The Third Sunday Drive, Day Seven: Grand Teton and Yellowstone

To market, to market to buy a fat hog
Home again, home again jiggity jog!
--Nursery Rhyme

(I bet you thought I wouldn't find a youtube video for this.  You'd be wrong.  There are dozens of youtube videos for this nursery rhyme, but I'm not going to link to any of them.  They're all sickeningly sweet, imho.)

The Cowboy Cafe in Dubois serves a fine breakfast and is very popular.  The popularity may be due to the fact that there are few choices available.  And while it was possible to eat outside at a sidewalk table, we chose a table indoors, one that we shared with other guests.  Then to fill up the Saab's gas tank where we learned that BankofAmerica had finally, one week late, caught on to the fact that my debit card wasn't being used in Plains, Montana, so froze the account.  Really BofA, do I have to tell you every time I leave home?

 

Pinnacle Buttes (I think) near Brooks Lake, Wyoming

It's 65 miles from Dubois to Colter Bay Village in Grand Teton National Park, and the scenery along US 287 is stunning.  We pulled off a few times to snap some pictures, but just before noon we stopped to buy some supplies in the park.  The visitor center at Colter Bay is quite different from the ones I'm used to seeing in Glacier, Yosemite, or even Yellowstone next door.  There is a sign noting how the design of the building marked a "New Era."

The Jackson Lake Lodge introduced a new standard for national park architecture in the 1950s.  This building marked the transition in national parks from rustic to modern design.  Famed architect Gilbert Stanley Underwood revolutionized park architecture by combining modern materials with rustic accents, such as the wood grain-textured concrete seen on this building.

 Frankly, I prefer the old era, but I have to admit that the windows of the lodge offer quite a view--and since the whole western wall is glass, you get the complete panorama of the Teton Range and Jackson Lake, just outside the building.

 Jackson Lake and the Teton Range

Colter Bay Village, Wyoming

Just north of Grand Teton, the John D. Rockefeller Jr. Parkway crosses into Yellowstone National Park.  In my experience, September is a great time to visit Yellowstone.  The kids are back in school, and you're competing with grandpa and grandma and their Winnebago for space.  This year was not that way.  While we didn't see a lot of kids, there were cars (and people) everywhere.  I don't recall ever seeing so many people at Old Faithful, and the parking lots at the different geyser basins were so full that I didn't bother even trying to get off the highway.  But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The Teton Range through the trees

Grand Teton National Park, Wyoming

I found it hard to get a clear photo of the Yellowstone National Park sign, so many people were attempting the shot at the same time.  Most of them were in couples, and had to take a shot with one or the other hanging on the sign.   At Lewis Falls, we pulled into the only open space I found and then battled the traffic to get a good shot of the 30' fall on the Lewis River.  At Yellowstone Lake, we drove around the parking lot several times before we found a place to park and have a late lunch.  Old Faithful's parking lot was similarly packed, but we were able to find a spot, park the car, and hike over to the viewing area just in time to catch the performance. 

Obligatory Old Faithful Shot

Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming

Back in the car and headed north, I hated to drive by the Fountain Paint Pots, one of my favorite areas in the park, but the lot was jam-packed and people were parking along the roadway.  At this point, I was in my "Let's just get home" mode, and didn't care to deal with all the tourists.  At Madison Junction we turned west toward West Yellowstone, and about half-way along that road we once again found a spot where the roadside was clogged with parked cars.  Looking out the window, we saw a cow elk across the Madison River, and shortly thereafter found a place to pull the Saab off the road.  Who am I to turn down such a potential shot?  The cow was attractive, but once out of the car I saw that a lot of folk were gathered up ahead on our side of the river.  As I got closer, I saw a bull elk grazing, seemingly oblivious to the folk who were crowding around him.  This seemed like a disaster waiting to happen, and I have better sense than to stick my camera in a bull elk's face, but that's what telephoto lenses are for, right?  John and I climbed back into the car and were able to catch the guy from a safe distance.  Best shot I've ever taken of such a magnificent creature.

Bull Elk on the Madison River

Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming

Before we knew it, we were out of the park, through West Yellowstone, and heading north toward Bozeman.  The elk was the last shot I took that day, and after dinner in Belgrade, we hit I-90 for home.  Alas, the day got to me, and the weather was turning nasty.  Rather than risk driving through the Hellgate Canyon in the dark battling a major storm, we stopped for the night in Deer Lodge.  The next day we continued on to Missoula, then finally to Plains, stopping only to take some shots of graffiti covered boxcars at Clinton.  The art was impressive, but so pornographic that I won't show it here.  Suffice it to say that by 2 p.m. we were home in Plains, having driven a total of 3,659 miles and having taken some 468 photos in ten states.  A very enjoyable Sunday Drive.

Oh, and the nursery rhyme with which I opened this post?  Once home I learned that Kevin had gone to the Sanders County Fair and bought not one but two fat hogs from the 4-H kids--meat that now resides in our freezer.

The Third Sunday Drive, Day Six: Rocky Mountain High

Now his life is full of wonder but his heart still knows some fear
Of a simple thing he cannot comprehend
Why they try to tear the mountains down to bring in a couple more
More people, more scars upon the land
 --John Denver

 To hear John Denver sing Rocky Mountain High, click on the link.  The verse above seems particularly apt given the devastation that the rain and floods caused just five days after we passed through Larimer County.

Also, remember that clicking on photos or links will open a new window.  In the case of my photos, you will be able to see them full screen once you've clicked on the images below.

After checking out of our motel in Limon, we headed across the parking lot for some good, carb rich breakfast food at IHOP.  At 8:45 a.m., we were back on the road heading west on I-70, with the next planned stop somewhere north of Denver where we'd fill the Saab's tank.  Instead, we exited the Interstate at Exit 336, where by (Elbert) County Road 178 we found an abandoned farm.  I believe it's for sale, if anyone wants to take on a project, and what a project it would be. 

Colorado Fixer Upper

Exit 336, I-70

By a quarter after ten, we were on I-25 north of Denver heading toward Cheyenne.  The Saab's tank was full, and I felt we were making good time.  Nancy and Dick (my onboard navigation systems) wanted me to continue north on 25 then west on 80, but I had a different route in mind.  Turning off the Interstate at Fort Collins, we wound our way through the backside of that city following signs to US 287.  287 is a good highway that climbs through the foothills, crossing into Wyoming south of Laramie.  Once out of the metropolitan area, we made two stops, first at Livermore, which seemed to be nothing more than a convenience store/restaurant/bar.  While John used the facilities, I wandered around the parking lot and found that the road taking off behind me was Jackass Road.  (I have a picture of the sign, in case you don't believe me.)  Livermore may not be much to look at, but it does have a Wikipedia entry and a zip code.    A few miles further and we climbed through a cut in the rock which seemed most photogenic.  Hey, I'm driving, I get to say where we stop and shoot, right?  I didn't think much about the sky at the time, but looking at the pictures now, those clouds do seem to be foretelling the torrential rains that devastated this part of Colorado just a few days later.  The picture below was taken on September 4.  The flooding began on the 9th.

Threatening clouds northwest of Fort Collins

Mile 386 on Colorado's US 287

Passing the sign that promised "Forever West," we entered Wyoming with the thought of having lunch in Laramie.  After stopping to add the Albany County Courthouse to my photo albums, we relied on Yelp to find lunch, and that app directed us to a small restaurant facing the railroad tracks in the midst of several second hand stores.  Who know that here in the heart of beef country, we'd find a Vegan restaurant as good as Sweet Melissa's.  The food was inspired and our waiter was cute and very attentive.  Hmm.   By 2 p.m., we were back on the road, this time on I-80, heading west toward Rawlins.

Located almost dead center as you drive across Wyoming east to west, Rawlins is a tidy small city of just under 10,000 residents.  It is the seat of Carbon County, and the home of the original Wyoming State Penitentiary.  Lots of beautiful buildings caught my attention (and my camera's eye) downtown, including St. Joseph's Catholic Church, the Carbon County Courthouse, the Masonic Temple--a lovely sandstone structure, and, of course, the old prison.  I certainly wouldn't mind staying at the Ferris Mansion Bed & Breakfast, either.

The Ferris Mansion Bed & Breakfast

Rawlins, Wyoming

The highway signs leading us out of Rawlins were confusing to say the least, but we soon found ourselves back on US 287 heading toward Lander.  Along the way, we stopped in Jeffrey City, which I remembered from my old days when I was involved in Methodist Church stuff.  Jeffrey City was the southern most parish in the Yellowstone Conference back in the 1970s.  Today, the town is largely a twentieth century ghost town, with several cheaply built apartment buildings waiting to fall down in the wind, and most businesses closed and shuttered.  The town started out in the 1930s as Home on the Range, Wyoming, but was renamed Jeffrey City in 1957 when the Western Nuclear Corporation opened a uranium mine in the area--a venture funded by a Rawlins physician named, what else, Dr. C.W. Jeffrey.  Thousands of people moved to the area, and Western Nuclear built a company town to house them.  The 2010 census counted 58 people still living there, and I looked in vain for a Methodist Church to shoot.  There was a large country church on a hillside just east of town, but when I got there, I found it was Southern Baptist.  One block really caught my eye.  Just a block off the highway, I counted a half-dozen old Mack trucks parked, and one Ford COE (cab over engine) tow truck.  I don't know that it's the tow truck seen in this youtube video, but it could be that truck's brother.

1951 Ford F6 COE Tow Truck

Jeffrey City, Wyoming

Jeffrey City notwithstanding, there's a lot of empty land between Rawlins and Lander, a highway distance of 125 miles.  Beautiful scenery, if you like that sort of thing, but don't count on finding food or gas along the way.  While we arrived in Lander at 6 p.m., it wasn't until 7 that we found ourselves at El Sol de Mexico, again thanks to Yelp.  It wasn't hard getting a table, but once we were seated, I think the wait staff completely forgot we were there.  The restaurant was a popular place, and people just kept on coming, pausing once inside to greet their friends, then on to their tables where, I swear, they were served before the waiter even remembered we were there.  And since I'm bitching about the service, I have to admit that John really enjoyed his dinner.  I found mine mediocre at best.  I guess the reason I'm still so upset about the service is that I trust Yelp.  Nearly every Yelp review of El Sol mentioned the speedy service.  My mileage definitely varied.  While we're still in Lander, I must say that I love the city's website and their slogan "Real. Western. Spirit."  Yep, three words, three periods. 

Central Wyoming Landscape

Along US 287, Fremont County, Wyoming

I didn't want to risk getting to Moran in Grand Teton National Park only to find that our only option for sleeping was going to set us back a couple of hundred bucks, so we stopped at the next best thing, Dubois.  Roughly half way between Lander and the Park, Dubois bills itself as a real western town, or to quote the town's website, "Where real cowboys work and play."  Now that's saying something in a state that calls itself "The Cowboy State."  I guess all the rest of them cowpokes are just amateurs.  The Dubois Super 8 was one of the more expensive Super 8s I've visited, but the beds were comfortable and we were glad to call it a night.

Miles driven:  518 across Colorado and Wyoming.  Photos taken:  57.

The Third Sunday Drive, Day Five: Kansas

I am a lineman for the county
And I drive the main road
Searchin' in the sun for another overload

I hear you singin' in the wire
I can hear you through the whine
And the Wichita Lineman is still on the line

--Jimmy Web (sung by Glen Campbell)

The Sedgwick County Courthouse

Wichita, Kansas

John had some business to finish before he could leave Wichita, so we spent the morning driving around Kansas' largest city, and the seat of Sedgwick County.  One of his appointments was at a building built on the banks of the Arkansas River, and I spent my waiting time out with my camera, until the angry homeless people in the area drove me back to the safety of my locked car.  I missed getting any river shots, or shots of the eagles flying over the river.  In fact, I missed getting any shots at all in this city of 400,000 people, with the exception of the county court house, seen above.  After lunch at a local burger bar, Spangles, where I had one of the best gyros I've ever had, we headed north out of town on I-135 toward Salina, where we would catch I-70 and drive west into Colorado.  With the exception of the city streets of Wichita, all my Kansas driving would be on interstate highways, a decision I don't regret as frankly, I didn't see all that much of interest in the landscape.

Abandoned farm along I-70 

West of Salina, Kansas

(Note the TV antenna)

We did, however, see many fascinating buildings as we drove along, and I made several stops in towns along the road, even pulling over on the side of I-70 to take some photos of an abandoned farm.  The first town we visited, stretching our legs and snapping photos, was Bunker Hill, a town of less than 100 residents in Russell County.  The town was founded by a group of people from Ohio, and one building I photographed had a large sign which didn't say a word about the building itself, but went on at length about Mother Bickerdyke who was born in 1817 in Knox County, Ohio--the same county where my great-great grandfather lived and was married.  There's a considerable amount of information about this remarkable woman on-line, and you can start by reading what Kansapedia has to say if you click on her name, above.

They don't build 'em like that any more

Bunker Hill, Kansas

Bunker Hill served as the first seat of Russell County, but in the late 1800s, the seat moved to the town of Russell, some seven miles west.  Many townspeople followed the government, and Bunker Hill ceased to grow.  Russell, on the other hand, seemed to be a thriving community.  I swear that while I was photographing the Russell County Court House, Jason Stackhouse got out of the car next to us to enter the building.  Other buildings I photographed while in Russell were Trinity United Methodist Church (regular readers will know how much I love photographing Methodist Churches), and the Fossil Station Museum.  While, apparently, there are fossils to be found in the museum, the name comes from the fact that Russell was originally called Fossil Station, and the museum is more of the small town history and genealogy type than an archeological treasure trove.  One special note is that this town of approximately 4,500 people is the home town of two US Senators, Bob Dole and Arlen Specter. 

Fossil Station Museum

Russell, Kansas

Just west of Russell, across the Ellis County line, we saw a large structure beckoning us to leave the interstate and drive into the town of Victoria.  The town was founded in 1873 by English and Scottish settlers, including George Grant, the man considered responsible for introducing Aberdeen Angus cattle to the U.S.  These early settlers named the town for Queen Victoria, but they didn't stay long in the area.  A group of Volga Germans settled in the area in 1876, bringing their Roman Catholic faith with them.  In time, they built St. Fidelis Church in Victoria.  Built between 1908 and 1911, the church seats 1100 parishioners and was the largest church west of the Mississippi at the time of its dedication.  Although it is not the home to a bishop, and therefore not, techically speaking, a cathedral, William Jennings Bryant called it "The Cathedral of the Plains" when he visited the area in 1912.  With twin towers reaching 141 feet high, the church can easily be seen from miles away on Interstate 70.

St. Fidelis R.C. Church

The Cathedral of the Plains

Victoria, Kansas

On a side note:  The Volga Germans settled in a community they named Herzog in honor of their Volga River hometown.  Herzog, Kansas was located a few miles north of Victoria.  As the English and Scottish residents left the area and the Germans became more numerous, Herzog grew to encompass Victoria.  For some reason, they decided to take the English name and in 1913 Herzog was officially renamed Victoria.

Back on the highway, we bypassed whatever wonders Hays had to offer, and drove on out of Kansas into Colorado.  The last several miles of I-70 in Kansas were a construction zone, so once again I missed photographing any "Welcome to Kansas" sign that might be present.  Kansas now joins Georgia as one of the only two states I've driven through in the last half-dozen years where I've not been able to photograph the entry sign.

We pulled off the road in Burlington, Colorado, the seat of Kit Carson County.  While I tried to photograph the court house, it was getting late enough in the day that the light just didn't allow for a good shot.  Dinner, on the other hand, was wonderful.  Relying once again on Yelp, we stopped at a Thai Restaurant, Chen Vuong Thai,  and ate way too much excellent food.

It was completely dark by the time we approached Limon, Colorado.  To the north we saw row upon row of bright red lights, stretching for miles across the prairie. Now I've been told that Denver International Airport is practically in Nebraska, but really, this seemed a bit far out of town for that.  The clerk at our motel couldn't tell me what we'd seen, but by light of the next morning, it was obviously an enormous wind farm with the towers lit for the safety of any low-flying craft.

All told, we drove a total of  468 miles and took 142 photographs on this day after Labor Day.