Say Good-bye to Yellowstone.   As I am sure my fellow traveler, Fayez Alruwaili, would say, “If you have seen one geyser, you have seen them all.” Or….maybe “This bison looks exactly like that bison.”

At any rate, we actually both enjoyed the natural wonders of Yellowstone National Park….and now it time to move on….to the West….toward Paradise. Before embarking on another long journey of lonely highways through green forests and tall mountains, we considered it prudent to perhaps change the oil in the car….or at least buy some oil which could be added in case the oil was running low…..which it most definitely was.

It was a Saturday morning….Saturday morning in the busy tourist town of West Yellowstone, Montana.   A town where thousands of tourists arrive and leave every day of the summer.   A town where all of the tourists arrive….and leave…..in an automobile.   Of course, most of these automobiles are in good running order…..problem free.   But, we are also going to assume…..and probably correctly…..that a goodly number of them have problems….or develop problems….while their owners are visiting the Park.   And…let’s face it…..automobiles do not know what day of the week it is.  They have not been programmed to only break down or need attention only on five days a week.   Bless their little engines…..they can….and do…..need attention on any day of the week….and at any time of the day.

When a person is at home,  he simply waits until Monday and takes the car to a mechanic…..or he takes it to Wal-Mart, which will repair a car almost any time.   Or you can call a buddy.   You know….the one who is a mechanic or knows something about cars.  Well….let me tell you: If you are in West Yellowstone, Montana, you are out of luck. You can be assured that there is not a single mechanic to be found on a weekend.   We found this to be almost beyond belief. In a busy tourist town?   With cars in all states of repair and dis-repair.   What a missed opportunity.   What a gold mine for some enterprising mechanic.   Weekends are like any other day to the tourist.   All of the restaurants are open.   All of the gift shops are open.   All of the bars are open.   All of the service stations are open.   All the grocery stores are open.   But…..try to find a mechanic and you are out luck. So…..to be on the safe side….be sure to caution your car not to break down or need any sort of attention…..because you are not going to get it.

Fortunately for us, we were not faced with a life-changing crisis. But….yet, it was a crisis of a sorts.  The oil in Fayez’s car was getting low…..and we needed to add a quart.  Of course…..this is a minor detail that either of us could take care of by our self.

No need to change the oil…..we would simply buy a quart of oil and add it to the engine.  But, there was one major problem: What grade of oil should be added?   Fayez did not know.   And, of course, neither did I…..after all, it wasn’t my car.   So….we made an executive decision: We would get the oil changed. It would soon need to be changed anyways.

We searched West Yellowstone for somebody to change the oil.   Of course….we didn’t find one.   They probably all belong to some sort of oil-changers union.   We finally found a guy in one of the service stations who told us that he knew of a garage that was open on Saturday morning……but it was about thirty miles away.  Faced with seemingly no other choice, we headed toward the little town…..knowing that we would be forced to relinquish a major part of our sightseeing day.   Oh well….you do what you have to do.

A couple miles into our unfortunate journey….one of us…..and to avoid an argument,  let’s say it was Fayez….suddenly saw the little sticker which the mechanic always places in the window after changing the oil! Wow…. a sense of relief….and embarrassment….overtook us.   We turned the car around and drove joyfully back to West Yellowstone where we bought a couple quarts of oil and poured them lovingly into the crankcase.   Oh well….it was early in the morning…..and we had not had our cup of coffee yet.

It was time to leave Yellowstone and continue our search for Paradise. Yellowstone is nice…..but it is not Paradise.

Early on Sunday morning, we pointed our GPS toward the West….west to Idaho and the scenic Bitterroot Mountains.   Before we turned west, we first had to drive north to I-90, which crosses southern Montana into Idaho.  The drive from West Yellowstone to I-90 is a rather unremarkable experience….mostly more semi-arid land and rolling hills with snow-covered mountains in the background.   This drive gave Fayez and me the chance to reflect on our impressions of Yellowstone.

To be honest, I really have no strong feelings in favor of one part over the other: geysers vs water falls; water falls vs. Lava Hot Springs…..   If I were forced to choose my favorite sites in the Park, however, I would settle on the Hayden Valley….the vast stretch of green land a few miles south of Canyon Village. This is a peaceful valley with rivers and streams meandering through it. It is uncluttered by forests or geysers or mineral formations. It is an ideal place to sit and reflect….on anything you feel like reflecting about. In the first weeks that I worked in Yellowstone back in 1989, I used to drive my pickup down to the Valley, sit and listen to my favorite cassette tapes and watch for wild animals which find this an ideal place to graze.

The other feature about Yellowstone that greatly appeals to me is the animals….whether it be the bison or elk or moose….or bears.   Once, when I was out driving early one morning, I came up a baby elk and its mother….a baby that was probably born only minutes before I arrived….one who could barely stand on its own feet. An awesome sight.

Fayez?

Well…..I think he preferred the mountainous area of the north loop….an area where one drives for perhaps thirty or forty miles with no “attractions” such as geysers, hot bubbling springs or water falls.   It is a scenic drive through sweeping mountain vistas, of forests and wide open valleys which stand out in contrast against the mountainous background. It is an area less traveled, less popular, than the rest of the Park…..by no means isolated, but certainly not an area which you will find crawling with scurrying, inconsiderate Japanese tourists.   Perhaps this is sufficient reason in itself to like it.

Fayez, like me, found the Hayden Valley to be a peaceful and appealing diversion from the sometimes frenetic activity of the major tourist attractions. I think it is safe and accurate to say that Fayez does not find the wildlife in Yellowstone as fascinating as I do.   Some people are animal lovers….some people are not. Fayez is not.   If I had been driving, I would have stopped to take pictures of almost every wild animal we saw.   Well…maybe not every buffalo…..but certainly every elk, every moose, every bear….although we didn’t see any bears. In all probability, if I hadn’t yelled, “Stop” when I saw a wild animal, I would have left Yellowstone with no wild animal pictures at all!  It is too bad that Yellowstone doesn’t have a few camels!   Wow…. I would have left with a hundred pictures of them.

At any rate….there we were making our way up to I-90, so we could cross over into the state of Idaho. Like so many of our drives, this one started out rather remarkably.   There are the usual rolling low mountains, the sage brush…..the vast blue skies: the Wild Montana Skies, as John Denver would say.   Of course, Montana is know as “Big Sky Country”….because there is nothing to obstruct the clean blue dome overhead….and because the sky is blue.

There is an important difference that contrasts the journey through southwest Montana to the route we drove through central Wyoming. Yes….there is sage brush.   But, here are vast stretches of green grass, probably thanks to extensive irrigation.   Although this is not an area which produces an abundance of grain or row crops, such as wheat, corn or soybeans….these hundreds of acres provide valuable grazing land to hundreds….probably thousands…..of cattle in the summer time…..not to mention the fact that they are a significant source of hay.   The grass is cut and baled into thousands of bales of hay…..and they are a critical necessity to supply the cattle with food during the long winter months.   Maybe this not the land of true cowboys….but it is without a doubt a more favorable area to raise cattle.

As we leave I-90 and turn on to Idaho Route 12, the scenery starts to change.   We pick up the Lochsa River, and we will follow it halfway across the state….the highway and river side-by-side.   For miles, the river flows lazily along, taking its time….in no hurry.   As we follow Route 12 deeper into Idaho, the forests become more dense….almost impenetrable…..the massive pine trees almost hugging the highway on our right….and the never-ending river on our left. It is a visual masterpiece. It has started to rain by now. Not a heavy rain…..but a steady, relentless rain that makes the afternoon gray and foggy.   If this is a lonely highway when the sun shines….it takes on an added element of desolation and gloom when it rains.  The clouds are concealing the tops of the mountains….wispy and thin.   Sometimes there even appears to be smoke arising from the distant forests.   But, we know there is not.   Only clouds…only rain.

The rain and the clouds and the gloom don’t dampen our spirits.   We are in the midst of nature as it should be….untouched, wild, natural, uninhabited….except by the wildlife that Mother Nature intended it for.

Beware….don’t start this journey without filling up with gas.  The towns are few and far between…..and even then, they are not really “towns”….but more like a wide space in the road, as they say.   And, don’t depend on your cell phone to call AAA.   Because of the mountains and the isolation from society, your cell phone is not going to work.   Maybe, if you are getting your signal from a satellite things will work out.   But, if you are depending on a tower…..forget about it.

We have found some scenery that Fayez really likes!  The mountains, the river, the forests, the rain…..   Nothing like Saudi Arabia!   Maybe he could drive all day in these surroundings and never get bored with it. It is a peaceful, laid-back drive.   We stop at irregular intervals….get out….take some quick pictures….and then continue on our way….pressing on toward Paradise.

As the elevation starts a gradual, barely imperceptible decline, the speed of the river picks up.   What was once a placid ribbon of water is rapidly becoming more volatile.   The white caps become more disturbed.   The noise level increases to a crashing crescendo within a few miles as the river cascades and churns it way down the mountain. This is perfect for those foolhardy people who would pay hundreds of dollars to risk their lives at white water rafting.   I say that because I do not know how to swim.   I am not at all sure that even a heavy duty life jacket could protect my life in this raging river.   On the other hand, Fayez knows how to swim.   This would probably provide a real adrenalin rush for him.

There are no white water rafters on the river today.   It is raining. It is too cold.   We confine our activity to taking pictures.   And, even those pictures are hurried ones….because it is raining.   And, the rain is cold. But inside the car, our spirits are high, the conversation never falters. This isn’t Paradise….but it has to be somewhere in the top five.

It is not uncommon to hear of militant groups….separatist groups….who set up camps in these rugged and isolated forests in the mountains of central and northern Idaho.   If this is actually true….it is easy to see that they have picked the perfect place to carry on their clandestine activities with secrecy and privacy.   It doesn’t take much imagination to understand why one could live virtually without being detected for months….even years….in this secluded and remote region.

Actually we have no idea where we are….well, we do….   But in terms of miles or time or distance…..we could be a million miles from nowhere. As we descend from the mountains….leave the river to find its own way home…..and say good-bye to the green forests, we approach what turns out to a real town…..the city of Kamiah.   We stop, fill up with gas, get a bottle of energy drink, and inquire how far it is to Lewiston…..our destination for the night.   We are closer than we think.   That is encouraging.   Plenty of time to find our campground….plenty of time to rest before it is time to fix supper…..for Fayez to fix supper!

Ahh…..back to the delicious meals cooked over an open fire!   They are delicious.   And it has been a while since I have eaten one.   This is one of the joys of camping out….even if it is in a camping cabin.   After we arrived at Hells Canyon Campground, just outside of Lewiston, Idaho, we got our stuff unpacked…. we got the Internet working….  Yes, they actually had an Internet connection. It was still rather early…..two or three hours until it got dark.   So I took a nap while Fayez went for a run.   This became a familiar pattern…..pull into our campground, get the camping gear unpacked, set up the Internet….locate the showers and restrooms…..   And then I would take a refreshing nap while Fayez went for a run around the area.   Usually Fayez ended up taking a short nap when he got back, too.   Then he was energized to fix a tasty meal.

Contrary to the way it may sound, I also helped with the meal.   We brought our rice cooker….and an extension cord.   And, I was in charge of cooking the rice…..an easy, but important job.   And, who says I don’t know how to cook?

Doing dishes was a minimal task…..paper plates, plastic spoons, cans of pop or bottled water…..paper towels as napkins.   Our only dirty dish was the rice cooker.   Come to think about it….this is the way I cook at home, too!

This trip has been billed as a “camping trip”….but tonight is the first night we will actually camp.   Camping, for me, at least, is not what it used to be.   Back in the “olden days” when I was younger,  I slept under the stars;  I slept in a tent;  I slept in the back of my pickup.   All I needed was a sleeping bag…..and I was in good shape.   On the very first trip I took to the West Coast, my traveling companion and I would find a place off the road….maybe near a river or stream…..and simply unroll our sleeping bags and go to sleep.   The next morning, it was not unusual to wake up covered with morning

dew that had condensed on us during the night.  Oh well…. No big deal.   At least, we had a good night’s sleep.

But, those days are in the distant past for me now.   No longer do I have any desire to sleep on the ground.   No…..now we rough it by sleeping in a camping cabin.   Almost every modern campground has them.   They are pretty basic:

 just a couple beds, a heater and/or an air conditioner…..maybe a couple shelves and a couple chairs….although these two items are pretty much optional, depending on the campground.   But, at least, we are inside, off the ground, away from the mosquitoes, with a semi-comfortable bed to sleep on.   We still have to take our own linens….but that is a small price to pay for such luxury.

The real joy in camping, however, comes from a roaring campfire.   We have a grilling basket…..a wonderful device…..in which we cook our food directly over the fire.   Fayez is a master chef when it comes to outdoor cooking.   And I happily eat whatever he prepares…..chicken, corn, potatoes, hot dogs….and, of course, the rice that I cooked.   It is all good.   After the evening meal is finished and the dishes are taken care of……put into the trash container…..and the rice cooker washed out….we can kick back in front of the fire and relax from the day’s journey.

Often we are the only campers who are sitting outside….or who have a fire…   The others are in their expensive RV’s….probably watching satellite TV.   But, we are the lucky ones.   We are the ones having fun. I don’t know…..is sitting in a comfortable RV really camping?   Or is it merely a portable motel that a person pulls behind them as they travel?   But, we are happy to have the night to ourselves….the campfire flickering…. and often the coyotes howling in the distance.

We sit and talk….and discuss….and argue….often struggling to keep our voices down.   We have done this before…..although it was in the middle of winter!   How much more interesting can it get?   Fayez is from a different country….a different religion….a different culture….different viewpoints.   But, what makes it work is his sense of humor, his invariably optimistic outlook, a smile that never fades, his kindness, his loyalty…..and our mutual respect for each other.   Now don’t tell me we don’t have some thought-provoking, raucous discussions.   And….just think…someday this guy will be my doctor!

But, our brief visit to Hells Canyon State Park is coming to an end. Now we must press on toward Paradise.