It had been a bad month…..maybe one of the worst months I have ever spent. But, the nosebleeds seemed to be under control….the doctors gave me some pills for the dizziness and disorientation….and the pain in my right knee had not kicked into high gear yet. Of course, the doctors did not have a clue what caused the nosebleeds….and actually, the doctor whom I went to didn’t really seem to care.

“The bleeding has stopped. What more do you want? Who really cares what caused it?” Well, he didn’t actually say this. But, this was certainly his attitude.

The doctors….mainly my cardiologist….told me to stop taking Plavix, the blood thinner. This was the one most repeated point in the Emergency Room during my “visits” there in the middle of the night. It turned out that my good old cardiologist was probably the smartest one of all. Even though he didn’t know what had caused the marathon nosebleeds (and he, also, probably didn’t care), at least he recognized that the Plavix was more than likely the main culprit in

the uncontrolled bleeding.

The lightheadedness and dizziness…. Well, they ruled out a bunch of stuff….mostly concerning the heart. I had pills for vertigo. Even one pill would literally knock me out. And, I think that diagnosis was only something the doctors pulled out of thin air.

At any rate….. All of my doctors agreed that I should proceed with plans for our long anticipated trip through the West. If nothing else, it would get me out of their way for a while.

Sultan finished his last English class at Washburn University on Friday, August 4. We planned to leave early on Saturday morning, August 5.

I ate lunch with my friend, Sam, as usual while Sultan ate a final going-away lunch with some of his fellow students from the class he had taken at Washburn University. At 2:00 I picked up Sultan, and then we proceeded to pick up our rental car from Avis. I don’t know if Avis is the cheapest place to rent a car…..but for me, it is the most convenient. I can pre-pay the rental fee online, so when I go to pick up the car, all the other money-making side issues have been

resolved: No, I do not want insurance; no I do not want to pay for their GPS; no I do not want their fuel plan….etc. It is a fairly simply matter for me. I show them my driver’s license….they give me the car….and I drive away. Also, I joined some sort of Avis fan club. I am not sure of its name, but I get a discount on each rental. So….Avis is place for me.

Of course, Sultan was waiting outside in my car….well out of the line of sight. It costs extra for an additional driver……and much extra (if it is even legal) for a driver who just turned 20 years old. Of course, they would have gone ballistic….and they would never have rented the car to me if they had known that he would be the sole driver….for 100% of the trip.

After depositing my car at my brother’s house, we hurried home to begin the process of packing. Having Sultan around to help was a

welcome treat for me. Normally, this ordeal is left for me to contend with. I have compiled a list of what we were going to take…..a complete list, accurate, but definitive. There is nothing on the list that we were not going to use. And, everything we need is on the list. I have perfected this list over the years. It is a carefully thought out list…..not just an accident.

While I gathered the stuff together, Sultan began packing the rental car….systematically and making the best use of the available space. Every rental car is different….so by logic and experimentation, we fit all the equipment to the car….always trying to consider what must come out first when we reach the campground. Actually, by the third or fourth night, it really doesn’t make much difference! At that point, the goal each morning is to merely stuff the things in the car….and take off.

Early to bed….early to rise….. Our goal was to be on the road by 8:00 Saturday morning. And, Bon Jovie…..we almost made it…..around 8:05, I think. But, for us….that is “on time”. Forget the GPS….at least for today…..I had already decided on the route we were going to take….regardless of what the GPS said. Our first destination was Chadron, Nebraska….a little over 600 miles from the Ranch. We knew that it would take close to 10 hours to drive this distance. But, the good thing about traveling to the West: We gained an hour. So, on paper, that cut out time down to 9 hours. Entirely manageable.

One bad thing about driving from Ozawkie to Chadron,

Nebraska….in the far northern reaches of the state…..is that there is nothing to see. One of the good things about driving from Ozawkie to Chadron is that there is nothing to see! These two things probably about cancel each other out….they sort of equalize things. As we angled northwest up through the state of Nebraska, there was not a lot to capture our attention or our interest. As I looked back through the more than 2300 pictures that I took during the trip, there is not a single picture of our trip between home and Chadron….except for the Nebraska state sign. That, it seems, was the most interesting site we saw.

It can be argued….and I will support this argument…..that rich, productive farmland is a beautiful sight. Yes, it is. But since I have lived in this environment almost all my life, it doesn’t generate a lot of excitement. Appreciation, maybe….but not excitement. I do not like to stop and take pictures, only to wonder what they are, where they are, and why I took them a couple months later. So, we pretty much contented ourselves by talking, laughing and answering questions from the invaluable Book of Questions.

The good thing was….and still is….we gained an hour between Ozawkie and Chadron. So, for all practical purposed….and definitely looking on the bright side of things….it took us only NINE hours to drive there….and not TEN. Yeah….I know. It is a weak and shallow argument. But, take the points when you can score them! Even after we arrived in Chadron, the memories are lost to the past….. Where did we eat? What did we do? What did we see? The only fact I am sure of is that we stayed in a Super 8 Motel.

Early the next morning….and that would be a Sunday….we set out for South Dakota….and Mt. Rushmore National Memorial. Even I deemed it prudent to use the GPS on this segment of our trip. I remembered the problems that Fayez and I had finding the place a couple years ago. But, come to think about it…. We were using the GPS then, too, and we still had some problems. Everything went smoothly. The scenery was much more pleasant and dramatic….much more like we were on vacation. The flat dry farmland that stretched for miles in every direction quickly morphed into hills covered with green conifer and evergreen forests. We snaked our way past hundreds of tourist traps, and we

reached the entrance to Mt. Rushmore around mid morning. And, just as I suspected….the parking lot was already virtually full.

I was already having problems walking….my knee was hurting….I was lightheaded and short of breath…. But, luckily, we found an elevator to take us from the parking lot up to the level of the monument. I have seen Mt. Rushmore and the faces of the four presidents….Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln and Teddy Roosevelt….many times. Still I am always impressed by the magnitude of the job. And I marvel and wonder how the artist and the workers maintained such perfect perspective on the gigantic project. I am constantly amazed how the lifelike likenesses emerged from years of blasting rock from the side of a mountain. And….I still wonder how Theodore Roosevelt got included with Washington, Jefferson and Lincoln…..

Sultan, of course, was seeing the granite sculptures for the first time. For a foreigner….for a person who is totally unfamiliar with United States history….I somehow doubt if the monument has the same impact on him as it does on those of us who were raised from childhood knowing the greatness, the contributions and the impact each of these presidents had on the history and the development of nation. I did my best to give a brief history lesson….and to explain why this Monument is historically significant….and how the actions of each of these men still affect our lives even today….and why so many people come from near and far to visit the Monument.

Sultan, I think, did understand why each of these presidents hold a special place in the history of the United States and in the hearts of American citizens….. Although it was a little more difficult to explain why Teddy Roosevelt was included among the other three.
Maybe even more important….and no doubt more enjoyable….were the ice cream comes which have become one of my staple traditions on each visit to Mt. Rushmore.

After taking several pictures….and crowding our way through the hoards of Japanese tourists…and eating our ice cream, we left to do more sightseeing in the area.

 

 

 

 

Ah yes…. The Japanese! Where do they come from? They are ubiquitous….like little ants or insects scurrying around. Almost always arrogant and rude…..pushing people out of their way….but constantly walking into camera shots with no regard or consideration for others….. Unfortunately, they seem to be oblivious to their crudeness and disrespect. I have a feeling that most of them feel “entitled”…. Like, “Look at us. We are rich Japanese…. We got to go to the USA…. We are big shots…..” I think, probably to the dismay of Sultan, I can also be rude….and very protective of the rights of own citizens. Rarely did I even pretend to try to be polite to them….sometimes even intentionally walking in front of the camera, maybe just to show them what their own behavior is like….and often not so subtly muttering my feeling toward them….hoping they could speak English well enough to understand what I was saying.

It is rather strange. We heard a myriad of foreign languages being spoken by a wide variety of foreign visitors. But, none of them, without exception, were as rude, as inconsiderate, as insolent as the Japanese. I don’t know…. This must be a cultural thing. I wonder if this is the way they act in their native country? It is probably cliché…but Japanese are always known for being super “polite”…..the bowing, the genuflecting…the constant smiles….. One on one, I have experienced their politeness from time to time…. When they are in a group….well, some sort of undesirable transformation takes place.

This brings me to two conclusions I have formed: 1. All national parks should have a “Japanese Day”. One day a week the parks will be closed to everybody else…..and only Japanese people will be allowed entrance. The other six days: The parks will be closed to Japanese people so all the other people can enjoy them…..Japanese free. 2. Summer is an excellent time for the rest of the world to visit Japan. Obviously the country is empty….and we will be free to enjoy their country….free from scurrying little pests.

 

 

 

 

We moved on from Mt. Rushmore for a drive through Custer State Park. The motorcycle traffic was pretty heavy. Inadvertently…and quite coincidentally….and I must admit, somewhat luckily….we arrived in South Dakota at the precise time that the famous motorcycle rally was taking place in Sturgis. And, it was very evident from the hundreds of motorcyclists we encountered at Mt. Rushmore, in Custer State Park, in the little towns we passed through…..indeed almost everywhere in South Dakota.

The good things about the motorcyclists: For the most part they were courteous drivers and model tourists…..quite unlike the group of people described above. The public perception of motorcyclists seems to be changing…..at least in the Midwest. Far from being violent revolutionary outlaws, most of them seem to be average law-abiding citizens….who happen to like riding motorcycles. To be sure, at least once a year, they dress up on their motorcycle  costumes….and head out to have some fun…..somewhere. If not in Sturgis….then there are plenty of charity rides and worthwhile fundraisers to occupy their weekends. Not even once, did we observed motorcyclists causing problems……and this summer, they were literally everywhere….dressed in their finest leather, often with their wife sitting behind them. We also noticed that, in most cases, they were spending a lot more money than we were: on motels, on food, on souvenirs… Yeah, I don’t think most of them were down-and-out vagrants! (Although they may have thought Sultan and I were!)

Anyway…. As were driving through Custer State Park, I was keeping an eye out for the herds of buffalo the park is famous for. The buffalo were obviously taking the day off….after all, it was a Sunday. But as we drove along, we spotted something that I had honestly forgotten about. Wandering out in the large expanse of meadowland was a small herd of donkeys….burros, would probably be more accurate. Ah! The little burros. The delightful memories from past visits started to come back….. I had encountered them on three or four previous trips to the park. Then, they were on the road….blocking traffic….wanting attention.

These burros are perfectly tame…not a wild bone in their

body….even with their young offspring with them. In those days, they would wander from car to car…..sticking their head into the car, hoping for a hand-out….something to eat. Not only would we pet them, but we got out of the car to pet them and hug them. Luckily, we….like almost everybody else….and something to feed them. In our case….bread. They were happy for anything we had to offer. Crowds of people began to congregate….all cheerfully feeding and petting the burros.

This time was no exception. They were not on the road….people had already spotted them and had walked out onto the grasslands to pet them….and of course, to feed them.   Sultan and I were not about to

pass up this opportunity. We quickly parked the car and made our way to burros. But, we learned quickly…..If you want to pet them…..You’ve got to feed them. They are not dumb! They go where the food is. Sultan quickly ran back to the car to get some slices of bread. Now….We were in the game. The burros loved us. And, we loved them. We spent our time feeding the burros….petting them…hugging them….and finally sadly telling them that the food supply had run out. They did what you and I would do….. They left us and went in search of people who had some food.

My first encounter with the burros was in 1978. Wow….. That is almost 40 years ago. It is rather exciting…..and maybe a little sentimental….to realize that these little burros are the

children….and probably the grandchildren…..of the burros I fed and petted then. These adorable animals are thoroughly domesticated….totally unafraid of humans. And, why wouldn’t they be? They have been treated with kindness and affection by generations of humans….and through the years, I am sure their DNA must have altered to a point where they fully identify as much with us humans as we do with them.

The only other “attraction” I wanted to show Sultan in the Black Hills was the monument being erected to honor the Indian chief, Crazy Horse. Somewhere along the line, they started charging a fee to to drive up to it. Another money making scheme for somebody. There is an unobstructed view of the monument from the highway, so there is really no reason to pay money to get a closer look. Actually, the monument is still very much under construction…..it has been for a long while…..and almost certainly will be for a while longer. It looks almost precisely the same as it did when I saw it three years ago. And, I suspect that it will not have changed materially by the time I see it again. Nevertheless, people were shelling out money for a closer look……probably all those Japanese! But, Sultan and I were fully content seeing it from the highway….probably a better and more comprehensive view anyway.

 

 

 

 

We had had enough fun at Mt. Rushmore and Custer State Park….and throw in Crazy Horse Monument for good measure….but it was time to move on to more exciting things.

I wish I could claim credit for it. I wish I could say it was due to my careful research and planning. But, that would not be accurate. In other words, I would not be telling the truth. It was a fortunate….and I might add, exciting…. And coincidental stroke of luck that our trip to South Dakota occurred during the first week of August. The Sturgis Motorcycle Rally is held during the first full week of August. So there we were, smack dab in the middle of it. Sunday, August 6.

Even before we reached the Black Hills, I began to notice an

inordinate number of motorcycles on the roads and highways. They were all headed somewhere….. And, I suspected it might be the big annual motorcycle rally held in Sturgis each year. Probably about half of the visitors at Mt. Rushmore were motorcyclists. (The other half were obviously Japanese!) In the evening when we got to our campground, I plugged in my laptop to check. Yeah! The next day we were going to the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. Other times when I have gone to Mt. Rushmore, I had arrived a week early…..or a week late. This year was right on the money. The rally was in full swing.

I am not sure if the Sturgis rally is the biggest motorcycle in the world or not. But, I suspect it is. If not THE biggest…..then certainly it trails close behind whatever is in first place. The rally was first held in 1938….an important date in history. That is the year I was born! It has gained in popularity, and the attendance has grown steadily as the years went by. In 2015….a couple years ago….the attendance was approaching 500,000 people. That is a half million people! I read somewhere that the attendance this year was 376,000. Stop and think. That is a lot of motorcycles. Of course, this is spread over a 10+ day period. But, it is still an awesome sight….especially for somebody like me who rarely sees more than a few dozen motorcycles a week.

Sultan and I no doubt looked a little out of place. We were both dressed in shorts…or at least, I was. I guess we just neglected to bring our “leather” with us. And, of course, we were not riding a motorcycle…..and sadly, we didn’t have any “biker babes” with us. It really didn’t make any difference, though. Nobody cared. And, there were others there who had come only to look at the spectacle….feel a part of it…..and say they had been there.

For people like Sultan and me, there really is not a lot to do. Except to look at the hundreds….no, probably thousands….of motorcycles. Motorcycles parked in double rows up and down the blocks….motorcycles going up and down the street…..entire parking lots filled with motorcycles. There were vendors everywhere…..It actually probably put the State Fair to shame…..selling everything. Everything a motorcycle rider would want. Mostly clothing….hundreds of T-shirts….souvenirs of every imaginable kind and variety…..and beer…..LOTS of beer….and food….again making the State Fair look like amateurs and not very creative.

Unbelievably, there were more empty parking spaces for automobiles than there were for motorcycles. Only “outsiders” like Sultan and I drive cars. All the “authentic” people were riding their motorcycles. Sultan parked our rental car and we walked a few yards to the main street, where everything seemed to be happening. And, as I said….there really was not a lot of do….except look. We walked around briefly, looking at the souvenirs and the clothing for sale in the stalls that had been set up the entire length of the street. We had eaten breakfast only a couple hours before, so we were not hungry. Anyway, the price of food….as you can probably imagine….was priced appropriately for a throng of bikers who had come to have a good time….and not worry about sticking to a budget. Believe me…..Sultan and I were sticking to a budget.

The only concession I made was to buy some T-shirts. Actually, they were reasonably priced….for an event such as this, that is. But, I paid a price for the purchase. Later in the day, as we were traveling to Miles City, Montana, we stopped for gas along the way. I routinely inserted by debit card into the slot on the gasoline pump….just like I normally do. This time, there was a message said said something like, “Not valid” or “Insert card again”…..or maybe it was, “What are you trying to do? Cheat us?” or “Come on loser….you don’t have any money in your account.” Whatever it was, my debit card was not going to work. No point trying again.

Not only was I puzzled….but I was also worried. I knew that I had far more than sufficient money in my account to cover such a small sum as the gasoline…… Unless my account had been hacked! Heaven forbid! At the moment, I had no other choice except to use a credit card….which worked fine. (For some reason that I do not recall, Sultan’s debit card was not working, either. He cleared his problem up quickly online, however.)

We filled the car with gas….and then I immediately called my bank. “What is going on?” I asked. “Why doesn’t my debit card work?”

“Oh…. We blocked it. There was a suspicious purchase that just came through,” I was told.

“Wow. Really? Where was it from?” I was getting a little worried.

“It was from a mercantile company in Sturgis, South Dakota.”

“Oh…. I just left Sturgis. And, I bought some t-shirts.”

“So…. It is OK, then?”

“Yes…. It is OK.”

Two things that I would like to mention….. well, three, actually. First of all, I am happy that my bank is keeping a close watch for potential fraud. Second…. What is so unusual about me being in Sturgis….and buying some t-shirts!? I am not that unexciting….am I? Third….. I wish they were that quick in paying my monthly bills when I submit them. I would save a lot of money in late fees!

After spending the night in Miles City, Montana, our next major

destination was Yellowstone National Park. There are several ways to drive from Miles City to Cooke City, where we would spent two nights. There was the “easy” one….following I-90 most of the way. Or there was the scenic route…..a highway that would take us through the Bear Tooth Mountains. I could remember the Bear

Tooth Mountains from a trip I took in the distant past…..back when I drove a pickup which had less power than the average bicycle. Back in those nostalgic days, it was a major adventure coaxing the little truck up the steep mountain highways….around the hairpin curves…..above the timberline which looked down on truly magnificent vistas…..gazing upward at the jagged, snow-covered mountain peaks.

That was the route we elected to travel. The scenery was still

spectacular, and the vistas were still breathtaking….the forest covered mountains were still beautiful and awe inspiring. But….alas. Nostalgia! Somehow, something was lost for me. Yeah… I know. I should have been happy that we were driving a car that didn’t hesitate climbing the mountain highways…. That performed like a well-trained mountain marathon runner…..never complaining or never gasping for breath.

Of course, I enjoyed the ride. Who wouldn’t? But, probably Sultan found it to be just a little more exciting….a little more entertaining…..a little more daring….than I did. But….Kids? What to they know? They never lived back in “the good old days” when life wasn’t easy…..when things were rough!

 

 

 

 

 

We arrived in Cooke City, Montana, a town about 20 miles outside the Northeast Gate of Yellowstone National Park, at around 5:00 in the afternoon, I suppose. We found our hotel easily. It is right on the main street of the town….and it looked exactly like its pictures. In Cooke City it would be hard to miss almost anything. Cooke City’s population as of July 1, 2017, was officially 77 people. Obviously tourism is its major source of income. It is a picturesque little village…. Mostly hotels, cafes, bars, souvenir shops and service stations. It is built on one main street….and that is where we found the Soda Butte Hotel. The Soda Butte is a rather sprawling hotel….again quaint and picturesque. From all appearances, it was an old building….a building that was constantly added onto as the years went by and the tourism industry grew.

 

 

 

 

This was the first time I had stayed in Cooke City. And, even this time, it was by necessity….not choice. Always before I have stayed in West Yellowstone. In fact, until the last couple times I visited Yellowstone, I have not even bothered to make an advance reservation. But, this year, the hotels in West Yellowstone were either full….or they were absolutely out of our price range. We paid $319 for two nights in Soda Butte….more than we paid for two nights in New York City a couple years before.

For this price, believe me…..we did not have a luxurious room. Far from it. To begin with….and this is always a sore point with me…..there was no elevator. Strike One! The room was “adequate”. After all, we were tourists….and we had come for sightseeing and not to sit around our hotel room. There were no comfortable

chairs…. There was no table or desk for my laptop….. There was no Internet connection. (Well, there was….but it was serving more than 100 rooms…. Go Figure!) There was no little refrigerator or microwave oven. However, luckily, it did have two beds! And it had a shower. So, like I said…. It was “adequate”……but on a scale of 1 – 5

Stars, I give it a 1….and even that is probably being generous.

After checking in at the hotel and depositing our bags, we set off for Yellowstone National Park, which, as I said, is about 20 miles away. There were only two stops on the agenda for the evening…..actually the only two sights we would have time for. First, we stopped at Mammoth Hot Springs, the northernmost attraction in the Park. Compared to what it was like, let’s say, 30 years ago….today it is only a vague ghost of itself. Back in its “glory days”, there were a cascading series of mineral-formed plateaus, with steaming water spilling over each plateau to the plateau below it. Today….and for the last two or three times I have been there….the water has dried up; there is no cascading water spilling down…..spilling down anywhere. Basically the water has dried up….and thus there are no pools of steaming water. In a couple places, there are still a few of the hot pools of mineral water. They are isolated, and the almost eerie beauty of long ago is gone. And probably gone forever.

 

 

 

 

The other attraction that I was eager to show Sultan had a more personal magnetism…a more special meaning……for me, at least. The quest to find it was doomed from the very beginning. The road which lead from Mammoth Hot Springs down to the halfway junction road is being reconstructed. By reconstruction…..I mean it is torn up….ripped apart…. The trip was filled with a snail-pace speed limit….and a series of lengthy, time-consuming delays…..and even more time-consuming detours. We were working within a limited time frame, too. Darkness would soon fall over the park….and we would have to return to our hotel.

As we slowly….very slowly….made our way from Mammoth Hot Spring to the mid-way road that would lead us back to hotel…..now probably 40 or 45 miles away….I kept a close and constant lookout

for the attraction I was so eager to show to Sultan. But, I did not see it. Could I have missed it? Could the road have been routed away from it since I last saw it? Had they removed the signs? Whatever…..? Even if I had found it, no doubt we would not have been able to stop because of the road construction. I was disappointed, to say the least. But, we had reached the mid-point road. There was no more time to search. We headed back to our hotel in Cooke City.

Early the next morning, we started off for a full day of exploring Yellowstone National Park. The first attraction was Tower Falls. I was fully aware that I would not be able to see this. There is a long flight of steep stairs and an equally steep incline path leading to the falls. Going down would not have been so bad. But coming back up? Let’s just say that I would probably still be there….unless a helicopter came to pick me up and carry me back to the car! However, I saw no reason why Sultan should not go take a look. I sat in the car and waited for him to return. I waited a little longer than I had expected….or wanted….to wait. But, eventually, he returned….before I got out to go search for him.

We made the obligatory stop at the old “Photo Shop”….the store

where I worked for three months in the summer of 1989. The store….now renamed “The Adventure Store”….or something like that….. is part of the shopping complex in Canyon Village. Every time I walk into the store, somehow I expect to see somebody I know. A rather irrational thought, considering it has been almost thirty years since I worked there. But, there is very little that is familiar these days…..different name and different interior.

Having shown Sultan where I once worked, we got back into the car and started our day of sightseeing and exploring. We drove back west to the west loop road where we had driven the previous evening….turned south and headed down toward the geyser basins and eventually to Old Faithful.

As we were driving along, I kept an eye out for wildlife….mostly elk and moose. We did see any. A couple miles down the west loop, I looked to my right and…..Wow! This looks familiar.

“Pull over,” I told Sultan. “Eureka! I think we have found it!”

Yes. Of course. This is it. This is what I have been looking for. We just didn’t drive far enough last night. This is the main attraction in Yellowstone, so far as I am concerned. We had found “Beryl Spring”.

Sultan seemed surprised and excited….but probably more to please me than anything else. Yeah….I think he appreciated it. You don’t find stuff called “Beryl” very often.

“Why did the call is “

 

 

 

I was tempted to tell him that is was named after me. And, who knows? Maybe he would have believed me. (I doubt it, though.) So, I told him the truth….of what I assume is the truth. The name comes from its color. Beryl is the name of a blue-green, semi-precious stone…..approximately the same color as Beryl Spring.

After an appropriate amount of joking….and picture taking….we moved on to see the “lesser” attractions in the park.

The remainder of the day was basically a waste of time. We saw a couple geyser basins; we paid a brief visit to the picture-post-card Lower Falls; we made a brief stop in the Hayden Valley. But, for all practical purposes, we may as well have packed the car and moved on.

We were in Yellowstone National Park during the beginning of the first week of August. And, it was packed with humanity. I have never seen it so crowded in all the times that I have visited the park…..probably 10 or 12 times…..nor during the three months that I worked there. The crowds were almost literally out of control. Parking was almost non-existent. Traffic was heavy. Competition for parking places was fierce. Simply put: There were none. We actually witnessed TWO “almost” physical confrontations over parking spots. And…. They could have been real. We didn’t stick around to watch. Fortunately…..I guess….neither of the near-fights involved Sultan and me. No amount of driving around in circles helped. There was always a car in front of us to take any available spot…..sort of like Salt Lake City.

At Old Faithful, we did manage to find a parking spot….one located probably more than a city block away. Of course…in keeping with our luck…Old Faithful had just erupted. That meant at least a 65 minute wait before the next scheduled display. No Problem! We ate some lunch

at the Old Faithful Inn….at vastly inflated prices, of course. After finishing an expensive, but leisurely lunch, we were ready to walk around the corner….and about 100 meters to watch Old Faithful erupt. Again, so very in tune with our day….the wind started blowing, the temperature fell about 10 or 15 degrees and it began to rain….and hail!

 

 

 

 

Neither of us….and apparently nobody else….wanted to stand in a near freezing rain to watch some steam come out of the ground. Sultan, bless his heart, went to get the car while I waited inside the door at Old Faithful Inn. There was really nothing to do but move on. We headed southward along the West Loop road. Wow…. In many places, the ground was white! Covered with hail. The weather was not good! We made a brief stop to take some picture at the Continental Divide….something new and different for Sultan….and something I think he found to be interesting….whether he actually believed it or not(!)

As I indicated, we made a brief stop at the Hayden Valley, but out next major stop was at Lower Falls….an icon of Yellowstone National

Park….a picture often found on postcards….and the main attraction of the area where I had once worked. We did actually find a parking spot, believe it or not.

Our problem here was fighting our way through…..Yes. You guess it! Japanese! The little insects had found their way to the Falls….and had climbed the steep steps to the viewing platform. They were everywhere…shooing people out of their way….walking in front of other people’s camera shots…. Being their usual, rude, inconsiderate, obnoxious selves. My knee was hurting badly. I was having serious

problems breathing. I don’t know if I would be exaggerating if I would say I was in agony….but it would not be much of an exaggeration. I was not in a good mood. Again, I am rather ashamed to admit….I intentionally walked in front of Japanese cameras, happily ignoring their frantic hand motions…brushing away their hands as they attempted to shoo me away. By that time I did not even make an attempt to be civil….toward the Japanese, at least.

We did get a good look at the falls and the Yellowstone Canyon. It was probably the major triumph of the day. But, I was tired…..My knee was hurting….Sultan was getting tired. The frustration of driving….of

looking for parking spaces….of contending with the traffic had worn him down. We were ready to simply leave….get out the place….go back to our “barely adequate” hotel.

There was one sight that Sultan and I never got tired of, however. On at least the past two times I previously visited Yellowstone National Park, there was a curious absence of buffalo….anywhere. One year, I even

became suspicious….or concerned…..or something. I had told the person with me that he was about to see hundreds of buffalo. He would see them in the meadow lands; he would see them in the forests; and he would very possibly even see them on the road. As we drove around the park….almost the entire loop….we failed to see even one buffalo. Not one lousy buffalo. Now, that was unusual; that was simply not right.

On one of our sightseeing stops late in the day, I asked a park ranger where all the buffalo were. I don’t know what I expected him to say…. Maybe: This is their day off. Or… We rounded all of them up and put them in a pen. Or… We sold them all to McDonald’s so they can make McBuffalo Burgers…. But No…. He said they were probably all up in the mountains where it was cooler. (Well….sort of a day off, I suppose.) So, we left Yellowstone without seeing a buffalo. So much for me as the Yellowstone “expert”.

The first afternoon we were in Yellowstone….after we had checked into our barely adequate hotel, we got back into the car and headed for the park to explore. After driving a few miles into the park, we saw cars parked up ahead…. It could have been anything…. People who have never been to Yellowstone will go bananas over anything that has fur and is moving: an elk, a moose, a bear, an eagle….probably a skunk, if they were from the city.

As we got closer, we saw why there were dozens of vehicles backed up on the road. Buffalo! Hundreds of buffalo. Buffalo grazing in the far fields. Buffalo grazing near the road. Buffalo in the road! Yes, the cars were not able to move, even if they wanted to. Some of the huge,

shaggy, beady eyed, ugly animals were leisurely crossing the road. And, when buffalo cross the road….they are in no hurry. Maybe there is a riddle that asks: “Why did the buffalo cross the road?” Maybe they were standing there trying to figure out the answer. Buffalo cannot be hurried. They do things at their own pace….in their own good time.

It does no good to honk your horn. They will just stare at you with those inscrutable beady eyes. Probably deciding whether to charge the car….or just feel sorry for the poor, impatient idiot driving the car. If they would choose to charge at the car….there would be no contest. The buffalo has already won before the contest begins. The only thing to do is ……Wait! Wait….and take pictures. And, this is what most of the people were doing. I was actually waiting for some moron to walk up to a buffalo and put its arm around its neck…..and have their picture taken. And, I was also waiting…..camera in hand…..to take a picture of the person as he went flying through the air….hopefully, toward a hospital. But, generally speaking, people were patient….content to take picture….after picture…..after picture. Just like Sultan and I.

This scene was repeated five times! Every time we drove into the park….and every time we drove back to our hotel….. And, even though maybe the fourth and fifth times it became a little bit annoying, the sight of literally hundreds of buffalo was an awesome scene to behold.

Now….. I know where the buffalo are located. Maybe next summer we will set up a little booth down by Old Faithful….or maybe by the Lower Falls…..put up a sign that says, “If you want to know where all the buffalo are located….. Give us Five Dollars and we will share the secret.”

 

 

 

 

Early on a Thursday morning, we left Yellowstone to explore other things. In order to leave Yellowstone, we had to enter Yellowstone again….and then leave it again…. Yeah….I know it is confusing. But, check the map and you will understand.

As we left Yellowstone National Park that morning, I made a decision. I am crossing the park off my list of places to visit….Unless: I can to there before May 15….or after September 15. That seems to be the peak tourist season….. After the public schools and the colleges have dismissed for the summer….. Forget it. For me, it is simply not worth the effort to fight the crowds….the inflated hotel and food prices…..the foreign (Japanese) tourists. Yes, it is a great place to visit. However, if you cannot find a parking space….if you are going to spend the entire day driving around in circles…. Why bother?

I have been to Yellowstone National Park probably 10 or 12 times….worked there for three months. I have seen it….seen everything. I have hiked it….seven days a week for three months…. There really is nothing new there for me to see. I know it is a good place to take foreign visitors. But…. There are other good places, too. Glacier National Park, Mt. McKinley, Olympic National Park, Mt. Rainier National Park….. Maybe these places are also crowded. But, I don’t know…..and maybe it is time to find out.

We proceeded on toward the West. The drive along I-90 was rather boring…..like most Interstates, I suppose. But, we amused ourselves, as usual by using our good old Book of Questions….by laughing….and otherwise trying to make the time pass quickly. It did. After we

crossed the border into Idaho, the scenery started to change…..and we were back on a two-lane highway again…..and heading in to the forest covered mountains. Most of the other times I have driven this route were earlier in the summer…..late spring, to be exact. For instance, Fayez and I made this same trip a couple years ago…..but we were traveling in late May….not early August.

Fayez and I were treated to a much more dramatic scene….and, a much more beautiful scene. The snow in the Bitterroot Mountains was starting to melt….and the rivers were full. We followed the Lochsa River as we drove through central Idaho today our campground in Lewiston. The river was full of crystal clear water as it rolled down from the mountains. As the elevation dropped, the river increased it momentum as pulled the water downward. Along the way, water from other streams flowed into the river. The effect was dramatic. The river churned with power as torrents of water, capped the white-capped energy, giving off its spray and mist, cascaded uncontrollably down the mountain beside the highway. We stopped often to listen to the roar of its energy and be captivated by its melodramatic odyssey to its resting place at the

base of the mountains.

The day that Sultan and I drove this same route, the mountain snows and long since melted, the Lochsa River was tame and almost serene as it flowed peacefully down the mountains to the lowlands of western Idaho. Although the river had lost its drama, the scenery was still beautiful….the forests thick and untouched….the water pure and clean….the setting quiet and pristine.

I told Sultan that high up in those mountains were an unknown number of highly fortified compounds, build and inhabited by paranoid survivalists. They contained arsenals of weapons hoarded by crazed, wacko misfits who have somehow become disaffected and suspicious….no, schizophrenic….about today’s society. They are waiting…. Nervously? Patiently? Eagerly?…..for our government to attack them….or for the world to come to an end….or something. Who knows how long they are willing to wait……

 

 

 

 

That night we stayed at a camp ground in Hell’s Canyon State Park. The two other times I have stayed there were early in the tourist season. On those occasions, whether we were supposed to or not…. We drove our car up to our cabin and parked it. Well…. OK. We were not supposed to do it, but nobody stopped us. Under “normal” circumstances….and that is when we arrived this year…..there are designated parking spaces….probably a half block from our cabin….where we are supposed to park. That means carrying all our stuff a half block to the cabin when we arrive…..and carrying it a half block back to the car when we leave. Believe me…. That is not fun. Not with as much stuff as we had to unload and load. And, to make matters worse, we had to make multiple trips….each time walking past other campers…..and I mean, within just a few feet of other campers….on each trip…..each time with them staring at us, and probably wondering how we could possibly have so much stuff for just one night! Well…. This camping ground has been eliminated from my list of campgrounds. Not only did we have to carry our camping gear a half block…..but the showers were more than twice that far away. Time for new scenery.

The only notable sight between Lewiston and the Pacific Coast were

the vast fields of wheat in east central Washington. For most people, wheat fields would probably be another excuse to step a little harder on the accelerator. But for me….a nearly lifelong resident of Kansas….and having been born and raised in Central Kansas, the major wheat producing area of the USA…..these seemingly never ending fields of wheat were almost awe inspiring. They stretched on and on….beyond the horizon, even further than my eye could see.

Of course, Kansas produces far more wheat than Washington. Washington, however, certainly rivals Kansas in the size of their wheat fields. It is possible, I must admit, that Kansas possibly has even bigger fields, especially in central and western parts of the state. But, Kansas is flat. The view of the fields is linear….and that limits the ability to judge their size. In Washington, on the other hand, the fields are stretched across rolling hills….often rising in elevation in the distance. The view is panoramic. A person feels surrounded by the sight of golden wheat on all sides….as the view

disappears into the distance.

Wheat is irrigated in Kansas, but probably not to the extent that it is in Washington. If not for the water, it is doubtful if there would be any wheat growing there. It is not at all unusual to see the seemingly infinite fields of wheat on one side of the highway…..and on the other side: wasteland….semi-arid land covered with mesquite and other scrubby plants. Water makes the difference.

Our next destination was the Oregon Coast….our ultimate target for the trip….where we would bask in the sun on the beaches of the Pacific Ocean…renew our spirits and bodies for the trip that would ultimately take us back to the Ranch.