The Wilderness Multiology – Part 1 - Atilla, Marie and the joys of an outdoor refrigerator

Snappy title huh?

Our longest holiday yet – 2 secret, for now, destinations and Glacier National Park with the specific aim of travelling the Road to the Sun from East to West Glacier via Logan Pass.

First stop Minneapolis St Paul in Minnesota, the Lancashire of the USA. State animal, the mosquito. Having forgotten it is the Land of 10,000 Lakes I was relieved to be in a hermetically sealed legionnaires hatchery as opposed to being out in the elements of a balmy, wet Minneapolis St Paul.

It was comforting to know that as menopausal amnesia descends I could comfortably make my home in the state whose official saint is St Anthony the patron saint of lost causes as within 10 minutes there were 6 announcements of people having left items behind - including the totally lost and disoriented woman who is likely to be sacked( if she ever finds her way back) from the DFW metroplex tourism office for losing all her copies of "Come to Texas" monthly, the official mosquito photographer and his tripod and Mr William's and his mobile.

Altough we never got beyond the hallowed portals of the airport lounge I can't help feeling that St Paul was not necessarily buzzing, given that the Bookclub for Ladies in Comfortable Shoes seemed to have opted to have the June meeting in the French Meadow bakery and cafe declaring it to be the most delightful lunch ever. The volume suggested they had known to ask for absinthe from "below the counter", all it needed was for Anais Nin, Gertrude Stein and Alice B Toklas and the chorus line from Moulin Rouge and  the French salon atmosphere would have been complete.

Back up in the air, a couple of aerials which lulled us into a false sense of meteorological security

    

and we land at

 the size of Humberside airport....and that's all I've got to say about that.

Dinner at the McKenzie River Pizza Company and the first great

On the next phase of our trip some subtle hints that maybe not all was green in my valley

Then …..

here we come. Which was why I mentioned secret locations because the faithful would know we did this trip last September. Our plan was to leave it a year before we came back, but stuff has come up. It was a different experience not least mainly because of the weather so please read on..

The location of the first campsite..Tower Falls

And close up or as close as you could get as there had been a landsllip and you were not allowed to take the path to the bottom.

We set up camp rushing to beat the rain. Note the new wind proof (see Big Bend and Palo Duro Blogs) bijou, 3 man residence shot in sun the day we left Tower Falls.

Not only have we invested in a posh gaff weighing only 5 lbs we have added to our extensive camping range..a tarpaulin for extra insulation, two Walmart $2.99 subtle orange and lime green inflatable beds as they fitted better in a case than our roll mats. The unforeseen drawback between them being on land rather than water is that the whole campsite can hear you move or else thinks there is a wheezing old git sleeping next door.

First evening we went for a bit a walk and saw a wolf tearing at a carcass except that my camera can't compete with the camouflage of the countryside and the zoom lenses of the mumbly people who feel they only communciate effectively with animals and the Yellowstone STASI.

First night, Ranger Smith came to move a carcass from the back of the campsite so that bears, wolves and Canadians didn't come looking for dinner. I was a bit miffed as I thought it I would have made up for lost shots..

We met Jessica (originally from Scarborough) and Scott from Reading who were coincidentally going to drink wine and play shithead (a card game). Over the course of which a series of mumbly type people came over to see what was going on and regale their sightings of bears over the last 30 years in reverential tones.

Anyway - Day 2 Hayden valley which we didn’t see last year

Then we didn't see in the rain either...

The bottom of Dunraven Pass which we hoped to walk up but it was closed because it still had large snow drifts which you can't see because half of it is shrouded in clouds..a repetitive story this year. Now concentrate and screw up your eyes; to the right of the left hand pine tree . …a grizzly mother and two cubs - honest. 

And so to Yellowstone Lower Falls, this shot taken by P as I don't do edges and am always on the verge of tears when P goes near them too.

And the view down the valley

Taken on a dull day. It is difficult to provide scale and no-one will volunteer to throw themselves in front of the camera to give perspective so this next shot look on the right hand side of the picture there is a giant staircase which might help... more of that later.

It would have been useful to have a lollipop lady in a bright green coat standing on it too but there you go.

I was also hoping that if we returned I would get a shot of this finally falling away but it didn't happen.

Next stop the Upper Falls

On our way back to the car, humans get many warnings about gettin near buffalo....

Sometimes you are not given the choice

And on the return to Camp Run Amok  me trying to be artistic - well all the colours were so vivid:

Then we turned a corner and Mother Nature produced this!

So 2 nights of wet and cold and we wake to sun but our valley rain was snow on Dunraven Pass road where we had been the day before and  left 2 inches of ice on the road so we had to do an 70 mile round trip to our next campsite Canyon Village, still in Yellowstone but not our original choice as that is still shut because of the ....begins with s and ends in w 1 syllable.

On the way we get to see a pronghorn or two:

Next day  back in the sunshine to the Lower Falls and the view from the top of the staircase above. The path you see is the path we took down to the top of the Lower Falls...dizzy yet?

Then Sharman is a big brave girl and takes this down the stairs...I was going to go down that stairs. Those of you who know me will know I hate walking across bridges and piers where you can see the water swirling below so this was a big thing.

My bravery rewarded

The colours further down the valley were great too.

And looking back down to the falls again

For a litigious society to look over the edge with no rail always seems contradictory

I think I said before Yellowstone gets 5 million visitors a year but it is a common factor that walk ten minutes from the central attraction in any of the national parks and the traffic is reduced by about 85% which means you come across serenity and the wilderness it strives to achieve

And miniature versions of the bigger attractions

It is obviously more difficult to find an animal manicurist here - it was only about 7 inches long so just a youngster.

Sitting duck?

An eight mile walk and back to the campsite chiller for aperitifs

Another cold start. Plans to walk another pass which is higher than Yellowstone Lake

Requires another re-think.

On the other side of the road a geyser and mud bath is merrily bubbling and steaming. Proceeding around the ice floe we meet a Konglommeration of Kamouflage Kenny Kodaks because of:

A young female grizzly, who takes a little walk but then decides that a post deer calf lunch requires a snooze

She then hears Disney is looking to do a real version remake of Winnie the Pooh

Anyone up for tickling my tummy?

Ranger Smith is freaking out about the volume of cars and people standing outside of them in danger of a mauling so we leave for a chat with this guy

Does he look cross to you? Well it's because we stopped taking photgraphs of him and started chatting to a Millwall fan...from Bradford. He resorted to chittering at us very loudly....... not the Millwall fan.

We finished off our walk on Yellowstone Lake  beach which had bubbling and festering activity, yes the  lake that had ice on it.

And here almost endeth the Yellowstone leg which almost coincided with the end of the life of the Grandma who decided that at the start of the dead quiet hours (10 pm) she would become Kansas' answer to Jackanory regailing the adventures of Abigail to Aaaambrrrr for an hour. When a good night depends upon you falling asleep before you realise that you are still that cold despite sealing your goosefat doused body in thermals, jogging top with a hat inside, a sleeping bag which is designed for below 30 and your new cosier two man tent degrees especially when you know that you will be waking up at 6 trying to convince your bladder that it really doesn't need emptying yet because it will be the coldest part of the day and your arthtiric hip requires you to crawl oyour hands and knees, possibly into a faceful of overnight snow.

All of which becomes irrelevant anyway because the party behind you decides to break camp at  5.30  which is 2 and half hours before end of camp quiet hours anouncing

- wake up Grandma (a ifferent grandma),

- Atilla, Marie stop your yowling (a gender confused dog)

The rule....is always ask for a loop on the campsite that does not allow motorized homes or find a little campsite where they are NOT ALLOWED AT ALL!!!!!

Alternatively smear the outside with baked beans and watch the wildlife come to  peel the van open just like a bean tin.

Next stop ...it's a secret.

I'm sorry I don't recognise your accent...

Lest we forget, April has been stay local month, sort of. And what has this given us?

The Fort Worth Mud Run 10k, of running through mud, water and botulism based challenges hosted by the always faithful Marine Corps.

You think the inflatables are taking the p...

Did you know "Semper fi" is an anagram of "free pims".

Golly Tarquin, so much combat trousered testosterone you never did see.

Then there were the women..most of whom were only distinguishable from the men by the wrist and hand action. This is the group that didn't scare P.

Then there were the fun groups, like the pentecostal church mother's group trying to get over a sequence of ever heightening muddy poles. Well they all managed the 18 inch one and the 3ft one but then it came to the 4 and half ft pole which required team work; it involved the only one who managed it over, we'll call her Sister no 1 coming back to kneel on the ground with one knee up so that Sister no 2 could push off from it while Sister nos 3 and 4 could push her upward via the bu-ttocks and Sisters 5, 6 and 7 pull on her arms and shoulders to the accompaniment of:

All sisters to sister no 1  Hell since when you been able to fly like that girl

Sister no 2                    Watch where you putting those hands missee

Sisters 5,6 and 7            You gonna get those giant buns of yours over this bar or what?

Then it came to them all swinging over the muddy, water filled trough on ropes..... or not.

Finally, the reason we went in the first place, our non-marine friend Michael, a Canadian in third position, determined to stuff the US army muscle bound machismo.

 

Looks like he's gonna do it don't cha think...

For those of you about to be offended I apologise but -

You see the kid bending down, well he was a member of the Marine Mini League marshalling the stunts. Now I am not normally one for violence against children (or anyone) but he was the best excuse there ever was for nipping in the bud a future psychotic sparkly diamond general meglomaniac of the Allied Forces, by I think the politically correct  technical psychoanalytical term is erm

"punching the speccy four eyed git's lights out" (he is wearing glasses).

While Michael is in mid manouevre this kid in all seriousness is shouting:

-    Don’t make a mess of my warder

-    It’s my warder you do not have the right to get wet

What's he like when he gets behind a virtual war game?

Calm calm......

Anyway I am thinking of doing this in November but only because at the end you get to do this with a fireman.

Next we have Prairie Fest for the second year running - a sort of green love in with music powered by solar energy.

Breathtaking feats of

Lasso twirling.

Steady now don't pull on that rope too soon.

And they're back with more lard than a Glaswegian fish and chip shop!

More pluck than jolly good sport Joyce Grenfell.

The US answer to the Rollie Pollies.

It's........... the Brazen Bellies. 

Jiggling their stuff to a Polish Polka.

Joined by Aunty Emm''s brick lavatory sized cousin,

A devil

And a wolf

We know how to live.


Ok enough of the locals let's head north west for Caprock Canyons and Palo Duro Canyon State Park via

Who? Don't y'all cut yer throats now


I said we know how to live.


A brief stop at the Michelin 4 flat tyres hostelry with patio cuisine:

And five hours and 7 chapters of Ruth Ren...Dell (?????) later we hit Caprock Canyons:

And so you get a sense of the scale

And the detail

This is Comanche country well it was until they were all shipped to Oklahoma after the battle of .......Palo Duro. The rock formations do give it a real spiritual feel, there are faces everywhere:

Have I told you....there's always a breeze in Texas and it was OK once in the Chisos Mountains (see Big Bend blog). But it's getting beyond a joke now. The morning after the night before:

It is not because of our inferior tent erection skills, if you note we are hugging the trees and bushes from behind which the wind was coming. We actually slept in it like this as there was no point in getting up to fix it. Nor did I want to meet this in the dark:

Please note that I took this as it was International   "cure my irrational arachnophobia week" (that's a Sunday word Bryan). Normally P gets this job but he's still recovering from the near car jacking by a spider in Big Bend.

Ok let's go make my heart race another way.

 - I know there is no-one else about but no the tent has been taken down and the airbeds are flat and I don't know where Incy Wincy has gone.

 - I meant find another canyon to climb.

 - If you've got energy for outdoor sports young man you've got energy to climb a canyon.

I think this marks the entrance

We are heading for Haynes Ridge Overlook. This is halfway up, at least the brochure did say a steep rugged climb. And a rare view of P minus Indiana Jones hat, tossed back in gay abandon:

And from the top:

To my left

And to my right

And so to Palo Duro, the Grand Canyon of Texas which is like saying Blackpool Tower, The Eiffel Tower of Lancashire.

A  new campsite below Fortress Cliff:

The sunset continued to blow me away

I almost dropped the camera when this thing let out a huge gobble and ran towards me.

Close up and rampant (ooh missus) it is the same height as me.

The point in coming to Palo Duro was not just to admire beautiful plumage but to do a Virginia Woolf. Initially a 5 mile round trip to the Lighthouse (get it yet).  A giant one of these

or this

They are known as Hoo Doos and the rock sitting on top is literally a Caprock...in Caprock Canyons much of the caprock has eroded unlike here.

Thank goodness that on this day the cloud had sucked up the intensity of sun in one whole gulp

There is no water in the canyon. And there are no comments on what passes for a Year 3 attempt at a map, about a steep and rugged last half mile. On which we encountered Thelma and Louise from Dallas:

Whose idea of finding their way around is to ring a husband, get him to Google Map destinations for them and then ring back with the answer. Like they can tell him where they are in the first place and there is always a signal.

We made it.

Then we discovered you can go further and walk between the two rocks.

Just to the left of P is an 80 foot drop. I negotiated this bit facing the wall and clinging to the red rock and the desperate notion that it would not just crumble away in my hand leaving my voice and my nails to scream in tandem as plunged into the canyon below. It obviously got to P because at one point he was convinced someone had parked a car just below....

And this is the view from the platform between the two hoo doos:

Proof we was there.

This is other side of the canyon.

Then it came time to come back down...feet and bum the only way

This was almost my last photograph as a young texan with a dog that should have been on a leash careered down and then found she couldn't stop and regarded me as a safety barrier with the same value to the rest of the world as a crash dummy.  No apology, nothing just a blank no-one home stare. The second child in this blog to come close to a good slap.

We decided to do the rest of the round canyon walk and this is me appropriately at Hully Gully.

11 miles later we were in the Visitors Centre over looking all that we had walked from a spectacular panorama window, serenaded by music to hang yourself to from Wichita's answer to Willie Nelson only he was a native American Indian in a poncho. And the "rest" were all in there too:

The military policman from New York who loved Texas and was never going back, well not unless he couldn't pay for the entire shelf of glass ornaments he proceeded to  knock to the ground.

And yet another character from Deliverance who on overhearing us rushed over with his girlfriend who we presume he had met on the Internet  via Mismatch.com, each using someone else's photograph on their profile as she was Nebraska's answer to Hattie Jacques and he was the diminutive, toothless, almost hairless Not so Quick Draw McGraw. An ageing  lovesick puppy convinced his amour could be the first female president as:

- she's so 'telligent, she's a teeeecherrrrrr.

President in waiting fluttered her eyelashes, blushed but only momentarily lost for words:

 - I'm sorry I don't quite quite recognise your accent, which part of the British Empire are you from?

But it's not just in Texas

When I escape from our friend Bryan's Bide a Wee Rest Home for the Seriously Bewildered I plan to be the one in the middle.....xx