wenke, onderbreek deur stiltes. Amper asof hulle vir jou wil sê: “Lei hierdie vergelyking maar self uit eerste beginsels af…”
Pretty Still….
Still pretty……
Die woorde maal in my kop”

Meteens vang ek sy woordspeling op “still photography”. Ek glimlag. “Oh yeah, I get it”. “Still pretty, indeed”. Hy glimlag tevrede, trek aan sy pet, amper ‘n soort van nerd-saluut wat hy vir my gee en stap tevrede weg.

Dit was twee weke gelede. Vandag, skaars ‘n paar kilometer nadat ek die Michaux Staatsbos binne ry sien ek die pragtige waterpoel. Die herfskleure en die wolke vorm perfekte weerkaatsings op die water. Ek stop en sien ‘n ouerige omie gebukkend agter sy esel staan en skilder. Ek neem ‘n paar foto’s en stap nader. Die oom raak bewus van my en kom stadig orent. Ek kyk oor sy skouer na die wordende skildery . Die oom kyk vir my en glimlag. Ek groet deur te sê, “Still pretty”. Daar is ‘n vraagteken op sy gesig…. Maar ek antwoord nie...

“Yes, that is what I will call this painting” sê die Oom. “Still pretty….yes thank you, I will call it “Still Pretty.” Tevrede stap ek terug na die motorfiets. Verbeel ek my of stap ek effens “nerderig” vandag…?.

 

[Jabus]

Day 8: West Yellowstone to Cody and then Beartooth Pass and Chief Joseph Scenic Hwy

Route: West Yellowstone to the East Entrance via 191, 89, Norris Canyon Rd, Grand Loop Rd joining 14/16/20 to Cody via Wapiti.

I am still in pain about the cost of the previous night’s accommodation but accept that this is just normal economics of supply and demand. Tourists can clearly afford to pay the exorbitant prices. I clearly cannot afford this more than once in my entire life….

Today I must pay the Park entrance fee. “Jane Goodall” hands me the receipt plus a yellow pamphlet warning about bears. My plan is to exit the Park at the Northeast Gate because this will take us to Route 212 and on the way to Beartooth Pass.

Early morning smoke from the many geysers… (Deep Purple’s “Dang-dang-dang…. Dang-dang-dedang….. Smoke on the water…” comes to mind )

Just after turning north onto 191 I see the traffic building up. I notice a couple on a touring bike ahead of us and we start to slowly make our way through the traffic. A truck passing us from the front stops and asks about the bikes. I ask about the traffic build-up and he explains that there is a big herd of buffalo ahead and we should make our way to the front where we will get great pics. We get to the front, and I am amazed at the absolute stupidity of the tourists. They get out of their vehicles and walk between the Bison and try touching them. Some of them even try to take selfies with a Bison!

We (Vaughn, I and the couple on the touring bike) make good progress. The three bikes constantly change positions as gaps appear between the herd of Bison. Vaughn and the other bike are in front of me when I hear the siren coming from behind. In my mirror I can see the white Chev of the Park Ranger making his way through the traffic. He is honking his horn and the blue and red lights are flashing. With a well-rehearsed 3-point turn he blocks the right lane and cuts me off from Vaughn and the other biker.

As the Ranger gets out I immediately know I am in trouble. “Getting out” is way too short a description of what would happen next….. It is a well rehearsed process (almost a religious ritual!) of getting out of the Chev.
He first slides his feet out of the truck. Then he slides his backside off the seat. Then he s-l-o-w-l-y reaches for his hat inside the truck. S-l-o-w-l-y puts his hat on his shaved head which shines in the early morning sun. (I’m not not sure why he puts the leather strap to the back of his head and not under his chin, but anyhow….). He s—l—o—w—l--y reaches for the the microphone, lifts his left leg up and places his foot inside the truck…. (“Light, cameras, action……”)

Then he announces over the megaphone: “Folks we’ve got a big herd of buffalo moving through the valley……” (He gives a short break for the important announcement to sink in). Then he continues: “Folks, this is going to take a l-o-n-g time….. Folks you may consider turning around and take another route”. Another prolonged period of silence……. Nobody moves.

He tries again: “Folks, this may take hours…..hours.” Hours, you must be joking, I think to myself but start to move the bike to the side of the road. Just in case someone wants to make a U-turn. I look back, nobody moves. Fôkkôl. Niks.

Of all the pics I took on this trip, this is the only one that revokes bad memories….

The Honorable Member gets back into the truck. Turns on the siren. Honks the horn several times before he starts his hot pursuit of the herd of Bison which by now has moved almost a mile up the road. We follow. As we get closer, he stops, three point turns and blocks the right lane. He repeats the well-rehearsed, get out of the vehicle, put on the hat (leather strap to the back of the head), reaches for the microphone act. He repeats his story…. Then he adds, “Folks, please keep your distance…..”

I decide to allow one vehicle between me and Honorable Member’s vehicle. He has a gun after all…. He may just call for backup…..
Our progress is so slow that people get out of their vehicles and start walking next to the road. “The long walk to freedom….”

Traffic passes freely from the front, clearly able to make their way through the herd of buffalo. It is starting get really hot under my helmet. I’m not sure whether it is due to the morning sun or due to the stupidity of what I see in front of me.

Honorable Member moves left to right, honking his horn at the Bison. Then he moves up and down the herd, poking at their backsides with the bumper of his truck…... Almost like the spectators next to the field watching a high school rugby match…. Ek voel lus om te skree “Ref, telefoon…”

Every time the Bison wonders off into an open stretch of field next to the road he blocks them, and pushes them back onto the tar. When he runs out of ideas he turns around. Three-point-turns-blocks-the right-line-gets-out… and then he repeats the whole enchilada…. His parting words remain: “Now folks, please keep your distance……
Give us some space to work in…..”

Oh my word. This guy reminds me of the 2011 Rugby World Cup quarter final. Remember Bryce Lawrence …..? Ek begin ook verstaan hoe Pieter van Zyl moes gevoel het toe hy die ref daar op Kings Park ge-tackle het……. Ek verlang na ‘n groep Afrika Buffels. Hulle sal hierdie lawaaimaker lankal soos ‘n sosatie ingeryg het… veral as hy sy Chev se bumper so teen hulle gatte stamp en sy toeter druk…

3.5hrs later. THREE AND A HALF HOURS later Bryce makes another announcement. “Folks, this is going to take another 2-3hours. We have quite a number of vehicles backed up behind here. I’m just going to make may way to the back of the que and inform everyone about the situation. “

As soon as Bryce is out of sight I make my way through the herd. It takes 5 minutes of maneuvering through them. The traffic, still freely flowing from the front, is courteous and allows me through. I try to smile at them ….. Dit herinner my aan die Oom wat vir die Tannie gesê het terwyl hy aan die Ford-kar gewerk het: “Vrou, ek is nie kwatie, ek is befôk!!”

As I exit the herd I can see Vaughn waiting in front…..

I fully understand the meaning of a “Bison blockade”. And Bryce wasn’t lying when he said “Folks this may take hours…..”
Just to be clear: I fully respect and support the fact that Bison (all wild animals for that matter) have right way. My rant above was triggered by tourists acting stupid among wild animals. I now understand why some get mauled by lions, elephants and the like when they visit the dark continent. And Bryce…. Oh hell don’t get me started again….

I just want to get the hell out of here and only occasionally stop to take a pic of the breathtakingly beautiful scenery.

In my haste I took a wrong turn and did not notice that we are heading for the East Entrance/Exit and not the Northeast Entrance/Exit.

Oh, and just in case, like me, you did not know, the Yellowstone National Park is the oldest park in the US and get its name from the Yellowstone River that runs through the park.

Leaving the park at the East Entrance/Exit the rain clouds start to build. We pull over at the Pakaska Tepee Resort. Apparently, this was Buffalo Bill’s old hunting lodge in the early 1900s. The place has real character! It is only when I look at Putin’s screen to plan the rest of the day that I realize that we are at the wrong exit and not en route to Beartooth Pass. Vaughn scans through his e-mails while I plan the shorter route to Cody.

The menu in the Pahaska Tepee is printed in newspaper format and has various newspaper clips from the early 1900s. One article reads: “PAHASHA TEPEE- Located at foot of Sylvan Pass. One and a half miles from Yellowstone Park entrance near Government road, reached by Automobile. Rustic, restful and beautiful. Warm fire places and entertainment. Rates three dollars per day” $3/day!

Others highlight the no nonsense attitude of Buffalo Bill. Even And another piece of trivia: Cody was named after Col. William “Bill” Frederick Cody which was Buffalo Bill’s real name.

I enjoy the nachos as we sit for a long time eating and chatting. As we get ready to leave, the first cars that was in the Bison blockade que start to arrive…. They must have waited another hour to pass the blockade…

It starts to rain, and Vaughn and I put on our rain gear. The group on the Harleys has no protective gear or helmets. It must be great fun riding in the pelting rain without a helmet……

 

[Jabus]

I recently saw this picture in another thread here on the forum. I think it’s really relevant to my own experience of the idiotic behavior of some tourists in Yellowstone.