Author: Easin' Along

Words barely describe the beauty of the area around Jackson, WY, and fail miserably when describing Yellowstone National Park. Therefore, this post will rely more on pictures than text to share our eight-day visit there. Hopefully, the photos will somewhat resemble the staggering beauty we encountered. We had a lot of fun on this visit, and I want to share some of those details because we had a grand time at the base of the Grand Tetons. Note: click on any image to enlarge

To begin with, our campsite at the Kudar RV Campground could not have been better. We were assigned a grassy, level site on the front lawn of the Kudar Motel with electric and water hookups. The Motel is a block and a half from the town square and one block from The Blue Lion, our favorite restaurant. With Lucy, now perfectly positioned to take advantage of everything this scenic area offers, we were ready to explore and enjoy.

Our son, Collin, and his family arrived a week ahead of us to spend some time with Austin’s (our daughter-in-law) family. Justin, Collin’s older brother, and his family came from California to join us. Once everyone settled in, we drove to meet Collin and crew at the lovely home rented by Austin’s Mom at the base of the Tetons. The picture at the top gives you the reader a glimpse of their view. Again, words can’t describe.

The first item on our list of events for the week was a trip through Yellowstone National Park. Justin was on a time crunch for this trip to Jackson, so we decided to spend an entire day exploring the Park. One day isn’t enough, but we made a run at it anyway. The weather on this day was not cooperative. The high temperature hovered around 39 degrees (July?), and spotty drizzle followed us for much of the morning.

Nevertheless, we marched ahead and visited West Thumb Geyser Basin with its colorful thermal pools; the Lower Falls; went wildlife watching; strolled through Grand Prismatic Spring, and stopped to let Old Faithful put on a show for us. With no tour busses and very few international travelers, the crowds were much lower than we had experienced on previous visits, and we lost little time in traffic or waiting in long lines. We had a lovely day, cold weather notwithstanding.

Justin and his family left with their trailer in tow and headed back to California by way of Zion National Park. We loved being with them and miss them greatly. Meanwhile, good fortune fell on Collin and me when his friend Jake invited us on a fishing trip in his new Drift boat. We would try our luck on the South Fork of the Snake River in Idaho. Our good fortune extended to the weather as well–the day was beautiful. Our success with a fly rod was not as good as our luck with the weather.

We launched near a small dam on the South Fork. There were several boats in front of us, and more arrived as we readied the boat. Fishing guides busied themselves by rigging fly rods for their clients while the clients waited in eager anticipation of hooking a Facebook-worthy trophy.

Jake, Collin, and I launched the boat on some swift water as a result of recent rains. The wind was strong, and, for the first few minutes, I was afraid we would be fishing in adverse conditions. After rounding a bend in the river, the wind turned in our favor, and we remained in calm winds for the remainder of this glorious day. There was little we could do about the fast water.

I hooked a sizable trout early during our trip and got it close enough to the boat to get my eyes on it, but as soon as the fish saw me, the fly shook loose, and my fish swam away with a sore lip. It was a while before I hooked another one–slightly smaller than the first, but this beautiful Rainbow fell victim to Jake’s net. That was the only trout taken, although Collin hooked several and landed four Whiting. All agreed that we were only out for the trip and the scenery. On that score, we faired well. 

The Fourth of July would be a little different in Jackson due to the COVID pandemic. City officials canceled the annual parade, disappointing many locals and tourists. Three firework demonstrations would take place simultaneously at different locations to disperse the crowds, and the one scheduled for Snow King Mountain would occur entirely within our view…almost across the street from us.

The show would start at 10:00 pm. Helen warmed up for it by hitting pickleball with our granddaughters. The fireworks were outstanding. The grandkids, as well as us big kids, loved every minute. I had my tripod set up, attached a remote shutter to my camera, and fired at will. The best shot is pictured here.

 

 

On July 5th, we packed up and drove through Yellowstone to the charming town of West Yellowstone, MT, our home for the next nine days. Our route took us by Yellowstone Lake as well as a few Bison grazing beside the road. Words can’t describe (there I go again) our time in Jackson Hole, but…it was time to be Easin’ Along. Thanks for joining us. See you next week.

 

After our stop in Custer, WY, Mt. Rushmore, and the Badlands, the rest of our convoy moved on to Jackson Hole while Helen and I traveled to a lovely campground on the Wind River in Dubois, (pronounced Doo-Boy) WY. This four-day visit allowed our kids and grandkids some time with Austin’s (daughter-in-law) family at the base of the Grand Tetons before we arrived.

I love Jackson Hole, but I have no regrets whatsoever about stopping in Duboise. Our campsite backed right up to the Wind River and afforded a fantastic view of both the River and the Wind River Range. We parked Lucy under some large shade trees, pulled out the lawn chairs, and settled in. The only drawback is that the large shade trees are Cottonwoods–wreaked havoc with my allergies–but, that’s a minor detail.

 

Day two in Duboise offered spotty showers and the perfect day to explore downtown Duboise, a tiny village reminiscent of Townsend, Tennessee, in the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains. The first stop in Duboise was the local Thrift Shop, an activity Helen and I LOVE to do when visiting small towns. This extremely organized shop offered extensive selections of housewares, electronics, and clothing. I found a barely used Gerry Jacket for $15 that I needed because I did not pack a warm coat for the trip. Helen found a pair of Merrill Hiking Boots in her size, also $15. We left happy.

 

Next up was a visit to the Big Horn Sheep Interpretive Center at the edge of town. The area around Duboise serves as a refuge for Big Horn Sheep when they come down from the mountains in the winter. The Center features some excellent displays, although no live Big Horns live on the property.

Day three was a bit rainy as well, so we spent time giving Lucy a thorough cleaning, and Helen worked her magic, getting the cabinets and drawers organized. She did her usual outstanding job and even gave me an orientation after the task was complete. Now I know where everything is–and where I return stuff when finished with said stuff…or else.

On the final day in the area, we drove a short distance to the Whiskey Mountain Basin, the location of the Big Horn Refuge. The staff at the Interpretive Center told us that there was a small chance we would see some sheep before they moved to higher ground. We were hopeful, but the Big Horns were either well-hidden or at the top of the mountain. We saw only a few deer and some very big jackrabbits.
Nevertheless, the mountain scenery was extraordinary. I have posted pictures of the Wind River Range, the Whiskey Mountains, and photos of the scenic streams and lakes in the Basin. I don’t need to say much about them or the beauty of the area; you can judge for yourself. (Top, above, and below)

 

Not much else to say about the relaxing time we had here. We met a cute family from Franklin, Tennessee, in the site adjacent to ours, and friendly couple from Indianapolis, owners of an older model fifth-wheel similar to Lucy. They planned to upgrade and had some questions about our trailer. We gave them a tour. I heard them discussing a purchase as they walked away. We love Lucy, and I get a big kick out of showing her off.

That’s it for now. Come back next week, and we’ll take you to Jackson Hole and Yellowstone National Park.

Until we meet again…we’re just Easin’ Along.

The title of my blog, Easin’ Along, does not accurately depict the first week of this journey. Our two-trailer convoy blitzed across Kentucky, Missouri, Nebraska, and eastern South Dakota in a series of one-night stands until we reached Hermosa, SD, a short distance from Mt. Rushmore. We endured some temperatures that bordered 100 degrees and spent a lot of late afternoons inside our trailers. Thankfully, when we paused for a three-night visit in the Black Hills, the temperatures plunged, and we thrived on 70ish weather during the day and low 50’s at night.

With two full days to rest, stretch our legs and let our granddaughters run off some pent-up energy, we decided to visit Mt. Rushmore and Custer State Park. Rushmore, just a few miles away from our campsite in Hermosa, came first. After packing a picnic lunch, we were off.

Initially, I worried about crowds and maintaining proper social distance measures. Still, with no tour busses or international travelers, the crowd size at Mt. Rushmore was not significant, and everyone there was just as concerned about their safety as we were about ours.  I felt comfortable.

I have seen pictures of Mt. Rushmore all of my life but had no perspective of the size of the carvings.  The faces are massive, and I cannot imagine the skill or the effort required to produce a monument of this size and scope.  We attended a lecture by a Park Ranger on the creation of the memorial, carved by sculptor Gutzon Borglum beginning in 1927 and completed in 1941. The Rangers presentation was excellent; even my eight-year-old granddaughter soaked up every word.

 

After Mt. Rushmore, we drove a short distance to Custer State Park to enjoy a picnic lunch before taking a one-mile stroll around Sylvan Lake. The cool temperatures and the scenic lake enhanced the pleasure of our walk, and the girls ate it up.

Although it was not part of our plans for this day, we decided to visit the Crazy Horse Memorial before returning to the campground. We opted to stay in the Visitor Center rather than take a bus to the sculpture. Instead, we watched a movie about this enormous, unfinished project that will require decades to complete. I wish them well.

At that point, Helen and I called it a day and returned to Lucy.  Collin and the girls drove through the wildlife loop at Custer State Park and received an escort of three Bison. During the excursion, they came upon a small herd of wild burros and walked over to them.  Collin captured this picture of the encounter.  Her expression is priceless.

Badlands National Park was our destination for day two. I hate to admit it, but I never realized that the Badlands was a National Park. I thought it was a desolate part of the country that was uninhabitable–that’s it. It probably is uninhabitable, but the beauty is stunning in its own right. Thankfully, our government had the foresight to create a National Park here.

Once again, the small number of visitors allowed us to roam at will without being overly concerned about social distance measures.  We took a hike along a marked trail to a canyon about a mile from the starting point. Cool temperatures kept the Badlands from being bad, and it felt great to get some exercise.

We made one stop on our way back to the campground to photograph a nursery band of ewes and lambs, Big Horn sheep separated from the rams in the herd, while the lambs bond with their mothers. They were perched on a narrow ridge overlooking a prairie. The peak was far enough from the side of the road to stretch my camera lens to the limit, but you can see that the sheep were large and probably sleeping off lunch.

On Saturday morning, our convoy companions would leave us and drive on to Jackson Hole to join my daughter-in-law’s family. Before they left, Collin was up early to try his luck at fishing the North Platte River beside the campground. I joined him to take some pictures. The fish were safe on this day, but the scenery was gorgeous.

 

Before they left, we took a picture in our traveling T-shirts, passed hugs all around, and sent them on their way.  Helen and I will join them in a week. Week one was now in the books. From this point forward, we will slow down and go from blitzing across the country and return to a pace more to our liking…just Easin’ Along. See you on the trail.

(Note: Click on any picture in this post to begin a slide show of all pictures enlarged)