We took a trip up to the first National Park – Yellowstone, over Labor Day weekend. The drive from Denver to Cody, Wyoming where we stayed is ~450 miles. The trip north on I-25 is rather boring. Typical small Wyoming towns every 50 miles or so, with the ugly ass city of Casper on I-25 where you turn left towards Cody. Once you take the left turn on state highway 20/26 the scenery begins to change for the better. A two lane highway travels through some beautiful canyon lands surrounded by mountains and rugged outcroppings. Deer, rabbit and ravens are plentiful on this route. Use caution when driving after dark as deer and rabbit have a tendency to play suicidal games with oncoming traffic.
We made it to the cabin on the outskirts of Cody sometime around midnight. The cabin was located on Applejack Ranch, and run by a really welcoming and nice family. When I awoke the next morning and stepped out to enjoy my first cup, I was greeted by a one dog welcoming committee named Rooster. He bounded down the dirt lane, tongue hanging out, sporting a huge grin as if saying, “oh boy, lets play!”
We entered Yellowstone on the first day from the east entrance and then headed up through the northern section of the park. First stop was a boiling cauldron of sulfur and minerals oozing up through the ground. The earth’s crust is typically ~40 miles thick, but in Yellowstone it averages ~6 miles. We saw many buffalo, deer, ravens and geese. On the way back out we saw two wolves frolicking on the river bank about 2 miles away.
On the second day we stayed out of the park and in the stead drove up Chief Joseph highway towards Montana. Then onto the Beartooth road over the pass to Red Lodge, Montana. Beautiful! Mountain lakes, windy roads, sheer cliffs and high winds make for a spectacular drive and hike.
The third day it was back to Yellowstone for a tour of the southern section, plus a session at Old Faithful. Great scenery will blast your senses the entire trip. Old Faithful is very cool. When it finished a granny next to me said, “is that all?” I laughed. Not sure what she was expecting? Maybe a fly-over by the Blue Angels and some shitty country singer belting out ‘god bless America’?
We then exited via the southern egress point into Tetons National Forrest. Well worth the extra time back to Colorado. Yellowstone is a perfect example of what we as a nation can achieve if we set aside public lands for everyone’s enjoyment and keep the greed-heads, miners and corporations out. Go there and get lost.
More photos at FLICKR.
Amy and I went to Lake City, Co for a long weekend. Very beautiful town and surrounding mountains. The Alpine Circle is a wonderful, treacherous and stupendously beautiful drive. You need a 4-wheel drive vehicle or an off-road motorcycle, llamas, sturdy horse or foot travel to complete the circle. Some of the 40+ plus miles over two separate passes are “Jeep trails”/rocky outcroppings at best.
Fished some on San Cristobal lake. Stayed is a very nice cabin on the lake. Lake City is a great place from a historical and visual sense, but there are too many Texans about for my everyday tastes. The pros way more make up for the cons though. Definitely recommend this as a destination.
You may find more of my photographs from this are at this link pics.
Drove through the Avenue of the Giants north then south several days later. Wow.
This is by far my favorite everyday coffee. Great tasting blend of light and dark roasted beans. You can get it from Just Cofee and it benefits the only real progressive radio show out there Majority Report. Brew up a cup and let your leftyness shine.
The matador had a stuffed codpiece just like every other matador in this god-forsaken land. The bull rolled his eyes. “Fuck this shit” he thought to himself. Two weeks ago he was on a farm in Kentucky, eating grass and occasionally siring a calf. Life was good. Warm rain, endless fields of bluegrass, several acres of hot prime cow on the hoof at his beck and call. He was King Beef.
Then for some reason, probably because he was a god-damned bull, he gored someone’s precious little snowflake. Future date raper more like it. The little shit had it coming. The kid kept pulling on the bull’s tail. Then when the kid grabbed his balls and swung on them like a rope swing — I mean shit, who could put up with that? So, he gored the cantankerous little shit — didn’t kill him, but he wouldn’t skate or bike for the rest of his life. The little fucktard. Bull figured he would get the gun for sure, so he just got mean. He would charge at tractors in fields. He would run full steam up to anyone in the field, snorting and acting a fool. WTF, right? Might as well go out with some fun.
Oh, but fate is a fickle beast. Also factor in human greed and anything can happen. Especially when you belong to a farm run by an “enterprising” man who can see the dollar signs in almost any situation. Next thing the bull knew he was on an auction block. Bull figured that he would either end up in a rodeo or in some Texas school lunch tacos. Neither happened. He was put on an airplane and flown to Spain. Bullfights that is. The pain in Spain falls mainly on the bull. Stupid traditions and machismo is what meet a bull in Spain.
Bull watched the “Bull Fights” for several weeks from his stockade. He quickly learned that the term “Bull Fights” is full of “Bull Shit.” They aren’t fights as much as a ritual slaughter of the bull. The cowardly Spaniards would win every time and his time had come.
The picadors have stabbed him several times in the neck via horseback. Then the three banderilleros further weaken him by stabbing him more in the neck. He was having a hard time standing, but the roar of the idiot crowd cheering pissed him off and sent a surge of adrenaline through his system. He walks up to the matador who thinks that he is being clever by hiding a large dagger under his cape. Bull stops, snorts and says to the guy, “What. The. Fuck?” The moron matador just shakes his head and stares at bull like he’s never heard English before. Then in a flash it dawns on bull that he is in Spain. People are mean and dumb everywhere, and here they kill bulls for fun. Plus, he’s in SPAIN, the matador doesn’t even understand English! Bull sighs as the blade enters his brain-pan and the flowers of death rain down from the bullring stands.
I wrote this while sitting on a bar stool in Mexico. There was a bullfight on the teevee and it made me think what it would look like through the bull’s eyes. Bull fights are bullshit in my opinion.