deer

Change of Plans

/ L. Ryan Storms / Leave a comment

Day 17: 6/18/24
From: Yellowstone National Park, WY (Grant Village Campground)
To: We’ll know when we get there (Sheridan, WY by way of the Bighorn Scenic Byway, by way of Cody, WY by way of Cooke City, MT
Distance: 316 miles

There’s an inch of snow on the ground when we wake up. The sleeping bags were warm enough with the extra blankets, but no one really wants to get out. We do anyway. But with the roads the way they are, we’re reluctant to take the drive over the continental divide again.

So we decide we’re not going to camp another night here since it’s supposed to be another 5-10 degrees colder tonight. Last night was doable. But not really a whole lot of fun. We eat breakfast, pack up camp, and check out by 8:45. We’ll still drive the park today since the weather is better (still 35 degrees!) but we’re not camping.

What will we do? <shrug> We don’t know. We’ll figure it out when we’re done sightseeing at the park and have reception again. We’ll probably drive halfway to the Badlands (which is our destination tomorrow) and book a hotel somewhere along the way. This is where being flexible pays off. 

The kids? Have been real troopers. They have been so good at rolling with the punches. The kind of camping we just did with the supplies we (didn’t) have is not for the faint of heart. Still, there was laughter and joking and conversation. We had a snowball fight this morning, and I even built a little snowman. On June 18th.

We check out early and head towards Grand Prismatic Spring to see it in the daylight hours. It’s a half-hour wait just to get into the parking lot, but it’s beautiful in the sun! Then it’s off through the rest of the park via the middle of the figure 8 of the Yellowstone roads and up through the northeast side and into the Lamar Valley.

Along the way, we see bison, elk, pronghorn, mountain goats, and 4 black bears before we leave the park from the northeast entrance. We intend to follow the road into Montana and back to Wyoming again, but we’re in for a shock. As we exit the park, a sign reads “Beartooth Highway Closed.”

The map says that the Beartooth Highway is closed from October – late May for snow, but now??! Oh right, we just had snow. Panicked, we pop into the post office at Cooke City (which is adorable and probably a great place to vacation, by the way) to ask if someone can point us in the right direction since we are without cell reception and won’t have it for most of today’s drive. The postal worker at the desk is a wonderful human who helps us first with his knowledge that we still should be able to get where we want to go, and next by printing out Google Map directions for us like it’s 1998. I hug the paper to my chest and relish having real directions. And we owe this man. Because this route is way more scenic than what we might otherwise have seen.

The drive is amazing. The scenery is incredible. Had we not decided to leave Yellowstone early, we never would have seen any of this. Sometimes things that go wrong are really just things going right. We drive through Chief Joseph Scenic Byway, which is a series of hairpin turns (no, not as bad as Independence Pass in Colorado, and this time there are guard rails), but the views are simply incredible. We can see the snow coming down on mountain peaks around us and the rolling hillside around us makes it seem almost like we’re in another country.

When we get to Cody, we’ve got cell reception again, so I pull up the a hotel in Sheridan, WY and book it. We are ready for hot showers and warm beds. We just have to drive 3 more hours to get there. But we’re unprepared for the continued gorgeousness of the scenery. I mean, we were just in Yellowstone, right? How could it get better? Well, I’m pretty sure Wyoming cornered the market when it comes to scenic vistas. We take the Bighorn Scenic Byway through Bighorn National Park and while we don’t see any of the famous sheep, we do see a total of 4 moose along the way, as well as numerous elk, deer, and pronghorn. The landscape is ever changing and along the way, different rock walls are marked with what period they’re from, which was super cool as we were driving past, but obviously nothing I actually retained since I can’t remember any of it now as I type. Cambrian, Pennsylvanian, and some other time periods from a really long time ago. What I do know is that the rock changes drastically in shape and color and size. But also, the landscape itself changes.

We have seen rolling meadows, green hillsides, rocky crags, and a panoramic landscape that makes us feel like we’re literally on top of the world. We stop at one scenic overlook to take photos and Husband creates a small army of chipmunks (and one golden mantled ground squirrel twice their size — he must be the general). I laugh and photograph him taking video of them. Then I decide I might have to call him Cinderella.

When we reach our hotel in Sheridan, we’re excited to find it’s a suite with a kitchenette and a free laundry room I will definitely utilize. Hot showers, fresh pizza from Powder River Pizza & Pub, and television tonight.

While doing laundry, I meet a retired woman from Florida who’s traveling with her husband across the country and visiting national parks, much like us. We also end up talking with a man from North Carolina who’s traveling cross-country on his motorcycle and who just came from Devil’s Tower earlier in the day. The three of us have conversations about the parks and the best places to visit and the best times to visit them. The laundry room is an oasis of kindred spirits tonight. It makes folding clothes so much more enjoyable.

Then bed. We pass out quickly, our many snores filling the room. Tomorrow, we head for the Badlands, and because of today, it’s half the drive it would have been. Win!

Pivot

/ L. Ryan Storms / Leave a comment

Day 12: 6/13/24
From: Sequoia National Park (Potwisha Campground)
To: Golden Gate National Recreation Area (Bicentennial Campground Holiday Inn Express)
Distance: 294 miles

I am up at 5. Again. The variety of birds in the California wilderness is astounding and I have the Merlin bird app open to pass an hour before I even think about waking the kids. The California Towhee and the Acorn Woodpecker are fighting to see who can be the better alarm clock, I think.

At least the night eventually cooled down. We kept the rain fly off the tent and the windows unzipped, so the tent is comfortably cool this morning. I have no idea how long it took to get that way, but at some point in the night, as the temp fell, we all found our way inside sleeping bags.

When I get out of the tent, I notice a small shiny spring in the middle of our campsite. Husband thinks it must have come off of something we own, but I prefer to think a raven left us a gift sometime during the night since we’ve been befriending them everywhere we go. I’m going to miss the ravens when we head home.

We leave the campsite by 7:30 and hit up the visitor center for stickers by 8. Along the way, we encounter a black-tailed deer and two social ravens. See? The ravens have become our friends! Down the last stretch of the General’s Highway and back onto the main highways that will take us northwest to San Francisco we go.

We cross the Golden Gate Bridge, shrouded in fog and get a glimpse of Alcatraz. It’s 2 pm by the time we arrive at the campsite and when we pull up, we all stare in dread for a moment. Sun? No, there’s no sun here. It’s foggy, misty, windy, and 54 degrees midday. And our campsite has a 1/4 mile walk-in down a steep hill. Older child takes a spill on the gravel and scrapes up an ankle, a thigh, and both palms. To add insult to injury, at the bottom of the hill is a clearing where there is only a port-a-potty for our bathroom needs. The kids revolt.

And I don’t blame them.

The view of the Golden Gate Bridge is spectacular, but even that’s not enough for me to want to stay. It’s time to pivot. I use that wonderful cell reception to find a hotel less than a mile away. Now both kids feel bad and say they could just suck it up, but guess what? *I* don’t want to be freezing in a tent all night, have no running water, and have to use a port-a-potty. We’ve done pit toilets a few times on this trip, but this is a new low. So yeah, I look forward to the hotel, too.

From there, we head over to Muir Woods, (Which requires a parking reservation — beware! We managed to book one before heading over.) and take in the Redwoods over the course of 3 miles of trails. We stick mostly to the flat boardwalk and paved trails, which is better for my joints. 

The trees are beautiful and so very different from the sequoia we saw yesterday. Walking amidst so many at one time is magical. And I love that the path is handicap accessible. It’s heartening to see. (In fact, I was impressed just a few days ago when we saw the National Park Service laying concrete on some paths at Bryce Canyon.) It’s encouraging to know that people with disabilities aren’t being left out of seeing and appreciating the natural wonders of our world. And…Husband finds a beautiful ring that fits my finger while looking at the giant clover for a four-leaf. No four-leaf, but I’ll take the ring, thanks!

After Muir, we check into our hotel and virtually collapse. We’ll need to figure out where to order food as we won’t be making any camp meals tonight, but the warmth of a room and the promise of a bed is simply heavenly and we’re soaking in the atmosphere. The wind outside is relentless and we can hear the incessant chiming of the flagpole. Still, no one will complain as we’re just thrilled to be inside. Unfortunately, my hip subluxed getting out of the car today, so that may be my body’s sign to slow my roll a bit. I wonder if it’s due to the extreme changes in temperature. It’s not every day you go from a high of 111 degrees to 53. And colder temps are coming.

Dinner from Floodwater, the restaurant directly next to the hotel, is divine. Pizza, burgers, pork rolls, they have a bit of everything you could want. We’d hoped to play a game of Oregon Trail cards, but everyone is too tired, so we end up asleep just after 9:30 — so tired that no one even cares about the snoring. A plus.

Hot Stuff

/ L. Ryan Storms / Leave a comment

Original Post: July 29, 2015

No, not that Zion.

As if driving through the Utah landscape wasn’t torture enough, we faced another scorching day.  Leaving Bryce, we found the first place to shower since we’d left Missouri and I swore I heard a heavenly choir when I stepped into that shower stall.  Or perhaps that was me.  The bathroom was empty and everyone knows showers have great acoustics…

After showering and doing a quick load of laundry, we headed to the road and to Zion National Park.  Talk about a phenomenal park entrance!  Zion has an incredible road that travels straight through the mountain for 1.1 miles.  The tunnel is exceptionally dark and it is, hands down, a million times cooler experience than driving the Lincoln Tunnel.  Oh, right. The Lincoln Tunnel isn’t really that cool (at least if you’ve been in it a few dozen times).  Plus, if you’re really daring, you can park your car near the entrance of this tunnel and walk through it.  That’s right.  There’s a walkway!  And a “secret” window about halfway through that takes you to a lookout point – only viewable by foot.  Nate and I said we were definitely going to do it, but time got away from us and we ended up missing that opportunity.

It was amazing to me that the views in Zion were so drastically different from those in Bryce Canyon just a few hours’ drive northeast.  Everything in Zion was bigger, more solid, and yes, still breathtaking.  The biggest shock, perhaps, came when we reached our campsite at Watchman Campground to find that it was 100% in direct sun, there was no shade in sight, it was 2 pm, 104 degrees, and the sun wasn’t due to set for another 6 hours at least.

Oh, and of all of the campgrounds I’d booked for this trip, it was the only one I’d managed to secure that was a walk-in site, meaning that we had to carry everything from our car in the parking lot to our campsite about 50 yards away.  That doesn’t sound too awful until you start to do it in 104 degree heat and direct sunlight.  It didn’t seem to matter how much water I consumed, I was sweating it out as fast as I could put it in.  So much for that shower this morning.

The Watchman

We dragged our picnic table off the camp pad and next to the only tree around (which didn’t provide much shade, either) and watched a couple of fawns in the brush behind us as they warily kept an eye on us, trying to figure out whether they should continue foraging or take off in our presence.  The temperatures didn’t seem to bother them in the least. I wished I had their outlook.

The heat didn’t do much for our nerves either.  Nate was instantly annoyed with me for having booked such a site, even if our view was of The Watchman. And I felt horribly guilty as if I should somehow have known that the weather would be so unbearably and unseasonably (for the time of year, anyway) hot.  Somehow, we managed not to bite each other’s heads off and decided that putting up the tent was out of the question. Instead, we headed to catch the shuttle bus through the park to hike the Emerald Pools.  (Just like my spreadsheet said: 6/25/15 Zion, Hike Emerald Pools 1-4 pm.)  I was in no mood to hike, but it seemed to be the only place where we might find some shade.  And though spending hours in the gift shop was an option, I’m not much of a “crowd” person and the gift shop really wasn’t that big.

Photo credit: http://turville-photo.com/Resources/EmeraldPoolMini.jpg?55

Thankfully, once we joined the trail, temperatures immediately dropped in the shade and, though we were still sweating, it was no longer intolerably uncomfortable.  We reach the Lower Pool after about an hour or so (it was a slow hike), and were surprised by how empty it seemed.  Where was my gleaming pool that I was itching to photograph?  It was supposed to look like this —>

It was underwhelming to say the least…but oh, right, there’s that little thing called evaporation that happens when it’s hotter than hell out.  What I didn’t realize before coming to Zion was that what I actually wanted to see and believed I would see at the Emerald Pools  was this (below): 

(Photo credit: http://www.harrylichtman.com/imgs/gallery/17160/17160_9190466484ee17517119ea.jpg & Photo Credit: http://zuzog.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/80ec1fffa646c411111fe84b1d457da1.jpg)

Oh, I’d seen the photos and I couldn’t wait to see it in person.  But, I didn’t do enough research into where exactly these particular Emerald Pools were located.  These bad boys aren’t on the Emerald Pool trail at all.  They’re on the Subway.  That’s right.  The Subway.  (Because that’s just where gorgeous, natural, emerald-colored pools always are, right?)  A 9.5 mile hike requiring 7 hours, rappelling skills, and one of 80 permits issued by the park per day – none of which I had.  Well then.

But no disappointment lasts long in any national park.  Our trail back led us to these cuties, and I managed to get at least one worthy landscape shot (of the trickle that barely flowed).

One thing we noticed in Zion, and even in the previous parks before, was that wildlife didn’t seem to be intimidated by humans at all.  Sure, if you got too close, they’d take off, but most of the time you could walk right by and you’d get an ear flick or a tail swish as acknowledgement.  It was like living in a Disney film.  (I wonder what would have happened if I’d broken out in song…  Ah, well.  Too damn hot to try.)

When we reach our campground again, the site was still blazing hot.  Dinner?  You bet – someplace air conditioned, please.  We ended up stopping at Flanigan’s Spotted Dog Cafe just outside the park.  Once inside, the decor indicated that perhaps we were a bit underdressed (and undoubtedly wearing more sweat stains than necessary), but other patrons were similarly dressed and the hostess greeted us warmly.  The menu looked fabulous and made me believe that this restaurant was really quite out of place.  But, thank goodness.  Air conditioning AND real food!  It’s a minor miracle.  For Nate – filet mignon.  For me – pasta “purses” – homemade ravioli made from pear and ricotta and quite out of this world.  If I ever end up on death-row (for a crime I didn’t commit, naturally), please note that I choose pasta purses from Flanigan’s to be my final meal.  The view from our table (in the air conditioned cafe – did I mention that it was air conditioned?) was nothing short of spectacular.

By the time we left the cafe, the sun was near setting, but not down yet. I came up with the brilliant idea of — shopping!  Off we went for a few necessities, a few souvenirs, and by the time we returned to the camp- ground, the sun was finally off the site.  Oh, but it wasn’t so simple. Once we had the tent set up, the sand continued to bake us through the floor of the tent and the insulating layers we used as cushioning all night long.  It was like sleeping on an electric blanket set to high heat. Great in the wintertime.  Not so great when all you want to do is cool off!

Regardless we finally managed to get some rest…

…Until about 2 am.  Ridiculous wind gusts we never could have imagined made the windows of the tent (which had remained open for air flow in our little oven) flap like an entire flock of birds.  Raging nylon from every direction!  We managed to secure everything down quickly and settle in again.

But now my mind was awake and turning.  “I wonder what the sky looks like right now…”  Finally, I gave in to the impulse, set up the camera and unzipped the tent.

Wow.  Glad I did.

So, sometimes, my friends, when the wind wakes you up in the middle of the night, there’s a reason.  You just have to figure it out.  (This same reasoning does not apply to infants and toddlers, by the way.  There is no way to figure that out.  Ever.)

Yep, hot stuff alright.  Definitely visit Zion National Park.  In the spring.  Or the fall.  Or good God, any season but summer.

Here We Go…To Kansas

/ L. Ryan Storms / Leave a comment

Original Post: July 21, 2015

In the beginning of the trip, I would take a photo of our next destination  from wherever we were when we started that day.  This habit didn’t last long…

It should come as no surprise to anyone that Kansas was not on my hotspot list.  I mean, other than Dorothy, who have you ever known to actually WANT to go to Kansas?  (I think even Toto would have opted out if he’d been given the chance, but dammit…Dorothy just had to ask “Toto, too?”  Poor dog.  He not only came from Kansas, but he had to go back!)

Shortly, before we left for vacation, I had taken a quiz on one of those ridiculous internet sites to see which state I should live in, as if answering 15 questions online could actually be a legitimate determining factor in where I’ll hang my hat.  And the result – you guessed it – was Kansas.  How on earth I could answer that I loved the ocean and still get a state smack-dab in the middle of the country as a result was beyond me.  The last thing I’d want to do is end up in any part of “Tornado Alley.”

I believe my exact words just a few days before we left were, “If I thought I could actually make it from St. Louis to Aspen in a single drive without going insane, I would definitely try.  But since we need to sleep at some point, Kansas it is.”

The drive through eastern Kansas provided endless views of slow rolling hills that eventually flattened into plains that went on for miles.  By the time we reached western Kansas, we’d seen more corn and more oil pumps than I had realized could exist in one state.  Our only saving grace?  The time of year we chose to travel.  Had we booked our trip just a few months later, those miles of landscape (though long and unchanging) would not have been visible at all.  Instead, higher and heartier corn would have meant stunning views of – wait for it – corn.  For 9 hours.  Corn and sky.  Thank goodness for June.

I was a bit hesitant when we stopped at a rest area and found a piece of molted snake skin.  I guess I hadn’t really thought I’d see any snakes.  Did I know they were out there?  Sure, the same as I knew rattlesnakes inhabited Hawk Mountain in our part of Pennsylvania, but since I don’t encounter evidence of their existence 99% of the time, I can keep them filed away in the “imaginary monster” files of my mind.  Suddenly, they had become much more real.

This surely came from the belly of a fairly good-sized snake.  Glad I didn’t get a chance to meet him.

When we finally arrived at Cedar Bluff State Park, I was impressed.  I had not expected to be at all intrigued with this strange land in the middle of the country, but there was actually a serene beauty in that tall grass which swayed like waves in the wind.  And wind there was.  With no mountains or tree lines to block it, the wind was constant.  I would be the last person to complain, however, since it meant we had some relief from the 102 degree heatwave.

We checked into our cabin, aptly named The Jumpin’ Catfish.  (Yes, I’d had Nate in mind when I booked that one.)  It was adorable.  From top to bottom, it was cute as can be – and covered with walking stick bugs (on the outside…not in – thank goodness!).  Funny how some bugs can creep you out completely and others are, for lack of a better word, cute.  Walking sticks definitely fall into the latter category.  So, if you happen to stop in Kansas and need a place to stay, Cedar Bluff State Park is it.  A great camp!

Nate fished the reservoir (of course) and we both enjoyed spending the evening on the porch of our cabin, watching the sun set and the lightning bugs buzz through the grass.  Perhaps the most memorable part of Kansas was the incredible birdsong.  I have never heard birds sing like the ones we heard there and it just added to the serenity that was the prairie.  If I didn’t know that tornadoes frequent the state every year, I could have contemplated buying a little cabin of our own in the area. Birdsong aside, I think I’ll pass.

We spent the evening experimenting with our cameras and scopes, practicing for the nights we knew we wanted to get some great dark sky shots, and despite the lack of geographical contrast to use against the sky, we got some pretty decent photos.

We headed to bed fairly early, knowing that we’d be up early and on the road to the “real” vacation tomorrow.  (Are you sensing a pattern, yet?)  Aspen, Colorado and Maroon Bells-Snowmass Wilderness.  Finally, a change in landscape!  

And we survived Kansas.  Nary a tornado in sight.