The whole inappropriate comment thing was stuck in my mind, all day, July 19.  I was soothed a great deal, though, by the beauty of Shell Falls, and the delightful meal at Elk View Inn, which is all by its onesies, about halfway between Powell and Sheridan, in north central Wyoming.  I also got to check the Web, and take my medicine.  As I’ve said elsewhere, the worst thing I can do to someone, in my own head and heart, is to hurt their feelings.  I had thirty years of sensitivity training, and it’s second nature now.  I still feel terrible about this, my friend.

Elk View Inn, though, tried its best to help me feel great again, and it got me through the day.  So did some fine scenery, from the top of Shell Canyon (below), to the foot of Medicine Wheel Mountain.

Rounding the corner, at the top of the canyon, I encountered a juvenile moose, enjoying a meal.

After lunch, I found my footing, in the foothills of the Bighorn Range, about three miles east of Medicine Wheel.  Some volcanic outcroppings graced the scene.

Medicine Wheel Mountain is visible, from these outcroppings.

Columbine are prolific in the foothills of the Bighorns.                

The base of  Medicine Wheel Mountain, though, is largely high desert scrub.

I was, however, psyched to drive to the Forest Service parking lot, and go to Medicine Wheel, for several minutes of prayer and homage.  God knows, I needed it, and needed to offer it.

July 19 was a roller coaster of a day.  After the desolation of the fossil beds, Shell Canyon appeared, to take me up to the plateau where I would take a licking, and decide to go on ticking.

Shell Canyon has its share of fossils, whose beds are marked along the way.  It rivals several of Arizona’s and Utah’s canyons, in elevation gain and in the intimacy of its scenic pullouts.  There are several more scenes of this area, than what I usually post.  Shell Canyon is just that awesome, underrated as it is.

Two-thirds of the way up, I found the centerpiece of the preserve:  Shell Falls.  Here are scenes from the eastern side and middle of the falls view trail.

The water leaves iron-tinged lichen, when it recedes.

Now, back to the main attraction.  These views are from the western side of the trail.

Shell Falls has a lovely interpretive center, which features information about the various fossil finds, as well.

This forty-minute stop gave me peace of mind, to face the music which I knew I had to hear, and would, at Elk View Inn.

Next:  The Road to Medicine Wheel.

Once past East Entrance, the scenery changes dramatically.  Gone are the towering alpine peaks, the geysers, the lakes and the pristine meadows.  The Northern Absaroka and Washakie Wilderness areas are pure Great Basin:  Dry, spiky sandstone, reminiscent of the desert regions of other western states.

Closer to Buffalo Bill State Park, east of Wapiti, the Shoshone River is harnessed for the reservoir that is named for the famed scout and showman. Here are some scenes of this popular family camping and fishing spot, which is much greener than the rest of Washakie Wilderness Area.

Just north of the reservoir, the Northern Absaroka also sprouts a bit of green.

I felt a bit empty as I pulled into lively, bustling Cody.  Thinking it was just fatigue, I sat down and enjoyed a decent plate of three-cheese ravioli and salad at Adriano’s, served by a waitress and a food runner, both of whom were named Shannon.  Waitress Shannon was amazing, physically-challenged, yet more than holding her own in the very busy establishment.  Cody lives up to the standard one would expect of a town named for Buffalo Bill.

I kept on, into the night and across the grassland of the Greybull River Valley, before reaching the town of  that name.  Here, I found full campgrounds, but took a room at Wheel-in Motel, as I had to do laundry in the morning, anyway.

Next:  Austere Landscapes and Austerity of the Mind

I got my geyser fix this time, without going up to Old Faithful.  The active forces of West Thumb Geyser basin were in full force, on the afternoon of July 18.

At the end of the show, there remained the blowhole, with promise of more, later.

The shores of Yellowstone Lake are known for attracting grizzly bears, during times of plentiful fish.  I saw none, that afternoon, but the water itself was as inviting as the grand lake’s western counterparts.  Here are some scenes of West Thumb.

The northwest and far north shores of Yellowstone Lake are bisected by the mouth of the Yellowstone River.

Even here, well east of the Geyser Basin, there is geothermal activity.

Once past the lake,there were still no bears, but there is Grizzly Peak.

There are also dunes, about a dozen or so.

The North Fork of the Shoshone River formed a border, of sorts, between Yellowstone and the more arid scenes of the North Absaroka Wilderness.  It was running rather shallow on that Thursday evening.

Next:  The Absaroka, Buffalo Bill State Park and Cody

Yellowstone, to me, has always meant a jaunt to Old Faithful.  This time, though, I focused solely on the eastern portion of the park.  My goal was to at least reach Greybull, in the north central area of Wyoming, by bedtime. There was plenty to see, hear, touch and smell.  The area from Moose Falls to Cody Peak is as full of exquisite experiences as anywhere in the world. Between the south entrance and Lewis Lake, there are at least two herds of American bison.   

The main thing about bison is- know that you, the human, are their favourite kind of throw toy.  Get closer than 300 yards and you’d better be the Kipchoge Keino of your family.  Bison bulls can haul it! Lewis Lake, and its neighbour, Shoshone Lake, are warm- bath water warm.  The pine forest gave one of my fellow travelers the impression that Shoshone Lake would be quite cold.  She dipped her foot in, ever so apprehensively, and gave a shout of joy, as she then immersed herself, full-on, in the humongous mineral bath. Here are some views of Lewis Lake.  Note that the Teton Range stays with us, as a magnificent backdrop.

The lake is fed by the river of the same name.  Both are named for Meriwether Lewis, commander of the early 19th Century expedition to the mouth of the Columbia River.

Shoshone Lake, named for the indigenous people who inhabited the area on all sides of the great parks, is nearly twice the size of Lewis.  It also appeared to draw more swimmers.

These lakes call out:  “Slow down and soak awhile”.  Yet onward I go.

Next: West Thumb and Yellowstone Lake.

I passed through gleaming, clean-as-a-whistle Jackson, stopping briefly at the Visitors Center, to inquire about WiFi, so that I could check for messages from a friend.  I was politely directed to the first Visitors Center in the Grand Teton region.

So, on I went, and learned later that I needed to hone both my intuition and my communications skills.  Nonetheless, the scenery en-route is both a tonic for the soul and a challenge- as if the mountains are saying ” Do you think you are a seasoned hiker?  Come play with us, big boy!”

The Tetons are formidable, but are punctuated by the meandering Snake River.          

Little old me continued on the path to insight and enlightenment, though the wind made my t-shirt balloon out a bit.

                                                                                              The columbines, however, were not disturbed.

Grand Teton, though, is not a long park, north to south.  I found myself in the behemoth that is Yellowstone National Park, in very short order.

My Yellowstone visit will be covered in three posts:  The bison herds to Shoshone Lake;

West Thumb and Yellowstone Lake; The Absaroka and Buffalo Bill State Park.

I left happy, but with a strange feeling that something was amiss.

After leaving Afton, I pretty much stuck to the road- until I passed the tourist town of Alpine.   Then, I reached the Grand Canyon of the Snake River.  As with our Grand Canyon in AZ, Wyoming’s draws rafters by the busload.  No matter; although hordes of tourists are a concern for conservationists, long-term, the presence of lots of other people has never bothered me much.  I don’t go in for trinkets and mementos of a visit to a tourist mecca.  I would buy things for my son, or for a certain special friend, but neither of them are very big on junk, either.  So, I don’t stand in long lines much at all.

Jim Bridger, for whom the Bridger-Teton National Forest is partially named, along with the Teton Range of the Rocky Mountains, was a “mountain man” in these parts during the mid-19th Century.  Every school child in Wyoming and Montana is sure to learn a fair amount about Jim and his close ties to the indigenous people of the northern Rockies.

The Snake and Gros Ventre Ranges, and the river itself, captivated the hordes of rafters, and me.  The Gros Ventre show themselves on the south and east banks of the Snake River.

As the river broke through the heavy forest growth, at the raft and kayak put-ins, I walked down for some views of the grandest river in the northwest Rockies, save the Missouri.

A visitor from New Zealand called me over and pointed out some better views of the open flow.  He is a home builder, by profession, and does his own architecture and design.  The Renaissance Man lifestyle has not disappeared.  In my afternoon years, with my sun still bright, I am always glad to meet such people and explore their views, much as I explore landscapes and build new friendships.

As he left to rejoin his “mates”, I enjoyed the views to which he was referring.

My mindset was healed somewhat by the magnificence.  I look back on the hour or so that was spent here, just taking in the ambiance of the river and its mountain backdrop.  The message is clear- “Gary, remember the song, ‘May It Be’, from The Lord of the Rings- ‘The promise is within you now’. ”

There would be so much more- Promise, doubt, regrouping and fulfillment, as the quest continued.

Next:  Grand Teton National Park