Devils Tower to Rocky Mountain National Park

Devils Tower

I know what you're thinking.  You think I should have an apostrophe in "Devil's" but you know what, you would be wrong.  Geographical place names do not use apostrophes in the United States.  You're welcome.

See, I told you.


Now, who remembers this:




The thing is, I never recognized this as Devils Tower in Close Encounters and I never really had this place on my radar as somewhere I would like to visit.  I just think it was hard to get a perspective on how big this thing is from a mashed potato mockup in Richard Dreyfus' living room.

It's huge.  We camped inside the park, well technically it's a National Monument, and all the spots have views like this:

So, the indian legend goes something like this, and I might be paraphrasing.  The daughters of the Lakota chief were out playing one day and a bear shows up.  They scream and run around and try to get away and ask God to help them and God shows up and says "Hey, climb up this tree stump".  So they do and then the stump starts rising up and the bear is like "What the hey",  and starts clawing like crazy at the stump and God turns all the daughters into the Pleaides constellation.  I think the moral of the story is that you should be very specific when you ask God for help.

It is hard to give any perspective on how big this thing really is, if only there were a person climbing on the side for scale.  Oh, wait it's my lucky day.

This guy was stuck doing the splits for the whole time we watched him.

Doh, I forgot my shoes.

See, claw marks.

You know what else they have here.  A big 'ole prairie dog town.

And, you know what else they have here.  Nothing, which is why we only stayed one night.

One last shot one the way outta town.

Doo Dee Doop Dee Doo

Well, ok it really looked more like this.

Rocky Mountain National Park

Estes Park, gateway to Rocky Mountain National Park.  Ugh.  So crowded here.  No vacancy signs at every hotel, motel, shed or lean to that could support a tent camper.

This is our view from the Bambi door:

There is just nothing like camping in the wilds of a KOA, sleeping under the stars near a major tourist destination, in summer, when school is out.


Yep, it's crowded here.  But being the intrepid pioneers that we are, we got up early and got into the park so we could get some shots like this:

We have visited here once before so we headed straight up the Trail Ridge road to get some wildlife shots and freeze our tender bits off, cuz ya know what?  It's cold at 12,000 feet.

Man, these antlers are so heavy

This guy would never fit between the Winnebagos at the KOA.

Look at you, you cute little hantavirus carrier.

Frozen ears, frozen toes, frozen fingers but who's complaining?  Um, me.

Nom, nom, nom

What you cannot see in this photo is that there are a gazillion tourists walking around this lake, that smile does not reflect my annoyance with tourist overload at this point.  When I head out into the wilds my hope is to actually be in the wilderness.  Not gonna happen here and despite lovin' every minute of it, Fred and I are pretty pooped so we're ready to hightail it to our over heated home in Austin.

Summary

Miles Traveled - Approximately 5,000

Best Part - For me the buffalo in Yellowstone, For Fred it was the Beartooth Pass

Worst Part - Worrying about the compartment over the bed falling after the screws broke

Most Expensive Gas - $4.79 in Aspen, Colorado

Beartooth Highway to Yellowstone National Park

Hauling the Bambi up Beartooth Pass

Up and up and up we went, 10,000 feet up the sides of Mt. Crumpit with our Bambi all loaded and hopes not to tump it.

Yeah, all I could think of was that scene in How the Grinch Stole Christmas where he's got that little dog Max hauling that loaded sleigh up the mountain with the little bits of snow falling off the edges.

Our saving grace was that we left really early so there was not much traffic lining up behind us urging us to move faster than the 10 miles per hour that we were going.  If you plan on hauling a trailer up this road, and really why shouldn't you 'cause it's so entertaining, go at the crack of dawn.

Once at the summit we were treated to some highly complex geological phenomenon I like to call icy patches.

 These are just as fascinating as they sound unless you are pulling over onto one while hauling a trailer and it just happens to be on a crumbly ledge over a 10,000 ft. drop.  So naturally we did what any experienced long-haul truck driver would do.  We got out and took a picture of the Bambi.

Then we rode the brakes all the way down and got stuck in a construction traffic jam at the bottom.  Fortunately, this was the view out the window while we waited for the crew to basically construct a new road.

Beautiful but the water temperature is slightly above that of liquid nitrogen.

It took us a couple hours to go over Beartooth pass so we hightailed it through the north entrance of Yellowstone and went straight to Pebble Creek Campground because it was first come, first served.  Lucky for us we got the last spot.

This is the view out the front window.

This is our third visit to Yellowstone so by this time we have seen every belching mud pot and gurgling geyser in the park so we opted not to drive to Old Faithful or tour Mammoth Hot Springs (mammoth refers to the crowd sizes).  It was over 60 miles from our camping spot to Old Faithful and even though the park is over 2 million acres the thing is it only has that one road.  A road filled with Winnebagos, bears, buffalo, and wildlife paparazzi so it takes forever to get anywhere.

We opted instead to focus on the Lamar Valley and do some hikes near the campsite.  Lamar Valley has lots and lots of these majestic buffalo creatures that also happen to be rather dumb.  And by lots, I mean way too many.

Surprisingly, they do not smell bad but they are very snotty and snorty.

Unfortunately, they don't have the common courtesy to realize that you are higher up on the evolutionary scale and will take their ever lovin' time getting off the road.  Also, those nit picky park rangers frown on you honking your horn or ever so gently nudging them with your bumper.  So, no, do not give me a home where the buffalo roam you'd never get anywhere.

We took a little hike around Pebble Creek to do some birdwatching.

and looky who happened to be slurpin' up some yummy termites from a rotten log next to the trail.

Fred and I prefer our current unmauled condition so we managed to employ a sophisticated anti-bear technique to scare him off.  Fred coughed and he freaked out and ran away.

We had hoped to see the re-introduced wolves here but they were busy dodging the local ranchers who apparently are really keen on their second amendment rights.  So, we had to entertain ourselves looking for tourists getting way too close to dangerous, unpredictable large mammals or pushing each other off the boardwalk in the geyser area onto the thin crust covering boiling hot water.  You don't have to look for long in Yellowstone since the average tourist has the IQ of a russet potato.

You know what's between these people and a large buffalo herd.  Um, nothing.

A few years ago a woman got gored in the butt because she grabbed a buffalo by the horns to try to turn his head for a better shot.  I bet park rangers get together at the end of each season and have a few beers and just laugh and laugh.

Ok, one last "Oh beautiful for spacious skies" shot and then we gotta hook up the Bambi and hightail it all the way to Devils Tower.

Cody, WY to Red Lodge, MT to Bear Tooth Highway

Before I resume our travels, it's important to note that yesterday was Fred's birthday.  Not a big one that ends in zero, but still.  So, in my shame I must admit that for his birthday dinner I prepared......wait for it......canned chili.  Yeah, don't judge me.  We were in Yellowstone and my options were limited.  I prefer to think that we celebrated with the quiet dignity that the occasion merited.  Also, in my defense, this is the man who told me excitedly on my last birthday that he had bought me a really nice, big rock, only to then take me outside to show me the actual landscaping rock he had purchased for our yard.  So, there's that.

Wyoming, land of buffalos.  Also, land of no cell service, no wifi, windy two lane highways and construction zones, but mostly buffalos.  We drove from Yampa River State Park to Cody and ended up in a crappy KOA.  Usually, I avoid these places because they are crowded with families, a pool full of kid pee and what I like to call a "pass the mustard" kind of camping spot.  In other words, you can open up the window and ask your neighbor to pass the mustard 'cause you're so close.

See...

Not exactly wilderness camping but we needed wifi and a shower.  Another reason not to visit Cody is that it's the home of Buffalo Bill.  So every single place in town has his name plastered on it which makes you think of the Beatles song. all. day. long.  "Hey Buffalo Bill, what did you kill, Buffalo Bill."    And, yes, I now know it's Bungalow Bill but that did not stop me from having this in my head the entire time.  It was also super dusty here so when we took a quick trip to Yellowstone and left the windows open we came back to find the inside of the Bambi, and our computer coated in a fine dust.

Speaking of Yellowstone, we drove in the first day just to have lunch there.  As I was slathering mayonnaise on a couple of slices of bread, I looked up and saw this:

Yep, that close.  I immediately put our picnic table between this guy and me.  Fred grabbed his sandwich 'cause well it was lunch time.  There is just something about a buffalo's eyes.  They say "I could kill you if I wanted, but I'm just too tired".

Fred and I have been to Yellowstone twice before so this time we tried to avoid the hoards of tourists at the most visited spots.  So, sorry no shots of Old Faithful or Mammoth Hot Springs, 'cause those places are crowded with tourists and screaming kids with melting ice cream cones and crazy people trying to get a shot of a moose or a their family way too close to a bubbling mud pot.

After skipping the family pancake breakfast and the Sunday prayer service at the KOA, we left for Red Lodge, Montana for one of the best camping spots we have been to.







This place was so serene, right along the Rock Creek River it was like the anti-KOA.  We are here for one reason only, the Beartooth Highway.  After the Million Dollar Highway in Colorado I had my misgivings about high altitude, near death drives but up we went because the Beartooth is considered one of the most spectacular drives in America.

We took part of the Beartooth first without the Bambi just to do a reconnaissance mission and it seemed fine at first since Montana has chosen to build these cute but helpful little highway features I like to call guard rails.  Nevertheless, it was still a sweaty underarm inducing drive up to the summit complete with hairpin curves, mile long drop-offs, and Fred stopping in the middle of road every few minutes to gaze through the windshield because he thought he had found our target bird, a rosy black finch.

As we approached the summit, it also started to rain.  Hard.  Then it started to hail.  Hard.  It looked like this.

Also lightning but I couldn't get a photo of that because it was very, very important that I worry about Fred staying on the road and not sliding off into icy nothingness.  He loved it 'cause the man is a machine and can drive anywhere, anytime.  Oh, is that a little birdie on that icy patch off to side?  Quick, slam on the breaks!

Then, outta nowhere it clears and you get Julie Andrews views like this.  That little pointy thing in the back is someones's idea of what a bear's tooth looks like from a distance.  Which is really the only way you want to see a bear's tooth if you think about it.

Yeah, nothing says enjoy our quaint little scenic tourist highway more than a sign like this.

Typical hair pin curve, there were about 45 of these.

That's me at the summit looking for interesting rocks to bring home.  That's the pile I wanted to put in the truck but Fred made me whittle it down to two.

These little alpine flowers covered the meadows.  They would last about 15 seconds in Austin before being roasted to a crisp.

Sure the scenery is great but try drivin' this road with an RV while marmots dart across the road and your husband looks out the driver's window for finches on sharp curves.

Yea!  That's a black rosy finch.  He hangs out on patches of snow and picks off the insects.  New bird for me and most importantly Fred.  Was he worth a 2,000 mile drive and a near death drive up a mountain.  Hell, yeah.

That evening we celebrated our new bird with a bottle of wine, but then we celebrate every evening that way.  We relaxed and then went in to Red Lodge for what was maybe the worst Mexican food meal this side of the Rio Grande.  Don't know what the hell we were thinking getting Mexican food in Montana.  Never again.

Tomorrow we head over the Beartooth Mountain pass towing the Bambi and head to Yellowstone to camp for two nights.  Wish us luck.

Difficult Campground Aspen to Yampa River State Park

Ahh, Aspen, I should live here except for the fact that only Wall Street hedge fund managers can afford to call this place home.  We actually do manage hedges but ours consists of the Nandina that gets overgrown in the front yard and I don't think that will translate into enough money for a ski chalet here or a private jet, which is pretty much the standard mode of transportation.

Can you visit Aspen on a budget?  Sure, you can.  But, you will need to make some concessions.  Like what, you may ask?  Well, we camped at Difficult Campground a few miles outside of Aspen for four nights for about $25 a night.  What luxuries did we have to do without?   Just a few minor things like bathing and electricity.  But really, who doesn't love four days of pit toilets.

It's so nice here though so who cares.  Everyday we took either a bike ride along a beautiful trail into town, hiked, birdwatched or drove some mountain roads through spectacular scenery.  Well worth any stinkiness from the boon docking.  Actually, we did manage to hose ourselves off every couple days which resulted in the our new discovery......the shower leaks pretty badly in our little Bambino.

This trail runs about four miles into town along a marsh and river with mountains in the background.  Lots of birds and trout and fancy Aspen women pushing strollers with little dogs or babies in them, sometimes both.

This my friends is Maroon Bells, one of the prettiest hikes you will ever be lucky enough to take.  Clear mountain lake - check, snow-capped mountains - check, wildflowers, birds, butterflies - check, check, check.  Not to mention cute little marmot varmints and precious pikas.  The key is to arrive early, otherwise after 9:00 a.m. the hordes arrive by the bus load and then one of us gets grumpy when they have to share what should be my personal, private paradise.

Wait, wait I think I see a small, non-descript brown bird.

 I wish we could have hiked to the summit, but time and laziness prevented it.

Work it Mr. Marmot, work it.  Now, look at me like you know I have Cheezits on me.  That's it, just hold it one, more, second.  Got it.

I hope when I die I'm pushin' up daisies that look like this.

This is where it helps to have that master's degree in Biology with a special concentration in animal behavior.  Look closely and maybe even an uneducated person like yourself can locate the beaver's lodge.

Why so sad Mr. Pika?

That's a dipper.  He's a small bird, so technically he's a little dipper, that is found is rushing streams.  He dives underwater to look for larvae.  He also constantly pumps his tail like he's listening to a snappy tune only he can hear.

Last one, I promise.  But, 'cmon doesn't it just make you want to sing "The hills are aliiivvvee..."

Back at the campground.  Like I said, there really is nothing that Difficult about it except the less than ideal hygiene conditions.

This warbling vireo shared our campsite with us and we watched her feed these four, yes four, baby chicks from dawn's early light till almost dark.  Back and forth, back and forth it looked exhausting.

This lazuli bunting was just a little too far away but isn't his color to die for?

Aspen trees creep me out.  Seriously, stop judging me!

We took a drive up to Castle Creek and did a short hike along a dirt road.  And, just when you think it can't get any prettier..................

Bam!  You get views like this.  Why don't more people live here?  Oh, I forgot you need a lot of money.  Did I mention that gas was $4.79/gal in town, or that houses sell for $1,000 a square foot?

Know what this is?  It's service berry.  You know who really likes service berry this time of year?

Yep, there were two at our campground during our stay.  One we saw on the road coming back from town.  It scampered off into the woods.  The other one rubbed up against some campers' tent during the night and gnawed a log looking for insects.

Sadly, we had to leave Aspen and head toward Steamboat Springs.  This is where we camped for the night Yampa River State Park.  Two words, no gracias.  It was hot, dry and ironically a mosquito haven.  The beauty of this place was in the clean, roomy bathrooms with nice hot showers.  Ahhh.

We clean up pretty good don't we?