Homeward bound

We left Yellowstone thinking it would be a boring five day trip home. So, as Debbie browsed the possible stay-overs afforded by Harvest Host (a free overnight if you were to buy a bottle of something), the Naked Winery & Sick'n'Twisted Brewing Company leapt off the web page, blazing heated excitement from Hill City, South Dakota. There were bottles of Foreplay in the lobby wine racks, which John would have bought just for the display value in his pre-wife years.

What did you think we
were going to show you?

We both had the bartender pour us glasses of an okay porter called Panty Dropper and let us take them back to the coach that John had inserted into the one narrow slot in the back. There was a bench on which we drank our beer and a creek that played over smooth, rounded stones all night long.

First, though, we had stopped by Billings, Montana, because Debbie had found a Cabela's store right along the route. It was near a Wal-Mart and a Cracker Barrel, all convenient to I-90 and all of which allow RVs to stay the night for free, no hookups. But Cabela's also had a dump station. So we went there. This one was inoperative, however. (We since learned that the Grandville Cabela's right near home also has a dump station, but we're told that “it has not been made operative.”)  So far, then, Cabela's is less than impressive, although we have to admit that Wal-Mart does not have the fish tanks and stuffed animals.

Needing to dump our waste tanks down the road, our third Beeline Home night was spent at commercial RV camp in Mitchell, South Dakota where we broke our Eating Out Prime Directive: Eschew chains in favor of something local and new. Our home Ruby Tuesday had closed several years ago –for the love of Edesia, WHY?!– and we sorely miss their salad bar. The people at the next table were talking about The Corn Palace, which both John and Debbie had heard of somewhere, some time, but had no idea what it was. Not only did the guy behind Debbie tell us, but gave directions, explained the free parking and Free Admission. He also gave us a $15 RT coupon. So, of course(!), we hopped in our Honda toad and went right over.

Mitchell, SD, floats in a sea of Midwest corn and has no real attraction except for this civic-center & basketball court. Older Grand Rapidians immediately would think of the Welsh Auditorium. The big deal here is that the decorations on the entire exterior are made of corn ears, split in half lengthwise, and lovingly glued in place. They change the design every year! And have been since 1892. Inside, walls of pictures show the histories and give fascinating details about the colors of kernels, etc. The parking really was free. And no admission charge either! John was so enchanted that he took loads of pictures and simply embarrassed Debbie with his exuberance. Hey!

There's only one Corn Palace in the entire world! When were we going to ever see it again?!

Now just two more stops before Home. One was a Harvest Host Winery –La Vida Loca is near Indianola, south of Des Moines– where the owners were preparing to depart on their own Adventure, a 500 mile long walk across Spain. But first, they allowed us some samples, then offered each of us a free glass of a really tasty white – while we sat on

their patio to watch the sun set and chat a while. John even got a tour of the operations, in the basement of this really small local winery where the owner loved and was proud of what he does.

He said they produce perhaps 5,000 bottles a year, which sounds impressive to ignorant people like us, but is drop in the ocean of wine in this country. We liked it a lot, and bought a couple bottles.

One more commercial RV park, near Oglesby, Illinois, lay between us and home. It was just a stop-over and we left relatively early, somehow avoiding all but one toll through Chicago, and didn't lose any more hubcaps on Michigan's bumpy highways. Actually, to tell the truth, we found I-196 almost smooth and we're not giving Gretchen Whitmer any credit for this; she still hasn't gotten the Legislature to agree to rob us with her huge 45-cent/gallon gas tax hike, less than two-thirds of which would pay for any road work.

Regarding the Ranger programs at the national parks:  We had been very impressed with the ones at Yellowstone in the 90's when we were traveling with the kids.  They are still very good, but we noticed some differences this time around.  In the 90's, many of the Rangers were teachers who had been working summers in that park for many years and had developed their own presentations for their particular interest.  Now, there seem to be fewer ranger-led programs, and more of the Rangers are of the younger persuasion.  When asked about it, one told us that the NPS funding has essentially been flat in more recent years.  This has resulted in fewer Rangers and fewer Ranger talks.  

Also, because the younger, seasonal Rangers are encouraged to work various parks in three-season chunks to punch their tickets in hopes of full-time positions, they arrive at a new park and are given  information that the NPS has developed rather than developing their own "lesson plans".  This explains why they all toe the party line on a number of possibly contentious ecological issues.  We did run into a number, though, who were well-educated in their fields before coming to the NPS.  For example, the ranger leading the Canyon walk at Yellowstone had a degree in geology.

A not-quite apology to our Number Two Son:  Not quite 30 years ago, when our popup camper busted an axle in Yellowstone and we were dealing with three antsy kids while waiting for UPS to bring the new one, David took it into his head to become an NPS Junior Ranger.  It really is a great little program for the kids, complete with a workbook and fun facts to be learned only first-hand and only from a real Ranger, wearing the campaign hat and all.   

David was so taken with this that he went through the workbook, laid out his demands and kept the entire family hopping around that huge park for three days while he gathered facts, leaves, animal hairs, official Ranger signatures, and other kid-compelling things. 

The program still runs, but it's more than a souvenir patch the kids earn these days.  We witnessed the graduates being sworn in, taking the repeat-after-me pledge to always protect the Park they had just learned so much about.  And these days –sorry David– Junior Rangers have the opportunity to purchase their own uniforms! The coolest multi-pocketed field vest and boonie hats, like the kind Dad's worn for decades in the woods, all in official Ranger Brown.  What doting parent would say no?    Also, for the older "kids", the NPS has taken a tip from the popularity of the online Role Playing Games like World of Warcraft, et.al.   A similar program for older teenagers and young adults sends them on Quests to become park stewards.

  

So–– WOULD WE DO IT AGAIN?

Debbie spent a total of three or four minutes home before begging, pleading, wheedling and threatening John for another trip. John is still trying to relax.

Yet, it was exciting and different and the grand open spaces out West call us for more attention. John wants to get to parts of Utah and Arizona that we missed. Recall that we blew off Colorado in the April snow and never did get back there. And by the time we were leaving Washington and Idaho, we'd run out of time to explore Canada's mountains around Jasper and Banff and whatever lay between us and them. John still wants to see Texas, too.

We already told our East Coast families to expect us, but that trip in 2020 will be far less grand than this past summer's, simply because we have been in every state east of the Mississippi River throughout our entire lives. About the only non-family attraction would be the Smithsonian, which we grew up less than a day's drive from but, somehow, never even once visited. Still, it might be good to see some places, although our trips back home have been disappointing for the amount of elbow-to-elbow crowding that's taken place.

Yellowstone - the ultimate park

...because it was the last park on our trip, if for no other reason. But we think there are plenty of other reasons: several geyser basins, the mudpots, the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, sprawling glacial valleys, and the thousands of bison challenging your vehicle's audacity to cross their paths once you've gotten inside the Roosevelt Arch.

We found a 40-foot coach is not a happy coach at Yellowstone. At the time we were there, there was only one campground inside the park that would accept a rig of our size, and it was in the northwest quadrant of this immense park. We ended up camping just outside the north entrance at the town of Gardiner on US Forest Service land. For a mere $3.50/night, we had a wonderful grassy site at more than 6100 feet of altitude.  No hookups, no problem; we had fresh water, spacious waste tanks and a generator to recharge our "house batteries" after watching our evening movies.  Even better, we saw the wildlife wander into our campsite, including elk and pronghorn deer. To get to camp, our coach had to climb 800 feet up the side of a mountain, an extremely steep climb through several switchbacks over a 2 mile long dirt road. The average slope was very steep, and that was just average.

But once we got there, it was an enchanting view and we could peek directly into the park. We looked across the valley to Yellowstone's Mammoth Hot Springs which is more than five miles line of sight; that's just too far for a zoomed-in closeup. Every day we could see the white limestone rocks of the travertine formation manufactured from the dissolved limestone the water spewed from the hot springs, complete with hydrothermal steam rising from it in the mornings. In this picture, what appears to be a snowfield is actually the travertine terrace of Mammoth Hot Springs.  See the steam?

The main north-south road through the 3,500 square mile Park stretches 95 miles border to border –at a speed limit of 45! Nobody can average that, however, due to tight turns and the wildlife that keeps wandering on the asphalt. To see everything the park has to offer, you would need

Mama elk and elkling

to spend more than a week there, and it would be best to move your base camp to various locations as you explore. We chose a section of the park to highlight each day, and literally spent four hours just driving our car to each one and back again. It was not wasted time, because the scenery was stunning and never got old. John and Debbie were blown away daily just with the first 5 miles of the park, which they drove just to get to any other location. We were here a total of five days –really, not enough time.

We missed our first planned Ranger-led hike because we didn't realize the drive down to the West Thumb area (in the south half) would take well more than the two hours we had allotted. This was disappointing because we thoroughly enjoy the education available from these marvelously knowledgeable people who live in this fantastic environment every day.

After walking the West Thumb boardwalk, we headed west from for half an hour, which found us in the Old Faithful Geyser basin. We arrived just in time for the 2:24pm appearance of the heated stream of waters dancing merrily high into the air before an appreciative crowd, many (but not most) of whom applauded this performance engendered by the unforgiving and deadly magma lurking a few miles beneath their feet. Up until the 50's, the eruption had occurred nearly hourly. The Rangers tell us earthquakes in 1959 and 1983 changed the underground "plumbing", and the length of the eruptive period began to expand. When we had the kids there in '90s we were told the average time between eruptions (ATBE -John got used to this sort of thing from his exposure to the government's aircraft regulatory division....) –ahem. 
Anyway, our recollection is that the ATBE in 1993 was around 76 minutes, give or take 10. Today, they say it is close to 94 minutes, +/-. That's too long to wait around for the reprise when we have a two hour drive back home and a daily pre-dinner date with an aperitif. Besides which, John's acerbic view of silly social customs would not let him endure another round of the crowd's ignorant applause for a jet of a water controlled only by simple physics. If you're a New Ageite, please leave a comment trying to convince him that Water's feelings can be hurt. We've already pointed to its merry dance, okay?  And we already know you're drinking Smart Water and believe it has Memory, as well.

The next day, Debbie wanted to attend another Ranger-led walk, one that was to last nearly two hours at the Mud Volcano on the east side of the rough figure-eight (or maybe a B?) formed by the Park Roads. It was in the Hayden Valley, a favorite hang out for the bison, it seems. The Ranger, Debbie reports, knew a lot about these “mud pot” features in this area –being distinctly different from geysers while sharing the same basic origin: underground water heated by magma. The difference is that the “plumbing” here does not have the constrictions that would keep boiling water from the surface until it had built up so much pressure that it just had to blow. Also, the water is acidic, some with  ph=1 –think battery acid. As a result, the rock is all dissolved and turned to mud when mixed with the water. 

 As you might expect, the underground thermal activity keeps the ground warm, too; hence the bison calling the Hayden Valley a favorite place. We hadn't seen many, however, because –just as the boy elk on the west coast who preferred to hang out with the guys until being forced to participate in the 7^th grade school dance (see Northern California #24)– these bison were off in the woods chasing their Buffalo Gals. (And now, you've that song in your head, too, Don'tcha?) The Ranger explaining these facts of rutting to Debbie's group was quite circumspect because of the number of younger humans present; he promised that we would see the bison showing up after their “family reunions” were finished.

Debbie was a bit disappointed in the mud pots believing them more watery than her 90's recollection. And John says, once you've stirred your soup on the stove, it's all pretty much the same, except for the sulfurous stink.

 We crossed the road to visit Sulphur Caldron, for the same sort of thing, then drove across the middle of the B –more than a 30 mile trip!– to check out Monument Geyser Basin and the Artists Paintpots. These were more colorful because of the thermophile bacteria to be found in them. Some Life can thrive in water as hot as 250 degrees, although none of the ponds in Yellowstone could reach that temperature, of course. (Water boils its extra energy away at less than
200 at these altitudes; you have to cook differently here, too.) The bacteria color the ponds brilliant greens, blues, reds and yellows and you actually can estimate the water's heat just by looking at the color of the bacteria in it. Debbie was just fascinated to learn that an enzyme from a microbe found in a hot spring here facilitated scientific study of DNA!

The next day was the fourth for us having stayed in “dry camps”.  Our coach's generator makes all the power we need in just a few hours and stores it in a bank of half a dozen batteries; we have 100 gallons of fresh water on board, and other tanks hold more than a hundred gallons of “gray” and “black” waste water. (“Gray” water comes from the sink and shower drains; you deduce whence the other

stuff originates.) A private campground in Gardiner charged us $15 to dump and fill.  And since we'd only paid 3-1/2 bucks per night to the USFS for our wonderful campsite, we didn't complain.

←Looking back toward our boondocking camp from atop the white travertine formation.  BryRV is too small to see and our handheld GPS figured it was just behind that yellowish hill to the left.  The town is the Army post cum Park HQ just inside the Gardiner entrance.

Mainly because we'd been looking over to the Mammoth Hot Springs inside the Park the whole time, we visited there starting early with another Ranger-led hike around the different springs.  This is atop one of the huge white ledges (in paragraph-3 above) on the side of the mountain here.  

We lunched a the Udine Falls, one of the very many falls (not lunches) in this northern part of the Park

Our final day in Yellowstone we spent traveling across the northern part of the park after taking a Ranger-led walk along the south rim of The Grand Canyon Of The Yellowstone. It's very much like the big one down in Arizona, except it's not ten miles across.

The scenery here also is distinctly different from that farther south in the center of the ancient –yet still very active!– volcano. Vast vistas of mountains and valleys and plains and– well, pictures just do not satisfy. We will carry the experience with us until we are no more. We did see one geologic feature that John recalls having been impressed by during our family trip three decades earlier: cliffs of basalt looking rather much like teeth because the rock's crystalline structure apparently caused it to fracture in tall hexagon columns.

East of the Tower-Roosevelt intersection, we were being wow'd by the bison that finally had finished their "family reunion" business and had gathered along the roadway. The NPS loudly and constantly educates us tourist types to stay a minimum of 25 yards away from these creatures when we are afoot. As one Ranger advised, they are not cuddly at all. But that separation is something we cannot do when they approach us in our vehicles. It was a bit unnerving to drive past these things almost close enough to reach out and touch.

It's about the last week of August. We've been on the road for more than four months now. Some days that doesn't seem possible. Other days– well, John just wants to get back home. We will head north to I-90 and shoot east. Our next blog will be the last, but we have two wineries among the last camps!