Hello From Montana!
The road from Dubois to the Grand Teton National Park, and the mother of all national parks, Yellowstone, was filled with classic images of the American west, intense natural beauty, a vast feeling of space, and a huge sense of pride in this beautiful country.
Once The Grand Teton’s became visible, their eye-popping magnificence, power, and raw beauty, bordered on being totally overpowering.
My first stop was at the park entrance and the man in the booth had the perfect look. He was born to the job.
Next stop was at a bend in the Snake River in an area that had been used by various Indian tribes for 11,000 years. I tried not to litter.
The smaller, Grand Teton National Park, was the much better of the two. Although Yellowstone has the reputation, and geothermal flash, Teton has BIG impact. A feeling of raw power and intense natural beauty rolled into one.
Yellowstone is a park of rivers, streams, creeks, forests, valleys, very visible wildlife, and immense size. I rode through a good deal of the park today and came away feeling as though I gave it a good effort…but it couldn’t win me over.
One problem with Yellowstone is that two or three giant fires has seriously damaged large sections of the park. Visually, it’s very noticeable. One in 1988 was particularly damaging. Anyway, fire damage aside, I like Grand Teton better. There are areas in Yellowstone, where the funk of sulphur drifts through the air, and Old Faithful isn’t at all alone. Here it is erupting at exactly 1:12 this afternoon.
There are a good number of smaller geysers to entertain you. But I wouldn’t want to mislead…the air in both of these parks is sweet and clean…I inhaled deeply thinking that it might cleanse me of all those late nights in Juke Joints.
Tonight is my last night in West Yellowstone, Montana. I want to say something good about this place but I’m left thinking that it’s no more or less than any other small, summertime driven economy, full of motels, stores full of crappy tourist stuff, except with pictures of buffalos, and cowboys. One thing that made it interesting was that just like Dubois, WY, the summertime help in the motels and restaurants were foreign nationals. Romanians, Ukrainians, Croatians, and Turks. Why? Because American kids will not do this kind of work. Excuuuuuse me! All I can say is that each one of these foreign workers who I met couldn’t have been more efficient, and polite. That’s Layla, my waitress at dinner this evening. She is Croatian, and she let me know that it was OK to visit Montenegro, and Croatia, but to stay the hell away from Serbia. I crossed my self, and swore to her that I shall never set foot on Serbian soil.
Tomorrow morning, it’s off to Missoula, Montana, with a night spent in Dillon, to break up the trip. I’ll be taking the road less travelled to Missoula, and can’t wait to see some of the old timey towns along the way. Great thanks to my brother David, another biker of serious experience who has been of great help especially with his knowledge of this area, things to see, and neat routes to take. Thanks, Dave!
Speaking about along the way…I’m mulling over a change in my travel plans. Washington and Oregon hold no special interest for me, and I thankin’ about doing something else… something very exciting.
XO
Middie
