Bighorn Mountains, Cody WY, Yellowstone National Park (via Montana)
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We awoke to discover that the rain had turned to snow in the night! There was about an inch on the ground and it was still coming down. The clouds were still very low in the sky and there was lots of fog. Lots of good driving conditions. Still, there wasn’t anything to do but head out. We were determined to see Yellowstone.
We headed into the Bighorn Mountains. By all accounts one of the more scenic mountain ranges in Wyoming, if not the country. I can’t really say since we never saw them. The fog was so thick we couldn’t see past the road for the most part. We crossed the Powder River Pass at 9666 feet (the highest we’d been so far) and started down the other side. For a brief moment the fog cleared long enough for a brief glimpse of a mountainside so we stopped to take a look.
There was a sign describing a monument up on the hill (which we couldn’t see). It had been erected to memorialize an Englishmen who had been hunting big horn sheep when he rode or fell or something off a cliff and was killed. The ranch where he had been staying erected the monument, no doubt out of guilt for having let him get himself killed while visiting them.
The road continued down into Ten Sleep, then through many miles of uninteresting countryside through Greybill and into Cody. It continued to snow all day. But, we had made it to Cody, a mere 56 miles from Yellowstone. And, according to the guide book, Teddy Roosevelt had described that 56 mile stretch of road as “the most scenic in the United States”. We might not see much of it, but we were looking forward to it.
We stopped in Cody for gas. I mentioned to the attendant we were headed for Yellowstone. He asked me which gate we were going in (there are 5 entrances). I didn’t know the name so I just said, ya know, the one down the road here. The North gate? he said. No, I don’t think that’s right. Chief Joseph? I don’t know, it’s the one down the road here. The east gate? That one’s closed (implied: you moron). Oh really? It had closed a few days ago for the season. The road construction guys wanted a month to work on it. It usually closed Nov. 1.
Not a sign, no indication at all. We would have driven 56 miles (with no turnoff possibilities I might point out) and then been denied entry. Thank you Wyoming highway system. So, okay, how do we get there? Well, there are two more entrances on this side. The northeast and the north. The road to the northeast entrance crosses the Beartooth Pass (at over 10,000 feet). The guy called the highway patrol to check on the road conditions. He said, I just came from there. It’s pretty slick. There are 15 or 20 switchbacks. Very dangerous if you don’t know the road. I don’t recommend it. Oh, and by the way, there’s construction too.
Okay, scratch Beartooth Pass. What else ya got? Well, if you drive 200 miles north through Montana, you can get in through the North entrance. Hmm. Well, we didn’t come all this way to miss Yellowstone, so off we went. We passed through many more miles of uninteresting Wyoming countryside, and reached Gardiner, Montana. In fact, we passed within about 20 miles of our previous travels through Montana, near Billings. We were beginning to think that maybe Trout Lake was in Montana.
We did manage to reach Yellowstone before dark though, so we headed in. We hit Yellowstone village which was deserted, at least of people. It was filled with elk! They were everywhere. On the front lawn of the post office. On the median of the road. At the gas station. It looked like they had taken over the place. Apparently they come down from the hills this time of year to mate. We could hear them bugling which is the noise the males make to call the females (if it were only that easy) and to warn off potential rivals. It’s a pretty high pitched noise for such a big animal. It’s kind of like a Cadillac with a Chevette horn.
From there we headed to Mammoth Hot Springs. And they were. Mammoth, hot and springs. What a sight. I had never seen thermal pools. They were huge, with smoke billowing out of them. Down the hillsides they had created terraces and pools from the minerals in the water. The water bubbled down over them. They were all different colors depending on the mineral content. We wandered around through there, fascinated by it all. We came across of group of 20 or so teenagers on a field trip. Teenagers are as fun to watch as elk, and potentially as dangerous. They don’t actually bugle, but clearly they were trying to mate. We listened to the science teacher describing the various phenomena, which was fun. But after awhile, we had had enough of the teenagers.
It was now dark so we headed back to Gardiner. Les felt compelled to stay at the cheapest motel in town so we stopped at all 15 or so to ask for rates. The Super 8 was the second cheapest but looked a lot better than the cheapest so we stayed there. We had passed a place that promised the best pizza in the west (yeah, right) and it being Monday, we thought we’d go over there and maybe watch the game. Well, they don’t have a TV but their pizza isn’t too bad. Not the best in the west, but I’m sure, the best in Gardiner.
The Best Western across the street did have the game on in their bar so we stopped in there for 20 minutes or so. Monday night football had now become a tradition so we decided we’d need to stop next week too. Pittsburgh trounced Houston by the way.
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