A New Day

When is sleeping in ever a bad thing? (rhetorical!)  That is how we started off a new day at the Sleeping Bear RV Park.  I guess I should clarify.  Miki got up and walked the dogs and I laid in bed hovering on the edge of trying to sleep in.  It has now been over 24 hours without a blowout of any kind and I’d say that is a step in the right direction and that direction for us today is north and some west at the end.  Teton National Park (Colter Bay to be specific) here we come.

Before leaving Lander, we took the morning to explore Sinks Canyon State Park, a few miles out of town, where the Middle fork of the Popo Agie River (pronunciation clue…you’ll never ever guess it!  Google it) drains this cute, granite bluff lined canyon.  Near the top of the canyon, before the road switch backed up and over the mountain, we walked the dogs along the Popo (azhie).  This was our first physical exertion at altitude and we did good.  The dogs did even better, but they are dog-tired tonight (pun intended).

Heading up the Middle Fork of the Popo Agie River to a falls to view...
never got to the falls, the road was a callin'.

A family photo.

But before leaving the canyon we discovered the reason for the name of the canyon.  The river disappears down into a cavern that has never been able to be explored for some reason, only to reappear a quarter mile down stream.  Plus there is more water coming out of “the rise” than went down the “sink.”  Through dye tests they know it is the same water that disappeared up stream, but not sure where the extra water is coming from.  Plus they have an observation deck over looking the “rise” where the trout are protected, so they are monster browns.  The fact there is a fish feeding machine (you know, 10 pellets for a quarter) at the head of the trail doesn’t hurt their monster diet either.

The water heading downstream into the mouth of the "sinks."

The entrance to the "sinks."

The troll that guards the entrance to the abyss.

The "rise" (middle left) and indistinguishable monster trout in the shadow of the
tourist on the viewing platform throwing fish food to gaping mouths below.

We have become very proficient (knock on wood) at setting up and packing up the doghouse it seems.  Quite a stretch from the first few times we stumbled through it making sure we didn’t drive off with the sewer hose still connected or the TV antennae being broken off by a low hanging branch by chance we had forgotten to lower it to it’s travel position.  Don’t want to get too confident if you know what I mean…and I think you do.

This leg of the journey became more pleasing to the eye for this kind of “High Plains Drifter” scenery.  The mountains appeared and the sagebrush was replaced by pines.  Many of the mountain slopes varied in color as we went from mint greens to soft brick reds in sloping layers, like a tilted layer cake.  There are even a few patches of snow left high on some of the mountain peaks.  The following photos are a sequence of the topography to the Tetons.

"Are we in Kansas?" (No offense Shannon and Megan!)

A third dimension is added to the scenery.

Now some color.

Some interest.

To the trained eye, you can make out The Grand Teton itself in the distance.

The last town of any size before breaking the national park barrier was DuBois.  It appeared to be a higher rent little town that probably thrived on tourism.  After filling the tank we passed a giant jackalope that was begging for Miki to have a moment with.  I was thrilled to record it for history, Miki was thrilled to mount the giant for a photo op, and the two other middle aged ladies that were getting out of their car behind us were thrilled to not be the only ones paying attention to a 9 foot fiberglass rabbit, wearing antlers and a saddle!

Words cannot do this justice...

The only thing left between us and the Grand Tetons was a little time, some roadwork, and the scenery improving the closer we got.  At one point we rounded a bend in the road only to find the Teton Mountains themselves as only they look.  Their distinctive, majestic, iconic shapes in the haze of the midday sun almost took my breath away even though the distance between us was almost mirage like.  But having been here before, I knew that the clear days, sunrises and sunsets to come would replace this first distant image.  The trip was now real and we were almost in position for the next two weeks.  The blowout now seems so long ago.

Not to brag, but as we slowly meandered our way to our campsite, after checking in with the rangers, the doghouse seemed pretty impressive.  Not that size matters, but we got a few longing looks from passers by.  Not the biggest, newest, or most colorful here, its ours and works for us…and the dogs…but most importantly…Miki.

After eating some Miki made homemade soup we got our bearings and headed to our first ranger talk at the local amphitheater.  And thanks to Ranger Amy, we now know as much about moose in the park as anyone may want to.  I am hoping to have a moose photo to share in the near future.  She also mentioned that a week ago a grizzly bear worked its way through our very campground, but then this was minutes after she got the audience to practice making a moose call using some hard to construct hand and finger positions that turned out to be a practical joke on us to look like fools.  Not sure I will ever trust a park ranger again.

Okay, put your hands together, cross your middle fingers, lay down your
pinkies, put your thumbs together and lick them, now you look foolish!
HAHAHA...reluctant applause.

Well, this new day has almost passed and as I must use the wifi at the Laundromat to make this posting, cause I don’t want to hear it from any of you that I am slacking.  That is right, maybe a half a bar on our cell phones, an occasional few seconds on our wifi, and TV…HA!   Hell, we’re CAMPING!

My Zen from the Road:  The disappearing river we explored today at Sinks Canyon State Park reminded me of friends, places, and things in my life that are there for awhile, then disappear, but then are back, with no apparent reason, you are just glad they are…just like the giant trout thriving in the “rise.”