We deposited Betty and
Andrew at the Jackson airport as they were beginning the boarding process. Yeah, we were cutting it close, but
then you could play touch football in the terminal and the TSA folks looked
like they just got done loading the baggage in the plane, collected tickets,
and did the hourly cleaning of the bathrooms before strip searching began. Did I say it was a small airport? They got through security, although
Andrew got the pat down. As first
class was settling in to their part of the cabin and preparing for whatever spa
treatment came with a flight out of Jackson Hole, our touring duo boarded.
As they were taxiing to the
runway, we headed to town for a shot of diesel and a few grocery items. I posted the blog from the grocery
store parking lot while a tour bus pulled up and unloaded. I’ve never seen that listed in the
itinerary for a tour of the west…Day
4…Head to Yellowstone via The Tetons, but first we’ll be stopping at
Albertson’s in Jackson instead of the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar or one of the
5,000 art galleries, so you can get your own damn food today. Stay away from that bus tour
company.
The truck turned north and
we headed for a fishing destination unknown. Just outside of town, not too far from the animatronic moose
family that seems to appear each evening for your viewing pleasure, we turned
onto a road at Gros Ventre (grow vont
- for the 1800’s illiterate mountain man) Junction we had not traveled yet. A few miles up the road we pulled off
next to the Gros Ventre River and I suited up for a few hours of cat and
mouse. After catching a nice
little rainbow (about 12”), cat and mouse turned into a Tom and Jerry cartoon
and I was skunked for the remaining time, not including a couple of nice bites
that I did not hook. The wind was
picking up and getting hard to cast, so home we went.
The dogs were much
appreciative of the fact we did not leave them as long as a hiking day and they
had more time sniffing deer urine and fantasizing about the squirrels and
chipmunks they’d like to meet.
We cleaned up the
doghouse. Miki walked the dogs as
I figured out how to put the guest blowup (notice I did not use the word
blowout by accident!) bed away, since it had never been used…it was not a
certainty it would happen. I
vacuumed, but spent more time trying to get the little attachment on the end to
work properly than actually vacuuming, as Miki cleaned up the kitchen. One of the propane tanks needed
refilling, so I loaded it in the truck and headed for the nearest propane
dealer, of which there is NONE.
Thank goodness the check in office sells propane, while a campground
host, Bob from Arizona in this case, fills the tank. Twenty-seven dollars later I was back and knew more about
Bob than any stranger should know about Bob. My ears felt taken advantage of.
Bacon. The theme for dinner. I cooked it and Miki prepared a salad
for hers to be sprinkled on and a BLT for me to layer mine on. It was during this activity that the
idea came to me. I was spooning
the grease out into a can (yeah, I was surprised it was in the pan too!) when
it hit me. We’ve only seen deer
around the campground so far, so why don’t we just drizzle some of this grease
in a few strategic locations to see what we might attract. We keep seeing these “Be Bear Aware”
signs and there are no bears to be aware of, so let’s spice it up. Let’s give the campers here what they
came for. Stay tuned!
We both have “food babies”
(full bellies) and Miki has already crashed on the couch. While Tooga is chasing rabbits in his
dreams right now (his little legs are twitching) Miki’s eyes are closed, mouth
agape, with nasally inhales and throaty exhales to serenade me as I sign off
from today’s off day. Sounds
vaguely like Miki’s dad, Walt, at about 9:00 on any given evening. A kind of pre-sleep routine that works
very well.
I am guessing that these
words are not as pleasant to look at, as some of the photos we try to
include. You get an off day too,
but from this visual vicarious portion of our communiqués. Okay…the camera that we usually use has
most likely captured its last image.
When turning it on, the lens extends and retracts a number of times
(usually just once when it was in working condition) and then a final last
breath sound comes from the little speaker on its side (not so much a lie as
creative expression) and the lens closes up for good.
Hope all is well with you
and you are healthy, happy, and safe.
My Zen from the Road: I
teased earlier about Bob from Arizona, but as he was helping me by refilling
our propane tank, it was just him and me.
In the middle of nowhere (sort of) being in the moment, as he told me
about some of his travels, how the nozzle on the propane hose is actually
3-in-1 (which I won’t go into), and shared info on the three deer families that
hangout here in the campground. I
so enjoyed listening to him and hope he is the one to refill our other tank
when it becomes empty. It reminded
me of conversations I would have with individual students I had. They would just be going on about
something so insignificant to me, but meant the world to them at the time. You could see it in their eyes and hear
it in their voice and I was the lucky one that got to hear it. I hope you get to listen to something
that means nothing to you, but you make that person think it’s the most
interesting story you have ever heard.
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