Day 57: West Yellowstone to Slide Inn (27 miles)
7/22
The frigid Montana morning at the KOA unfurled with the yips of overly-groomed Pekingese on morning walks with their be-fannypacked midwestern owners. This is the Wild West.
It had been another irresponsibly cold night reaching into the thirties. Even though I woke up at 6 I had to wait an hour in my tent for the sun to warm the ground a little before moving.
Lila was already up and had bought coffee from the KOA kiosk. They only accepted cash and, having none, I had to wait another 30 minutes for the main store to open to get coffee. During that time I broke down my tent, sat on an ice cold toilet seat, and brushed my teeth.
Coffee finally in hand I set out to make myself some oatmeal at the camp kitchen. I enjoyed my oats, coffee, and book while Aaron changed out his tire.
We weren’t in a huge rush because today we would be meeting Lila’s mother, Vicki, and her boyfriend, RB, at their favorite fly fishing location: Galloup’s Slide Inn. It just so happens that this fly fishing lodge, to which Vicki has visited consistently for about four years, is on the TransAmerica trail. There we plan to take an extended rest period to fly fish, eat, and facilitate some mother-daughter bonding.
We finally ended up leaving the KOA at about 10:30. We took an alternate route and ended up crossing into Idaho for about eight miles before returning to Montana. We crossed over the continental divide twice. Having done it more than 10 times by now, we have lost all interest in the significance of crossing the divide.
We got to Slide Inn at about 1:30 in the afternoon. Lila went into the main store and got the key to her mother’s cabin. We would be sleeping in tents the first night but Lila and I would share a cabin the following night. We were told that, most of the time, the Inn did not allow tents but that because we were with RB we would be given special treatment. We later learned that, to get special treatment, all you had to do is bring a brisket or barbecue to the Slide Inn staff every summer you visit.
Vicki and RB were expected to arrive some time around 5 pm. To pass the time we showered and slept and did nothing. It was fantastic.
At 5:30 Lila saw a familiar face in the cabin window: mother Koons had arrived. Lila went out to greet her and RB while I wiped the sleep from my eyes and Aaron put on a shirt.
They got settled in and then RB fired up the grill and prepared for us a dinner of potatoes, corn, salad and brisket. What a guy.
After hanging out for a while we let Vicki and RB get some rest. Night was falling so we decided to head down to the river and do some stargazing. To me, most constellations look like Orion’s Belt until someone tells me 1) no that’s not Orion’s Belt 2) it’s not the right time of year to see Orion’s Belt and 3) that I’m an idiot. Lila, on the other hand, is very familiar with constellations and very forgiving of my ignorance so it’s always a treat to stargaze with her.
By the time 10 pm rolled around, the Milky Way galaxy was plainly visible. Over the din of the rapids Lila pointed out the international space station, a few planets, and Scorpio.
We laid on our backs and stared at the sky, the occasional bat flying overhead. The sound of the rushing water silenced any stray thoughts or attempt at idle conversation. In silence under the stars we thought about how far we had come, how far we would go and how small we were in the grand scheme of things. Cosmically speaking, crossing just one of seven continents on a relatively small planet isn’t that impressive.
It was about then that Aaron announced he was finally, truly going to leave us tomorrow at noon.
Aaron has said this many times before (once in Missouri, once in Colorado, once in Wyoming) so we took the announcement with a grain of salt. Still, we planned to stay with Vicki and RB for two more days — if he was ever going to leave us, it would be now.
Our serenity was broken by a bewildered dog who stumbled onto the three of us. It started barking until it’s owner finally came and got it. 10 minutes later the dog was at it again until, once again, his owner got him.
Now, RB is a really good cook. I was also very hungry and ate a considerable amount of brisket. After dog encounter number 2, I was feeling kind of gaseous. I slowly let out a long, textured, rumbling fart that lasted 10, maybe 20 seconds.
After it ended, Lila said “well, I guess we better go. The dog’s growling at us again.” But it wasn’t the dog.
It was my butt.
Good night.
