Windmills in a dark sy.
From Colorado, we drove north into Wyoming, with the Grand Tetons as our destination. Our friends in Colorado had warned us that Wyoming was known for its strong winds, and sure enough, the wind kept us gripping the wheel as we drove west on I-80. By the time we got to Rock Springs we were beat, and the sky was deep purple with an approaching storm. We took refuge for the night in a Walmart parking lot, along with several semis and other RVs. When the storm came through, Bessie rocked so hard with the wind she knocked us about inside. But afterwards, the sky presented a magnificent double rainbow as a parting apology.
Walmart rainbow.
The weather report promised even stronger winds the next day starting at 11:00, so I wanted to get a really early start. Kate doesn’t do early, so I offered to drive while she slept in bed – a luxury we’ve both often thought about but haven’t actually done. So we hit the road at 6:30 a.m., a new record for us, with Kate snuggled in bed with a thermos of coffee ready for her when she woke. The road was flat and deserted and the wind wasn’t bad at all, so it was an easy solo drive.
Moose!!
Kneeling moose.
Kate had just gotten herself up and was sitting in the passenger seat when we drove through the cute little town of Pinedale. As we drove by a beautiful, green riverside park, we both did a double-take. “What was that?” I asked. It had looked like a giant statue of a kneeling moose, but Kate confirmed it was no statue. Fortunately, the park had plenty of room to park Bessie, so we pulled right over, and I leapt out with my camera.
Taking chances.
There were two moose, actually, and they were kneeling on their front legs, nibbling the thick fresh-cut spring lawn in the park. I edged myself as close as I could with my 300 mm zoom lens and snapped away. I’ve read the warnings about approaching wildlife, and I was trying my best to exude non-threatening energy, but I think I pushed the 25 yard limit a little bit. They didn’t appear perturbed by my presence, though. And when they eyed me, I backed off slowly.
All last summer and fall, when we were in the northern regions of the U.S. and in Canada, we saw hundreds of moose warning signs, and each time we sat upright, eagerly scanning area in hopes of a sighting. But not once did we see one. We were so excited to finally see not one but two. And not just a roadside glimpse, but a close encounter and photo op. We stayed and watched them for some time before we hit the road again, elated.
Jackson
Antler welcome.
When we arrived in Jackson, it was snowing. We found a place to park Bessie and went to Persephone Bakery for breakfast. Kate had read on Yelp that it had the best breakfast in town, and it was packed with locals who all seemed to know each other. The food was delicious. I had croque madam, and Kate had a sweet potato and brussel sprout skillet. But it was so crowded and loud, I was on sensory overload after all our quiet time in the mountains. And Jackson locals are like a clique of yoga-toned and well-dressed new age cowboys. I felt scruffy and out-of-place in yesterday’s clothes and morning bed-head.
Cowboy hats.
We camped in the national park campground just north of Jackson and returned to the town the next day when the weather was better to explore it a bit. It’s a very cute cowboy style town, even if most of the stores are geared toward customers with deep pockets. We enjoyed window shopping and hanging out in the town square in the warming sunshine. We went to the Visitor Center and the adjacent park with dozens of geese and goslings. And we checked out the outdoor sculptures at the Wildlife Art Museum. Like so many places we’ve seen this year, this is a town I think I really would have clicked with about 50 years ago, before the influx of tour buses and the rich elite.