No Country for Cold Men
- Thread starter kcowyo
- Start date
FourByLand
Expedition Leader
No kiddin'!
Any campfire shots?
Fires permited in the NP?
:jump:
Any campfire shots?
Fires permited in the NP?
:jump:
articulate
Expedition Leader
Ah, the formula for good trips. John Muir-esque to the core: ". . . and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in."kcowyo said:
Welcome to the mountains, boys. You are home.
kcowyo
ExPo Original
(* I'm glad everyone is enjoying this. I'll tell my part my way and Chuck will tell his story his way. Somewhere in between is what really happened...)
The night before, while we debated the contents of the cooler, Chuck had surprised me with a bottle of Patron Silver Tequila. The day before his arrival, I had turned 38 and this was my birthday present from one of my closest friends. He handed the box to me with a huge smile on his face and an obvious amount of pride, not unlike my 7 year old son who beamed with pride as he gave me his present, a new camping table he had picked out all by himself.
With all the sensitivity of a bitter ex-spouse, the color drained from my face as Chuck unfurrled the bottle from the box and I told him,
"Oh wow, that's great..... But I can't drink that stuff."
"Whadda ya mean?" he asked
"Dude, I can't drink tequila. The southwest Portal guys will denounce me so don't tell anyone, but I can't drink tequila. I'm a whiskey man."
"You can't? Whadda you mean 'you can't?'"
"I will dry-heave until my toenails hurt if I even smell it. Anything that smells like limes or Triple Sec too. Man I'm sorry, you should keep it. Your coming up here is present enough for me."
So I explain to him how many years ago, I probably got alcohol poisoning from a night drinking too much tequila. I was on my dorm room floor for 2 days wretching. Now I can't even stand the smell of it. I have tried once since then to drink some and it didn't go over well at all....
See a year or so ago several ExPo members took a trip to Death Valley. Al Walter had generously agreed to guide us so as a 'thank you', I brought him a bottle of tequila. Al loves the stuff and BajaTaco had kindly recommended a good brand that Al would like. Not unlike Chuck, I proudly presented the bottle to Al, thinking he would be happy and surprised with my choice. Imagine my horror when he offered me a poured shot....
Actually I think it was a sipping glass, not a shot. But when Al offers you a drink, you don't turn it down. No more than you would turn down the Godfather, if he offered you some cannoli. With all of the grit I could muster, I slugged back the glassfull and tried desperately not to spew it back all over Al's bar.
The look on Al's face said it all. I was an uncouth and untrained tequila drinker. What I should have sipped and savored, I awkwardly gagged down, as if in some dung eating challenge on TV's 'Fear Factor'. Any pride I felt at temporarily besting my demons was immediately doused as that firewater slithered through my innards. I spent the rest of the night avoiding Al's bar and trying not to dry-heave everytime I burped...
Chuck understood and took my tales in stride. He popped the cork and took a few shots to show me how easy it was. Well the tequila may have been easy, but I'm not. I promised him I would take his generous gift home and make a spot for it in my liquor cabinet for guests.
So does anybody want to drop by for some tequila shots?
The night before, while we debated the contents of the cooler, Chuck had surprised me with a bottle of Patron Silver Tequila. The day before his arrival, I had turned 38 and this was my birthday present from one of my closest friends. He handed the box to me with a huge smile on his face and an obvious amount of pride, not unlike my 7 year old son who beamed with pride as he gave me his present, a new camping table he had picked out all by himself.
With all the sensitivity of a bitter ex-spouse, the color drained from my face as Chuck unfurrled the bottle from the box and I told him,
"Oh wow, that's great..... But I can't drink that stuff."
"Whadda ya mean?" he asked
"Dude, I can't drink tequila. The southwest Portal guys will denounce me so don't tell anyone, but I can't drink tequila. I'm a whiskey man."
"You can't? Whadda you mean 'you can't?'"
"I will dry-heave until my toenails hurt if I even smell it. Anything that smells like limes or Triple Sec too. Man I'm sorry, you should keep it. Your coming up here is present enough for me."
So I explain to him how many years ago, I probably got alcohol poisoning from a night drinking too much tequila. I was on my dorm room floor for 2 days wretching. Now I can't even stand the smell of it. I have tried once since then to drink some and it didn't go over well at all....
See a year or so ago several ExPo members took a trip to Death Valley. Al Walter had generously agreed to guide us so as a 'thank you', I brought him a bottle of tequila. Al loves the stuff and BajaTaco had kindly recommended a good brand that Al would like. Not unlike Chuck, I proudly presented the bottle to Al, thinking he would be happy and surprised with my choice. Imagine my horror when he offered me a poured shot....
Actually I think it was a sipping glass, not a shot. But when Al offers you a drink, you don't turn it down. No more than you would turn down the Godfather, if he offered you some cannoli. With all of the grit I could muster, I slugged back the glassfull and tried desperately not to spew it back all over Al's bar.
The look on Al's face said it all. I was an uncouth and untrained tequila drinker. What I should have sipped and savored, I awkwardly gagged down, as if in some dung eating challenge on TV's 'Fear Factor'. Any pride I felt at temporarily besting my demons was immediately doused as that firewater slithered through my innards. I spent the rest of the night avoiding Al's bar and trying not to dry-heave everytime I burped...
Chuck understood and took my tales in stride. He popped the cork and took a few shots to show me how easy it was. Well the tequila may have been easy, but I'm not. I promised him I would take his generous gift home and make a spot for it in my liquor cabinet for guests.
So does anybody want to drop by for some tequila shots?
kcowyo
ExPo Original
With decidedly less than $2 million dollars, but a big ol' bottle of high dollar to-kill-ya in my possession, we rolled out of Sunlight Basin on a cold, gray morning. Overnight the puddles on the trail had formed a thin sheen of ice and the mud froze just enough so as not to coat our undercarriages. What had been a slick and slimy drive in, was now a crunchy muddy trail. It began to drizzle (or rather it started drizzling again), as we found our way back to a paved road.
The skies were flat gray and the ground was covered in snow. Our goal today was to cross the legendary Beartooth Pass, head into Red Lodge, Montana for a bite and then cross back over the pass again before stopping in Yellowstone National Park for the night.
Beartooth Pass rises to 11,000ft in elevation and is only open a few months out of the year. The isolated road gets so much snowfall in the winter that staying open year round is not an option. But traditionally it opens every year on Memorial Day weekend. All reports prior to leaving home indicated it would be open, so we went for it.
Knowing the heavy winter we've had, I'm concerned about the road conditions but the gates are open and we proceed. At lower elevations than I can ever recall, I'm seeing snow piled up on the side of the road. First, it's short walls on both sides of the two lane road. Then the walls grow and grow. In just a few miles, but far from the top of the pass, there are walls of snow as high as the truck doors.
Then the rain turns into snow. The snow comes down thicker and everything is white. It gets hard to tell where the sky ends and the ground begins. Then one of the lanes disappears under drifts of snow. Enthusiastic feelings fade to concern. Then it gets worse....
I had let Chuck take the lead in hopes that I would hear his reaction to driving over the Beartooths for the first time. So that I might see them with new eyes more or less. But this was getting bad. The walls of snow on both sides of the tight switchbacks were getting taller, the road was getting more narrow and visibility was reduced considerably. The higher we climbed, the less traffic we see and the more the snow piled up.
Geezus!
The walls of snow were now well over the top of the trucks, the snow was coming down faster and now the wind was picking up, putting us ********** dab in the middle of a white out. For the most part we have one lane to navigate and it was mostly covered by fresh drifts. Inside the few vehicles that do pass us, all I can see are the whites of the drivers eyes and their white knuckles on the steering wheel. Chuck radios that one guy we had passed was crying behind the wheel!
During the brief moments we dare to take a hand off the wheel to talk on the CB, we're kind of patting ourselves on the back for being hardcore enough to even try a road like this. We're also kind of wondering how much worse it gets before we reach the top. Silently, I'm also wondering how we're going to navigate the tight, steep switchbacks down the other side.
At what point does one make the decision to turn around and abandon the adventure?
As I ponder the option to play my punk card and tell Chuck, 'That's it. Let's head back down,' the road departments snowplow comes into view. Orange strobes flashing, this yellow monstrosity is stopped right in the middle of the road. I ease up to the truck and the driver, hunched over in the driving wind approaches my truck. I crack open my window and before he can say a word, I ask him,
"You callin' it?"
"Yeah, I think so. This storm is pretty bad and it's only gonna get worse. I cleared a spot big enough to turn around."
Whew! I silently put my punk card away, the decision having been made for me. Back down we'll go. Gladly, I might add....
The skies were flat gray and the ground was covered in snow. Our goal today was to cross the legendary Beartooth Pass, head into Red Lodge, Montana for a bite and then cross back over the pass again before stopping in Yellowstone National Park for the night.
Beartooth Pass rises to 11,000ft in elevation and is only open a few months out of the year. The isolated road gets so much snowfall in the winter that staying open year round is not an option. But traditionally it opens every year on Memorial Day weekend. All reports prior to leaving home indicated it would be open, so we went for it.
Knowing the heavy winter we've had, I'm concerned about the road conditions but the gates are open and we proceed. At lower elevations than I can ever recall, I'm seeing snow piled up on the side of the road. First, it's short walls on both sides of the two lane road. Then the walls grow and grow. In just a few miles, but far from the top of the pass, there are walls of snow as high as the truck doors.
Then the rain turns into snow. The snow comes down thicker and everything is white. It gets hard to tell where the sky ends and the ground begins. Then one of the lanes disappears under drifts of snow. Enthusiastic feelings fade to concern. Then it gets worse....
I had let Chuck take the lead in hopes that I would hear his reaction to driving over the Beartooths for the first time. So that I might see them with new eyes more or less. But this was getting bad. The walls of snow on both sides of the tight switchbacks were getting taller, the road was getting more narrow and visibility was reduced considerably. The higher we climbed, the less traffic we see and the more the snow piled up.
Geezus!
The walls of snow were now well over the top of the trucks, the snow was coming down faster and now the wind was picking up, putting us ********** dab in the middle of a white out. For the most part we have one lane to navigate and it was mostly covered by fresh drifts. Inside the few vehicles that do pass us, all I can see are the whites of the drivers eyes and their white knuckles on the steering wheel. Chuck radios that one guy we had passed was crying behind the wheel!
During the brief moments we dare to take a hand off the wheel to talk on the CB, we're kind of patting ourselves on the back for being hardcore enough to even try a road like this. We're also kind of wondering how much worse it gets before we reach the top. Silently, I'm also wondering how we're going to navigate the tight, steep switchbacks down the other side.
At what point does one make the decision to turn around and abandon the adventure?
As I ponder the option to play my punk card and tell Chuck, 'That's it. Let's head back down,' the road departments snowplow comes into view. Orange strobes flashing, this yellow monstrosity is stopped right in the middle of the road. I ease up to the truck and the driver, hunched over in the driving wind approaches my truck. I crack open my window and before he can say a word, I ask him,
"You callin' it?"
"Yeah, I think so. This storm is pretty bad and it's only gonna get worse. I cleared a spot big enough to turn around."
Whew! I silently put my punk card away, the decision having been made for me. Back down we'll go. Gladly, I might add....
desertgirl66
WEMT
Dudes! What is up with all that snow and ice?!?!
Love your read KC~~~ Next time I see you , I will bring Patron Anejo :REOutShootinghunter
Or, better yet! Green tea and chocolate biscuits :chef:
Love your read KC~~~ Next time I see you , I will bring Patron Anejo :REOutShootinghunter
Or, better yet! Green tea and chocolate biscuits :chef:
Ursidae69
Traveller
May 23rd 2008
Now that I’ve marked out to my buddy KC, it's time to get to some trip details posted. :ylsmoke:
May 23rd 2008
The morning we left was rainy and cold. KC was concerned that the weather would hurt the trip and I told him not to worry. I said “Who cares, we’ll just sit around a drink in the snow if it comes to that, it’s all gravy dood!” With all the references to drinking one might assume I may have a bit of an issue! No, I only drink when I camp, and I just happen to camp a lot! :friday:
After a healthy dose of gas station coffee and burritos we headed off for Cody. It wasn’t long before the Owl Creek Mountains came into view, with the tops dusted heavily in snow. It’s nice to see the mountains in the background beyond the hundreds of miles of sage brush flats in Wyoming.
KC told me over the CB that if one had the gumption to do so, they could take a horse and ride the ridgeline all the way into the back side of Yellowstone. What a trip that would be.
We took a detour to see some of Boysen Lake State Park, one of the larger bodies of water around. The roads were in rough shape with all the moisture. From across the lake you can see the deep cut through the Owl Creek Mountains known as Wind River Pass. We’d be driving through there shortly. My GPS lost coverage several times in the pass because it is so steep and so narrow. That is why the track log in the map for that day has those spikes.
We mosey on up to Cody and then head toward the eastern Yellowstone entrance to explore and look for critters. I stopped counting the bald and golden eagles on the drive. Wyoming is full of amazing country and lot of wildlife.
We stopped at one of the big souvenir stores because I saw this crazy van parked outside with tracks. It looked like a fun vehicle to drive. I wonder how much of the turning radius is lost with the tracks?
..cont...
Now that I’ve marked out to my buddy KC, it's time to get to some trip details posted. :ylsmoke:
May 23rd 2008
The morning we left was rainy and cold. KC was concerned that the weather would hurt the trip and I told him not to worry. I said “Who cares, we’ll just sit around a drink in the snow if it comes to that, it’s all gravy dood!” With all the references to drinking one might assume I may have a bit of an issue! No, I only drink when I camp, and I just happen to camp a lot! :friday:
After a healthy dose of gas station coffee and burritos we headed off for Cody. It wasn’t long before the Owl Creek Mountains came into view, with the tops dusted heavily in snow. It’s nice to see the mountains in the background beyond the hundreds of miles of sage brush flats in Wyoming.
KC told me over the CB that if one had the gumption to do so, they could take a horse and ride the ridgeline all the way into the back side of Yellowstone. What a trip that would be.
We took a detour to see some of Boysen Lake State Park, one of the larger bodies of water around. The roads were in rough shape with all the moisture. From across the lake you can see the deep cut through the Owl Creek Mountains known as Wind River Pass. We’d be driving through there shortly. My GPS lost coverage several times in the pass because it is so steep and so narrow. That is why the track log in the map for that day has those spikes.
We mosey on up to Cody and then head toward the eastern Yellowstone entrance to explore and look for critters. I stopped counting the bald and golden eagles on the drive. Wyoming is full of amazing country and lot of wildlife.
We stopped at one of the big souvenir stores because I saw this crazy van parked outside with tracks. It looked like a fun vehicle to drive. I wonder how much of the turning radius is lost with the tracks?
..cont...
Ursidae69
Traveller
May 23rd cont...
We went back into Cody for provisions and then headed north and west. The goal was Sunlight Basin. KC had a camp spot in mind already, but in the wintery conditions we didn’t know how bad the road would be. A week prior KC had emailed me to let me know that the season’s first grizzly bear tracks had been found in Sunlight Basin. That sort of wore on me over the week before I came out. I’ve camped my whole life in the southwest and yelled at dozens of bears to get away from me or out of my camp, even had one walk up to me while asleep on my cot, but those were black bears. Black bears are pussycats. They used to have grizzly bears in the southwest, but we killed them all in our quest to tame the land. The last grizzly was shot in New Mexico in the 1950s.
This is the view of Sunlight Basin as we drove in from the east and dropped out of the clouds.
Anyway, I had a good week to ruminate on the potential to see a bear, a real one. As we turned off the pavement toward Sunlight Basin the road deteriorated. It wasn’t bad, just some mucky stuff. After a little while we hit the snow line and we kept going. We then saw the first “You’re in grizzly country” signs.eepwall:
Great, more stuff to get my imagination going. We kept driving and the snow kept getting deeper. Finally the decent road ended at a large hunting camp, we waved at them and continued on with the slushy two-track. How far up are we going I wondered. A little while later we took a steep turn down to the left off the main road and found camp next to the river. The river and the adjacent cliffs were stunning and it was well past beer-thirty, so we decided to stay.
Then I saw something blue in the snow maybe 50 meters away. As we walked closer, it became apparent that there were several tents buried in the snow. You know the story from KC’s post, but when I first walked up to the tents my thoughts were all about bears. I was looking for tracks and looking for rips in these abandoned tents.
Feeling somewhat unsettled with the entire scene, better off to have a drink and not worry about it. I popped the top on some Patron Silver and a cold Tecate. We talked trash until late in the night. Anyone around here feel their ears burning that night?!
I fell asleep listening to the river. Maybe I was worrying about nothing with grizzlies, then again, the .45 under my pillow helped. :REOutShootinghunter
Still, things did get interesting the next night...
We went back into Cody for provisions and then headed north and west. The goal was Sunlight Basin. KC had a camp spot in mind already, but in the wintery conditions we didn’t know how bad the road would be. A week prior KC had emailed me to let me know that the season’s first grizzly bear tracks had been found in Sunlight Basin. That sort of wore on me over the week before I came out. I’ve camped my whole life in the southwest and yelled at dozens of bears to get away from me or out of my camp, even had one walk up to me while asleep on my cot, but those were black bears. Black bears are pussycats. They used to have grizzly bears in the southwest, but we killed them all in our quest to tame the land. The last grizzly was shot in New Mexico in the 1950s.
This is the view of Sunlight Basin as we drove in from the east and dropped out of the clouds.
Anyway, I had a good week to ruminate on the potential to see a bear, a real one. As we turned off the pavement toward Sunlight Basin the road deteriorated. It wasn’t bad, just some mucky stuff. After a little while we hit the snow line and we kept going. We then saw the first “You’re in grizzly country” signs.
eepwall:
Great, more stuff to get my imagination going. We kept driving and the snow kept getting deeper. Finally the decent road ended at a large hunting camp, we waved at them and continued on with the slushy two-track. How far up are we going I wondered. A little while later we took a steep turn down to the left off the main road and found camp next to the river. The river and the adjacent cliffs were stunning and it was well past beer-thirty, so we decided to stay.
Then I saw something blue in the snow maybe 50 meters away. As we walked closer, it became apparent that there were several tents buried in the snow. You know the story from KC’s post, but when I first walked up to the tents my thoughts were all about bears. I was looking for tracks and looking for rips in these abandoned tents.
Feeling somewhat unsettled with the entire scene, better off to have a drink and not worry about it. I popped the top on some Patron Silver and a cold Tecate. We talked trash until late in the night. Anyone around here feel their ears burning that night?!
I fell asleep listening to the river. Maybe I was worrying about nothing with grizzlies, then again, the .45 under my pillow helped. :REOutShootinghunter
Still, things did get interesting the next night...
articulate
Expedition Leader
Okay, Marko D calls dibs on that orphaned, unloved bottle of Patron.
Gracias, amigos.
"Arriba, afuera, a centro, a dentro!"
Gracias, amigos.
"Arriba, afuera, a centro, a dentro!"
ntsqd
Heretic Car Camper
Beartooth Pass!
I was over Beartooth Pass about the summer of 1978. Knee high to a short grasshopper back then. Man, that is a beautiful place! Other than glaciers there was no snow in sight when we went through.
Was with my maternal grandparents in their '73 F-100 towing their 23' Airstream. Visited an elemtary school friend of mine who was working for his BIL and sister at a dude ranch owned by the Quaker Oats family near Silver Gate. They all thought my grandad was crazy to take that trailer over that pass. His only concern was vapor lock, which didn't happen.
Thanks for the memory trigger!
I was over Beartooth Pass about the summer of 1978. Knee high to a short grasshopper back then. Man, that is a beautiful place! Other than glaciers there was no snow in sight when we went through.
Was with my maternal grandparents in their '73 F-100 towing their 23' Airstream. Visited an elemtary school friend of mine who was working for his BIL and sister at a dude ranch owned by the Quaker Oats family near Silver Gate. They all thought my grandad was crazy to take that trailer over that pass. His only concern was vapor lock, which didn't happen.
Thanks for the memory trigger!