Day 4 - Yellowstone (557 km)

As I write this, I am sitting in a motel in Greybull, Wyoming. It has been a long, long day. 'Dinner' for Colin was a hotdog and a bag of Doritos from a gas station. For me, it was 'chef's salad'. Yes, from the same gas station. I couldn't eat it all, but I believe the ingredients were lettuce, cherry tomatoes, a boiled egg, some shredded cheese-like substance, some diced ham... or maybe SPAM... and something I couldn't decide - maybe chicken, maybe tuna, maybe none of the above. Do they make SPICKEN?

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

We left Butte shortly after the free Best Western breakfast, which proved to be the culinary highlight of the day. Colin, I could tell, was thinking about Glenda. I'm sure he was thinking of her, too, as we mounted our bikes and set off eastward on the I-90, especially as we were stuck in a long line of slow moving vehicles. All I could think was how much I wanted to duck into the lane that was closed, ostensibly for construction, although there was none in progress. But Colin, I'm sure, just thought: Glenda, Glenda, Glenda.
  

Glenda

(The things I do to keep my audience happy!)

At any rate, we meandered around Southeastern Montana, past farms filled with the oxidized skeletal remains of disused tractors, until we arrived at Yellowstone shortly before noon. Shortly after entering our second National Park of this tour, we also entered our fourth state, Wyoming. Neither Colin nor I have ever been in Wyoming before, and I have to say it made a very good first impression.

After a short ride through the park we arrived at our first set of geysers, which are, aside from wildlife, what the park is famous for. (I was very disappointed not to encounter any nattily dressed bears in search of pic-a-nic baskets, and think I will have to write to whichever congressman is appropriate to express my displeasure.)

Anyway, the geysers, which introduced themselves olfactorily before coming into view, with a not-so-faint sulfuric scent. None of these was 'Old Faithful', but they were pretty cool. The pictures I took really don't do them justice.

After stopping to admire these geophysical oddities, we decided to go see the big kahuna itself, Old Faithful. It was another 16 miles down the road to the parking lot, the Lodge, Cafeteria, Visitors' Centre, Gift Shop and General Store. (All without seeming tacky. Well, almost.) We couldn't get over the number of people there on a weekday!

By the time we got close to Old Faithful, she'd stopped spouting. It would be a little over an hour before she started up again, so we went to see about lunch. This was not so much a mistake as a disappointment. It was utterly unmemorable, in the way airplane food has become. And it cost almost as much. A turkey sandwich and a coffee came to $9.26.

On the plus side, I did get another sticker for my luggage. Interestingly, they didn't have any at the Visitors' Centre shop, but they directed me to the souvenir shop beside the General Store. It looks swanky on my side case.

The weather was beginning to turn - it has been phenomenal up to this point - and we decided the best thing was to make for the highway. It didn't take long before we were forced to pull over and put on our rain gear. I may look dorky in it, but it keeps me dry! (Except my feet... I may look for a pair of riding boots while I'm down here.)

After a relatively short distance, we came upon a bison grazing at the side of the road (or a buffalo, I'm not sure which - and in fact, it's never been clear to me what the difference is, so if you know please comment.) We didn't dare to get too close, as they're faster than they look.

We rode on through the park, through the aftermath of a forest fire, which I suspect was a control burn. Dead trunks once again leaning at odd angles, stripped of bark and leaves, the life sucked out of them by the sudden heat.

Eventually we emerged into what is some of of the most spectacular scenery I've ever found myself in. Enormous, copper, rocky bluffs erupt out of the ground, sheer cliffs towering over rivers and valleys. It was awe inspiring. We had to stop to take it in, take some pictures - and take off our rain gear, because now it was sunny again, and pleasantly warm.

We continued on for a while along Hwy 20/14/16 (they couldn't choose one, I guess), until Colin's GPS started taking us down country roads, past farms with horses and cattle grazing, and deer jumping fences dangerously from the ditch at the roadside into a field.

The clouds to the South began to look menacing again, and the Garmin kept taking us off the main roads, until eventually we ended up on a gravel road that, when we checked, would have run for several dozen miles before connecting us to the highway again. Adventure's all fine and good, but with night falling and the clouds threatening, turning back seemed a better option.

And so here we are. In a motel I won't name because a) I can't remember the name, and b) I might say something they'd sue me over. Needless to say, we'll be glad to see ourselves out of Graybull in the morning. I think we might hold off on breakfast till we reach a different town.

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For those of you who liked the previous video, here's the one Colin put together commemorate yesterday's ride on the Going-to-the-Sun-Road. Enjoy!