A quiet night; no-one else around. The next morning, I see birds in the
sagebrush I can't recognize. Two different kinds. I'd better read up on
which birds like to hang out in desert sage.
I don't know why they put so many warning lights and buzzers on the Bounder.
I hardly ever start to drive off while the hydraulic jacks are still down,
or before I have reinflated the suspension.
We leave by nine for our rendezvous in West Yellowstone. The freeway miles
are behind us. Now we're driving wide-open, two-lane highway; me at the
wheel, Rags asleep behind his cat box. I spot the first of the osprey nests
at Boulder City, Wyoming. They take good care of their osprey here; tall
posts, with platforms on the top, away from the power poles.
I see a sign advertising local attractions. The Museum of the Mountain Man
in Pinedale has Jim Bridger's rifle. When we do get to Pinedale, population
just a few, we're greeted by the sign "Welcome to Pinedale, all the
civilization you'll need". I like that sign. This town is alone in the
high desert; a wide main street, with dips at the intersections. No storm
drains for this place.
Further through, just before we leave town, we stop for fuel. It's not that
we need fuel yet, but we can take on a half tank. I meant to stop at Rock
Springs, because the prices are better there, but that didn't work out. Too
many other people had the same idea. If I fill up at West Yellowstone for
the trip home, I'll probably pay the highest price possible.
Snacked on some white peaches Judy picked up at the farmer's market in
Carbondale. White peaches are very good. We need more white peaches.
Passed the campground at Warren Bridge. That's the campground we can never
remember quite where it is. It's well north of Pinedale, four hundred
seventy-five miles from home. There. I've written it down. No way I'll
forget where that place is again. We stopped there once on a previous trip.
It's not spectacular; it's rather plain, but it's a nice place to stop. It
would be a place to fish for a couple hours, if a person remembered to stop
in Pinedale and get a Wyoming license.
On we go, through that high mountain meadow town of Bondurant, still looking
like it is just waking up from winter. Past the Black Dog Ranch, and out
the other side of this mountain park, by following the Hoback River Canyon
down to the confluence with the Snake River, downstream from Jackson. The
Hoback is a clear-running, winding, wadeable mountain stream. It looks
worth some fishing attention. The Snake River cuts a much wider swath. A
person would not wade across this one. A lot of people float on it; some
with fishing poles.
The Snake empties into Palisade Lake in Idaho. The lake level is not as low
as last year, but the whole upper end is still a flat grassy field. I am a
creature of habit. I stop for lunch where I always do. I go for a
lunchtime run up the road like I always do. I look down from the road into
inaccessible secluded coves that are supposed to have boats anchored and
people playing on the swim platforms that have been tethered there. The
swim platforms are lying on the ground, and there are four-wheeler tracks in
the dirt around them.
The drive after lunch is easy and fast. We check in at Grizzly RV park by
three-thirty. Bill is already there. He wants to play racquetball, so we
check out the local hair and nail salon. That's where the racquetball court
is in West Yellowstone; in the back of the hair and nail salon. It's
Sunday. It's closed.
We take a tour of the area, checking out the camping sites at Baker's Hole
just north of town, and out on the Madison Arm, poking into Hebgen Lake. We
don't need to stay at these campgrounds; we just want to know what's
available for future use. The Baker's Hole campground looks promising; well
separated dry camping sites, some right on the edge of the Madison River.
The RV Park out on Madison Arm is in a nice location right on the lake, but
it feels kind of crowded and crummy. We probably won't stay there unless
we're desperate for lake time.
Chores and errands done, we get good barbecue for dinner at Eric's new
sit-down restaurant. Eric used to guide out of Madison River Outfitters.
He started a little stand-up barbecue stand in town and it went well. Now
he has the new big place open and the little place closed. It was packed.
The food was excellent. Good for us. Good for Eric.
Tomorrow, the float trip.
