Yellowstone or bust

Kris and I packed up the train a few days ago and headed for the Northeast entrance to Yellowstone National Park. We dropped south of Billings into a little town called Red Lodge, Montana. Beyond the town is the Custer National Forest and the entry to Yellowstone. Driving up through Custer on 212 finally gave us the feeling that we had reached the West. The massive mountains on either side of the road, jutting into the skyline, dominated our views. In the distance you could see into the pass which still held onto winter with an icy grip. The road was a steep climb from 5500 feet up to around 7500 where we noticed something peculiar. That something was a metal gate, which was closed, along with the road. Seems funny that the Northeast entrance to Yellowstone is open, but the road to get into that entrance is not... Having no other option, and not knowing where to go, we headed back into Red Lodge.

We stopped at the local tourism building to get an idea of any hikes to do just outside of town and where to eat, etc. The ladies behind the counter were very nice, and super excited to see outsiders at this time of the year. They did mention that the route over to Yellowstone on 212 doesn't usually open until around Memorial Day. We would have to find another way around, but not today. After going through an extensive amount of information we decided on a 8 mile hike in Custer for the afternoon would suffice. After that we would just stay in the campsites in the national forest and head out in the morning.

We arrived at the trailhead around 1pm and suited up. This time we actually dug out our hiking gear and brought the essentials. I figured since we weren't familiar with the territory, and there would likely be snow at elevation, we should be prepared for the worst. The wind was howling (as usual) when we left the parking lot and we quickly ascended through the trees up to the first switchbacks. Higher and higher we climbed, gaining more views of the surrounding landscape along the way. We eventually climbed to an elevation that still held snow and began picking our way up the trail. After post holing for 45 minutes we came to a great ledge that overlooks the entire valley and allows you to see deeper into the pass. I decided this was a good place to turn around because we were definetely not on the trail we were supposed to be on. We snapped some pics and headed back to the van.

Once down we dropped into the nearest campsite and set up to cook dinner. Kristen had just mixed everything she needed for supper when to the South we heard the distinct sound of thunder. Coming over the mountain was a wall of black clouds and we could already see bolts of energy flashing in the distance. As the first few drops landed, large and cold, we decided it was best to pack up and head into town. Just as I was closing the door to the trailer bolts of lightning flashed inside the park and the downpour started. As we descended the access road the lightning was flashing all around us. Sometimes so close you could almost feel the energy. As we dropped to the final miles of the access road it began to hail. The balls of ice weren't large, but they were coming with a ferocity I've never seen before. Within a minute the road was covered with two inches of ice and water. The highway became a treacherous mess and we slowed to a crawl. As we came into town the ice had turned back to rain, but it still came hard and fast. We pulled into the local brewery just in time.

Once inside the brew pub I noticed something strange. Everyone was staring at us. We were just coming in, wet and cold, shaking off our coats and all eyes were on us. We spotted two empty seats at the bar and sat down, thankful to be inside. Scanning the list of beers revealed a decent selection and we ordered a couple. The bartender, if that is what you could call her, was not exactly quick. What she was exactly was annoying as all get out and I quickly found myself trying to tune her out. Easier said than done though. She quirped to locals about variuos things, cracked jokes that weren't funny and basically just would not shut up. She also had one of those voices that no matter what is being said makes your skin crawl. Imagine my chagrine when that voice announced to us that the pub did not serve dinner past 7pm. 7pm? I guess nobody in Red Lodge, Montana needs to eat after 7pm. Locals don't get hungry after 7pm. Maybe they are like magwa? If they eat after 7pm they turn into gremlins. Of course I thought this was BS. So we decided to finish our beers and get to someplace that bought into basic societal traditions. As I turned towards the brew operation and looked through the window I noticed that the guy working inside was puffing a cigarette. Now I don't know what the state of Montana holds near and dear but I think it should be considered wrong to be smoking while working in an establishment that serves food. And with that the Red Lodge Brewery in Red Lodge, Montana earned my frown of disapproval. Shame on you Red Lodge Brewery. We did finally find someplace to eat down town. I had my second Bison burger in my life, and it was even more delicious than the first.

We pulled back into the national forest to spend the night and it was still raining. No matter, the van is impervious to attacks from above. We would spend the night snug and warm inside our metal beast. Sleep came quickly but just as quickly I was awake again. Something was on the roof, something small, moving a lot. Mice, Marmots, Aliens? I couldn't figure it out. As the scuttling moved directly above our heads I pounded the ceiling once and the intruder quickly dropped down the back window and off the roof. That was not the end of it though. The entire night the scuttling continued. Up and down onto the roof, back and forth across it. Whenever sleep came it was soon interrupted by those noisey feet. I had paranoid dreams about mice chewing at the wires and hoses in the van. As the sun peaked over the mountains we were bleary eyed and tired. The scuttling had not stopped and I had it. Without letting Kristen get out of bed I fired up the van and headed down the road. I eventually stopped so we could get our stuff together for the drive.

The scuttling had stopped, but that saga has not ended...

To Be Continued...