Mostly Clear, 64° F
When last we looked in on the Moseleys, Steve and Good Wife Norma were scurrying to and fro, packing for yet another return to Yellowstone Country.
That journey of 2,000-plus miles in the …
This item is available in full to subscribers.
The Powell Tribune has expanded its online content. To continue reading, you will need to either log in to your subscriber account, or purchase a subscription.
If you are a current print subscriber, you can set up a free web account by clicking here.
If you already have a web account, but need to reset it, you can do so by clicking here.
If you would like to purchase a subscription click here.
Please log in to continue |
|
When last we looked in on the Moseleys, Steve and Good Wife Norma were scurrying to and fro, packing for yet another return to Yellowstone Country.
That journey of 2,000-plus miles in the (mostly) trusty ’99 Burb with the RSTBUKT license plates is now complete. We made it back to the barren plain of New-Brass-Key relatively intact.
One wonders if perhaps a debriefing is in order.
The first leg of the journey was to run from home in York to Sheridan in one hop on a Wednesday. A picnic lunch under the trees at peaceful Ayers Natural Bridge just west of the interstate south of Casper was, once again, a refreshing respite from the hours of hindparts highway blight. Our guests had never been there and were predictably swept away by this almost spiritual little oasis hidden away beneath the high desert sagebrush and speed goat plain of Wyoming.
Donn Atchison is a friend for years and a fellow shutter bug. His wife, Cyndi, is a youth gymnastics guru who loves adventures in new places. Both were surprised and delighted when we dropped into this beautiful canyon with the babbling creek. Every time we visit, GWN and I are surprised all over again that it’s really there.
Donn gobbled a sandwich, then set off with his camera. The result was many great images of this photogenic park. If you’ve not been there, shame on you. It is a well-signed, short drive of 5 or 6 miles from I-25. Just be sure to let Fido or Kitty Kat out for a potty break before you enter the park. Pets must remain in vehicles at all times and they mean it.
From there it was on to Sheridan for a comfy night at the Mill Inn which we highly recommend. We have stayed there many times in the 20-ish years since our reluctant departure from Powell with nary a bad experience; always nice folks to deal with, a fair price and a clean room with everything you need to relax.
After complimentary breakfast at the Mill, we booked it over the Bighorns early, hoping to maybe catch a moose or elk out in the open. No such luck. We suspect it was still hunting season.
On to Powell for a quick rendezvous with the gang at the Trib, then up the hill to the cabin we were privileged to inhabit the next three nights.
Lower Loop Friday. Upper Loop Saturday. Out the Northeast Gate to Cooke City and over the Beartooths to Red Lodge on Sunday for a nice meal and a bunk at the Pollard Hotel.
The only Yellowstone hiccup was the heartbreak of being told the entire Lake Hotel, including the classy dining room, shut down early this year to accommodate installation of an expansive new kitchen. Arrggghhh!
The breakfast buffet overlooking the lake is beloved to me. Missing out on it this trip will, all by itself, guarantee our return another day.
Monday morning after breakfast at the Pollard, the ladies hit a few shops on a perfunctory strike of Red Lodge before the RSTBUKT departed for a drive up Clark’s Fork Canyon, one of our favorite haunts back in the day, en route to cruise the sidewalks of downtown Cody (Donn and I did not depart the Burb). Then it was on to Powell to check into our rooms with Rick at the Lamplighter and, later, a magnificent meal at his steakhouse.
Tuesday our mountain safari ended with a thud when we loaded up and booked it from Powell to York in one 797.9-mile blitzkrieg. Google makes driving time 12 hours … however that does not account for stops to load up on a whole lot of gas (Burb gets roundabout 16 mpg on its best day) and a little grub. Plus, because all your clocks are wrong, we had to give back that hour we gained on the way out.
Wildlife photo ops were underwhelming, but weather was great save for a little rain one morning at the cabin and even that was refreshing. Seemed to water down and dilute the lingering haze of smoke.
All in all we had great fun, although next time we’ll try springtime when wild babies are dropping all over the park and the touron rush has yet to reach its inevitable crescendo.
