Jim & Ginny Are Rolling!

St. Louis is a case-study for the charms and problems of a 21st-century American city.

One hundred years ago, St. Louis was the fifth-largest city in the country.  As recently as the 1960’s, it was one of the 10 largest cities in America.  Now its population is less than half of what it was in the 1960’s and smaller than it was in the 1880’s.  With barely 300,000 people, the city comprises only 10% of the population of metropolitan St. Louis – most major cities account for at least 25% of their metro areas.

Located on the Mississippi River, St. Louis grew up as a transportation and manufacturing hub.  Thirty years ago, it was the headquarters of Anheuser-Busch, Purina, Missouri Pacific Railroad, McDonnell Douglas and TWA.  All now have been merged into bigger national or international firms – good for shareholders, bad for cities.

The effect of this has devastated the tax base of the city.  St. Louis now has the highest per capita murder rate of any U.S. city and the 13th-highest murder rate of any city in the world.

And yet…

The Gateway Arch is as American icon (and features a spiffy new visitors center that opened earlier this month).  

Forest, Park, on the western edge of downtown, is huge, vibrant and beautiful.

There are neighborhoods in the city itself and in adjacent towns such as Clayton with street after street of grand 100-year-old houses.

Washington University is one of the nation’s most respected research universities and its medical school is consistently ranked among the 10 best in the country.

And for us, the best reason to visit St. Louis over the weekend was to see Dee and Anne Cross.  Dee is my stepbrother, although we never met each other until last December.  It would be an understatement to say we’ve hit it off while dealing with all our recent parent-related family matters.  Dee is a neuroradiologist and Anne is a neurologist.  They moved to St. Louis after medical school and are happily dug into the community.  Their son, Kevin, is a neurosurgical resident at WashU.

We had a wonderful dinner at the first Italian restaurant we’ve been to since we hit the road (not sure how Kevin missed being in the below pic, as he was with us for dinner)…

capped off by dessert at Ted Drewes,  a local institution – it’s in St. Louis and it serves frozen custard, but it reminded us of Voodoo Doughnuts in Portland. 

We hit the road to Springfield, IL Sunday morning.  After some internet connectivity issues last night and this morning, we’ll have some things to say about Mr. Lincoln next time.

The Eisenhower Presidential Library in Abilene, Kansas and the Truman Presidential Library in Independence, Missouri are only 165 miles apart.  The stretch of Interstate 70 connecting them is designated the Eisenhower-Truman Presidential Highway.  In addition to geography, these two great men have a surprising number of things in common.

They were the last two Presidents born in the 19th century – Truman in 1884, Ike in 1890.  They were born into and raised in modest means.  Truman’s parents were farmers in western Missouri; Ike’s father was a failed shopkeeper who then worked in a creamery in Abilene.

Both were Army men, and both barely made it into the military.  Truman was denied entry to West Point because of poor eyesight.  He then enlisted in the Army and passed the eye test on his second try by memorizing the eye chart.  Eisenhower won an appointment to Annapolis, but was refused admission because he was too old (20); he then was wait-listed for West Point and got in only when the man ahead of him failed his physical.

Both served in World War I, but, ironically, it was Truman, not Eisenhower, who saw combat in France.  Truman was an artillery officer.  Eisenhower, upon graduating from West Point in 1916, received administrative and training assignments despite his efforts to get combat duty.  Truman even out-ranked Eisenhower during the 1930’s – Truman was a Colonel in the Army Reserves, Eisenhower was stuck as a Regular Army Major for 16 years.  However, Ike became a Colonel in 1941 and rose to the rank of five-star General by the end of 1944!

Like Eisenhower’s father, Truman was a failed businessman.  His haberdashery in Kansas City tanked in 1921.  He then became a politician for the rest of his life, starting in the Pendergast machine in 1922.  He was elected to the U.S. Senate in 1934.

Eisenhower was a career soldier.  His big break was being assigned to the General Staff in Washington when America entered World War II, where he attracted the attention of the great General George C. Marshall.  In 1942, Ike was appointed Supreme Commander of the Allied Expeditionary Force in Europe, meaning he commanded not just all American troops in the war against Germany, but all allied forces, too.  He got the job as much for his political skills (e.g., managing the massive egos of field commanders such as Montgomery and Patton) as for his tactical abilities.

Truman also attracted the attention of a great man during WWII – Franklin D. Roosevelt.  He chaired a special Senate investigative committee on waste and corruption in the awarding of wartime government contracts.  FDR ended up picking Truman as his running mate in 1944.  When FDR died fewer than three months into his fourth term, on April 12, 1945, Truman became President of the United States – and Eisenhower’s Commander In Chief.

At that time, Eisenhower was far better known and more popular than Truman.  Germany surrendered less than a month after Truman became President, which made Ike a national hero.  General Eisenhower, not President Truman, was treated to a ticker-tape parade in New York when World War II ended.

From 1945 to 1948, Truman was regarded as a caretaker President.  Issues ranging from international Soviet aggression to domestic labor strife made Truman unpopular.  “To Err Is Truman” was a national punchline.

In 1948, Truman approached Eisenhower and offered to serve as Vice President if Ike would run for President as a Democrat.  Eisenhower declined.  In a political upset as shocking at the time as Trump beating Clinton was 68 years later, Truman defeated Thomas Dewey in the 1948 election.  Had Dewey won, Eisenhower probably never would have run for President – he would have been 66 years old by the time Dewey had run twice.  Truman’s victory set up Eisenhower to run for President in 1952 (as a Republican).  Ike won and served two terms that were nearly as momentous as Truman’s.  Think of everything that happened during those 16 years when they led the country – the end of World War II, the start of the nuclear age, the onset of the Cold War, the Marshall Plan to rebuild Europe, the creation of Israel, Korea, McCarthyism, the interstate highway system, the start of the modern civil rights movement, the space race and much more.

Speaking of Korea, that war drove a wedge between Truman and Eisenhower.  On Inauguration Day, 1953, Eisenhower waited in the car instead of paying the obligatory courtesy call on the incumbent President at the White House (before the incoming and outgoing Presidents rode to the Capitol for the swearing-in ceremony) because he and Truman were so at odds over Korean policy.

Truman famously kept a sign on his Oval Office desk saying, “The Buck Stops Here.”  Eisenhower had a equivalent sign (in Latin) on his desk saying, “Gently In Manner.  Strong In Deed.”   Neither adage is currently operative in the White House.  

We drove to Kansas from Nebraska Monday, all on back roads.  We didn’t see a single nationally-franchised business of any kind – even a gas station – during the 150-mile trip.

When we got to Abilene (a town of about 6,500), we were disappointed to discover that the museum portion of the Eisenhower Library is closed for renovations.  We still enjoyed touring the rest of the complex, including Ike’s boyhood home…his Library (which is temporarily set up to include a few artifacts from the Museum, but I couldn’t help but feel that what was being shown barely scratched the surface of the WWII goodies that will again be on display in 2019)…  and a magnificent statue of Ike, the base of which lists his five most significant positions, including being Supreme Allied Commander of NATO, one of the greatest international alliances in the history of the world (despite recent ignorant tweets to the contrary)… plus we watched two thoughtful films of Ike’s life, highlighting his common decency and his skills in patience and diplomacy.  

On our trip Wednesday to Kansas City, we pulled off the Eisenhower-Truman Presidential Highway long enough to visit the Oz Museum in Wamego, KS…where Ginny photobombed the Tin Man with a heart!

We spent Thursday morning at the Truman Library (in addition to all of the historical linkage between Eisenhower and Truman, they share the unfortunate fate of their libraries having been designed in the 50’s, the worst architectural period in the nation’s history)… and family home in Independence (a gritty old suburb a few miles east of Kansas City).

The Truman Library/Museum is full or photos, artifacts and, somewhat surprisingly, a lot of de-classified secret documents from Truman’s presidency.  Touring the family house was an unexpected delight.  It remains exactly as it was during Harry’s and Bess’s retirement years.  That gave us a vague sense of being in our grandparents’ houses.  It’s also eerily powerful to walk the sidewalks outside the house and recall the famous photos of President Truman walking those very sidewalks during the 20 years after he left the White House.  The house is special, and our experience there was enhanced by having a fantastic tour guide, Norton, a National Parks ranger.  

By the way, it’s a rather grand house.  It was the family house of Bess Wallace Truman, who came from a family of well-to-do entrepreneurs in Independence.  Bess’s parents didn’t approve of her courtship by a farm boy.  Harry had to propose to Bess three times before she said yes.  The house didn’t pass into the Truman family until the death of Bess’s mother in 1952 (less than two months before the end of Truman’s tenure in the White House).

We’ll head to St. Louis Saturday to see my stepbrother, Dee Cross, and his wife Anne.  After that, we’ll turn north to Springfield, IL to visit with Mr. Lincoln, then it’s on to Iowa to visit with Mr. Hoover (there was a time when it could be said that those two were the best-to-worst spectrum of Republican Presidents…we’ve been past that time for a lamentably-long while now).

Saturday concluded our two-week Habitat For Humanity volunteer gig, helping build a house in Brookings, South Dakota for a wonderful family, the Khalafs.

Our motivation for this was to make sure that our journey isn’t just about us.  Ginny discovered the Habitat Care-A-Vanners, who are RVers who either travel around to do this or do this as they travel around.

Our team included three other couples and three single men.  Home states included Washington, Colorado, Minnesota and Florida.  For one couple, the Moriartys, Habitat builds are what they do full-time.  Bill is a retired general contractor.  He has that gene I don’t have for knowing how things work.  He didn’t finish high school, but he’s a born teacher – he can tell you what to do, how to do it and why it needs to be done that certain way.  He would be the greatest expert witness any construction litigator could ever hope to put on the stand.

Any group the size of ours is going to include some interesting personalities, and our’s was no exception.  By the end of the build, we understood why two weeks is the maximum gig for Care-A-Vanners.  Nevertheless, we shared many good times and everyone pulled together and got a lot done on that house.

The work was hard, frequently educational and always rewarding.  The main reason it was so rewarding is that the family we were building for is remarkable.

The Khalafs are Egyptian.  They fled their country about 15 years ago, first living in Germany and now having settled in Brookings.  Both parents have post-graduate degrees.  They have four exceptional children.  All of them are bright, kind and hard-working.  They are the type of people who make any country they live in a better place.

After three(!) weeks in South Dakota, it’s time to get moving again.  In five minutes Sunday morning, we crossed two state borders – Iowa…

…and Nebraska.

And in a Who Knew geography lesson, we learned there are three Sioux Cities – in South Dakota, Iowa and Nebraska. 

We’re spending Sunday night in Lincoln, Nebraska.  While running errands, I paid a quick sightseeing visit to the most important building on campus, Memorial Stadium.

Monday, we’re off to Abilene, Kansas, birthplace of Dwight Eisenhower and the home of his Presidential library.  He’s a fascinating man, full of contradictions.  For example, his smile was probably the greatest in the history of American politics, but the Kennedys nicknamed him The Old Asshole, based on their dealings with him during the transition after the 1960 election.  More insights await when we tour the library Tuesday!

By Jim.

My side-trip to Birmingham was a warm tribute to our family.

Monday afternoon, I flew out of Sioux Falls, SD, met Abby in Chicago and we flew to Birmingham together.

Thanks to others, our day Tuesday was as easy as one could hope for.  Back in January, Pete and JJ met me in Birmingham and did a lot of literal and figurative heavy-lifting in sifting through Mom’s things when she moved from the apartment she and DeWitte had shared into her much smaller skilled nursing unit.  Plus, DeWitte was one of the most organized people ever, and his diligent record-keeping and estate-planning set an example for all of us – such planning ultimately benefits your loved ones!  Things went so smoothly, Abby and I even had time for a driving tour of the old family houses in Crestline.

Tuesday night, at the newly-crowned James Beard Foundation Best Restaurant In America, Highlands Bar & Grill, Abby and I told tales about Mom and the rest of her remarkable grandparents and great-grandparents.

Speaking of great food, I also gorged myself twice on ribs during the trip at the legendary Dreamland, which is still true to its slogan, “Ain’t Nothin’ Like ‘Em Nowhere”.

After Abby flew home Wednesday, I went to Tuscaloosa, where a couple of you-know-you’re-old-when moments awaited me.  Moment #1 was meeting my lawyer for probating Mom’s will – the nephew of my dear friend, Bobby Wooldridge.  Moment #2 was attending the committee meeting for planning our law school class’s 40th reunion.

I indulged in some nostalgic sightseeing in Tuscaloosa, including visits to the law school…and the Center of the Football Universe,where I visited the plaque of “my” team (another looming 40th anny), which is on that walkway in the stadium pic.  The newest real estate trend in Tuscaloosa is luxury condos near Bryant-Denny Stadium  – seven figures for some of them, I’m told.  

My return trip Thursday came within 10 minutes of being routine, and 10 minutes of being a two-day bleepshow.  We descended through some nasty clouds as we landed in Sioux Falls.  Then, as we taxied to the gate, the bottom dropped out and (more problematic) the skies lit up.  The lightning meant the ground crew couldn’t operate the jetway, so we sat in the plane on the tarmac for an hour waiting for things to calm down.   Even when we got to the gate, we had to wait another hour to get the bags off.  Still, if the weather had started a few minutes sooner, the plane probably would have been diverted to somewhere else.  So when I got back to Brookings that night, I felt lucky.

On Friday, I finally reported for duty at our Habitat For Humanity job site, where Ginny had been working in my absence.

Brookings is a town of about 25,000 located in east-central South Dakota.  Our rigs are parked in the parking lot of an impressive local business called Larson Manufacturing, a window and door manufacturer with a modest national footprint.  We also have been given privileges to use Larson’s employee health club and we take walks through the adjacent Larson Park, donated to the city by the company.  It’s refreshing to see an organization resist the national trend of relentless “cost-cutting” worker-related benefits, and we’re grateful for their hospitality.

Ten of us are working at the project, all part of RV Care-A-Vanners, a sub-set of the remarkable Habitat For Humanity organization.  We’re working on a housefor a young couple who are immigrants from Egypt.   The work is hard, the sun is hot and the reward of contributing to this cause is satisfying (I’m even listening to Christian Rock , which is piped into the job site while we work).

We’ll be here another week, then head from the Great Plains into the Midwest.

By the way, speaking of family, Happy Birthday this July 15 to my son, Pete, and son-in-law, Clark Rosensweig!!

My mother, Margaret Lay Cross, passed away peacefully on the morning of July 6.  Our trip will again pause while I go to Birmingham to tend to arrangements.

Mom was born and raised in Birmingham, and that’s the only place she ever really wanted to live.  She was Southern to her core.

However, she was a woman of action.  She didn’t just get a degree from the University of Alabama (where she met my dad), she put it to use.  When I was in grade school in Birmingham, she was a dietitian at a large hospital.  That made her the only full-time working woman in any of my friends’ families.

When we moved to California, she immersed herself in the local Newcomers Club, becoming its president, and worked for the local chapter of the American Heart Association.

In a family full of political junkies, she had meaningful accomplishments.  After she and Dad moved back to Alabama, she was elected as a delegate to the 1976 Republican National Convention.  Two years later, she was on the Alabama statewide ballot as the Republican nominee for Secretary of the State.  This was her campaign photo.

She was ahead of her time, in that Republicans didn’t start winning (then sweeping) Alabama statewide offices until the ’80s.  She stayed active in state Republican politics for a number of years after her run for office.

She was vivacious, feisty and opinionated.  She was a role model for me to fearlessly aspire to whatever I wanted to try to achieve.

She was a devoted grandmother to Pete, Abby and JJ, even though we all lived far away.  She made sure that every visit was a special occasion.

Mom and my dad divorced in 1981.  She met DeWitte Cross in 1996.  They married two years later and lived together happily in their golden years.  She bravely faced DeWitte’s passing earlier this year, but as illness overtook her, it became clear how much she missed him.

The celebration of her life will be intimate and family-centric (poignantly, she outlived all of her close friends).

She will be long remembered.

Coming out of East Yellowstone, Iz Too passed its first driving test – Sylvan Pass, 8,425 – with no sweat.

Shortly afterwards, we arrived in Cody, Wyoming, the home of Buffalo Bill and the Cody Stampede.

For us, it was the home of a cramped, isolated RV park several miles out of town.  Most RV parks have stores selling rig-related gear and area souvenirs.  This one has a gun store.

We went to the Cody Cattle Company show Friday night, which included dinner, music (the fiddle/mandolin player’s parts seemed suspiciously instrument-syched at times, but the guitar and bass players were great) and free tickets to the rodeo next door.  

During our hour at the rodeo, there were about five minutes of bronco-riding and calf-roping.  The rest of the time was spent listening to my-country-right-or-wrong rhetoric, endless plugs for sponsors and (especially) cringe-worthy humor from the public-address announcer.  The treatment of the animals was not our (especially Ginny’s) favorite experience of the trip.  

We awoke Saturday morning to pouring rain and a dog needing to go outside repeatedly due to her sensitive plumbing system.  

However, the skies brightened and we had an interesting afternoon at the Buffalo Bill museum.  The town of Cody was literally founded by Buffalo Bill, who was one of the greatest showmen of the late 19th/early 20th centuries.  

Sunday, we head east to South Dakota.  We’ll be at Mount Rushmore all week, then it’s on to Brookings for our Habitat For Humanity build starting next weekend.

By Jim & Ginny.

“However orderly your excursions or aimless, again and again amid the calmest, stillest scenery you will be brought to a standstill hushed and awe-stricken before phenomena wholly new to you. Boiling springs and huge deep pools of purest green and azure water, thousands of them, are splashing and heaving in these high, cool mountains as if a fierce furnace fire were burning beneath each one of them; and a hundred geysers, white torrents of boiling water and steam, like inverted waterfalls, are ever and anon rushing up out of the hot, black underworld.”  John Muir, 1898.

Every word is still true, 120 years later.

Everyone has heard of Old Faithful, but there are 465 active geysers in Yellowstone National Park in an average year, plus an estimated 10,000 geothermal “features.”

As we discovered, you can be driving through a green-treed forest along a clear stream… and, suddenly, there’s a “feature” – such as a formation of steaming, bubbling rocks and pools, in colors that look like a bad science fiction movie.

Monday, we explored (and marveled at) Porcelain Basin…

…which includes our favorite moment of the day, seeing a drab, fetid, bubbling cauldron of mud named “Congress Pool.”

Then there was  Mammoth Hot Springs…

which are only a couple of blocks from the town of Mammoth Springs, where we saw elk chilling on the village green.

Our last stop Monday was at the Artist Paint Pots (where we arrived after being in a traffic jam caused by a bison ambling down the road).

Tuesday, we discovered the other-worldly Midway Geyser Basin…

on our way to see Old Faithful,

and the Old Faithful Inn (that’s the clock that Dick Dysart helped restore, on the right!).

We also went to the north end of the park to Lake Yellowstone, where we saw not only a 136 square-mile lake… but a variety of geothermal pools emptying into it and percolating underneath it.

Then we had a big scenery shift, visiting the magnificent Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone River.  

That day, we also crossed the Continental Divide for the fifth time of our trip, but for the first time when we had enough warning to get a picture of it.  It’s the principal hydrological divide of the Americas, running from the Bering Strait to the Strait of Magellan.  To its west, watersheds drain into the Pacific Ocean; to its east, they drain into the Atlantic.  

Animals are an exciting part of sightseeing in Yellowstone.  Bison and elk are commonplace…

bears are seen occasionally (you have to look really hard here)

and wolves are rare.  No scarcity problems with mosquitos – they’re all over (as are their bites).  

Sadly, we had to say goodbye to Yellowstone and to Gwen and Coley on Wednesday.

Our trip to Yellowstone coincided with news that the Trump regime is going to allow mining of the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument in Utah.  It’s the largest “reversal” – i.e., rape – of national monument protections in U.S. history.  Trump previously announced, with characteristic dishonesty and disingenuousness, that this action would return control of the land “to the people, the people of all of the states, the people of the United States.”  In fact, the mining rights to Grand Staircase-Escalante were acquired by Glacier Lake Resources Inc. – a CANADIAN company.

Our national parks and natural monuments are part of America’s soul.  They are beloved – every park we’ve visited is teeming with visitors.  If you haven’t been to one, go.  If you’ve been to one, go to two more.  You will see the magnificent landscape and feel  an emotion that’s hard to describe.  The experience will change you.

Trump has made it clear by his words and deeds that he has no respect for the environment.  We must resist him and his steam shovel cronies with all our might.

Donate to the National Parks Foundation (www.nationalparks.org), or the Sierra Club (www.sierraclub.org/giving).  There are even things to do that are both fun and productive (https://www.backpacker.com/stories/10-ways-to-support-the-national-parks).

Most of all, VOTE this fall for candidates who will PROTECT our natural treasures.

By Jim.

All sagas have an occasional plot twist, right?

Here’s ours.

The seed was planted when we had Mike and Lisa Foster over to the rig for a drink in Jackson Hole a couple of weeks ago.  It was, shall we say, snug with the four of us in our “living room” space.  Then, when we were in Missoula a week later, our next-door neighbor Tracy, a delightful old gentleman, invited us over for a drink in his 42-foot-long rig with slide-outs on both sides.  We walked in and did a double-take – waaay more spacious.  

Last year, when we planned this trek, we weren’t sure we’d like RVing and we had no experience living in something like this.  Since we’ve hit the road, we’re loving what we’re doing and we’ve learned a lot about RV’ing and RVs.

Just for S&G’s, I called a couple of RV dealers to find out what The Iz would be worth in trade.  They both said we could get almost 90% of what we paid for it – pretty much a  do-over on our initial purchase.  With some down time ahead of us due to bad weather in Glacier, we went back to Missoula, where there’s a big RV dealer, and did some shopping.

We found exactly what we were looking for.  However, we found it online at a dealer in Bend, OR (yes, back to Bend!).  I contacted the dealer, did a tentative deal and made the two-day drive to Bend last weekend.  My route included going down the Columbia River Gorge, which would have taken me to Portland (and gotten a lot greener en route) if I hadn’t turned left and headed south to Bend a few miles after taking this pic.

Mount Bachelor was resplendent in Bend while I was there.After all the paperwork and dealer prep, I was back on the road back to Montana Thursday morning.  In the meantime, Ginny (plus Sting and Roxy) spent some quality time with Greg in Pullman, a big bonus for her since he couldn’t join us in Yellowstone as originally planned.She then resumed our itinerary without me by going to Livingston, MT to visit her uncle, Dick Dysart, and his utterly delightful wife, Priscilla.  They’re a renaissance couple (they headed to France the day after Ginny’s visit).  Coley joined them when she arrived Thursday.One of Dick’s life-long passions has been clocks.  

He even played a role in the restoration of the enormous clock at the Old Faithful Inn in Yellowstone.

I pulled into Bozeman, MT Friday afternoon in The Iz 2 (Too?  II?  Two?) – a new Tiffin Phaeton 40, as in 40 feet long (by comparison, the model number of the original Iz is 33 – the math is compelling).  As I refueled Friday, a trucker in the bay next to me said, “That’s a beautiful bus, Brother!”  Ah, instant validation.

It’s a pretty bitchin ride.

Fun fact – Tiffin is an Alabama company.  Van, the son of the founder, kicked the most famous field goal in the history of the Alabama-Auburn rivalry in 1985…

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k2z8-i2YYQg

…and his son, Leigh, kicked for the 2009 National Champions.  They now run the eponymous VanLeigh division of Tiffin, which produces fifth-wheeler trailers.  Not incidentally, Tiffin is the consensus RV industry leader in quality.  We’ve already learned from a couple experiences, including The Steps Caper, how important reliability is.

I arrived in Bozeman just in time for a rollicking dinner with the Dokkens family, former across-the-street neighbors in Weston of Ginny, Gwen and Coley.

Saturday, we made the beautiful 90-mile drive to the west entrance to Yellowstone National Park, where we (including Gwen and Coley) will be until Wednesday.

The town of West Yellowstone, where we’re staying, is as nice a tourist town as we’ve ever seen.  And it has traffic signs you don’t see every day.

Glacier National Park and Waterton National Park, its Canadian counterpart across the border they share (no Wall between them…yet), were designated in 1932 as the world’s first International Peace Park.  Ironically, we arrived there as Donald Trump was tweeting insults at Canadian Prime Minister Trudeau after the infamous G-7 conference.

We repeated our de facto drill when we arrive at a national park – first-day driving tour, second-day dog-friendly hike and a serious hike on the third day.

Lake McDonald, located just inside the park’s western entrance, gives the place a powerful first impression.  The lake is 10 miles long and 500 feet deep.

We were only able to drive a few miles past the lake, because the famous Going To The Sun Road is closed due to snow.  In June.

So we settled for lunch at the Lake McDonald Lodge, one of the hotels built throughout the park 100 years after the War of 1812 (there’s no evidence that Canada has ever tried to burn them down) by the Great Northern Railway to promote tourism.  Their designs mimic Swiss chalets and were supposed to be the centerpiece of the railroad’s vision of promoting Glacier as “America’s Switzerland.”  We ate Montana food (elk) and drank California wine – sorry, Great Northern (which long ago merged into Burlington Northern anyway).

While driving out of the park, we had our first bear sighting.  Ginny was beside herself with excitement, but fortunately she stayed beside me…in the Jeep. 

As we drove to our hike Wednesday morning, we noticed cars suddenly pulling off the road.  Luckily for us, we followed the crowd.  We walked down to the edge of Lake McDonald, which was perfectly still and provided us these stunning mirror images.

Our hike Wednesday was to Avalanche Lake, so named because it’s at the foot of a bowl of mountains, and snow slides down the mountains into the lake during wintertime.  
One striking feature of the terrain on the hike was the large number of fallen trees in the woods near the trail.  

We asked a park ranger about this (wondering if it was due to some tree blight or other disease) and were told this is a natural phenomenon, and all the park does is keep the trails clear and remove any trees or debris that could endanger visitors.  The Park Service has a little unfinished clean-up business adjacent to the trail we were on!

Many of the parts of Glacier we wanted to see were affected by the recent snow, so we weren’t there as long as we’d planned.  However, it’s prominent on our list of places to return to!

By Jim.

Jackson Hole, Wyoming seems to have been custom-made for sightseeing and recreation.  

The Grand Tetons form the area’s western border; the Gros Ventre Range is to the east.  They frame the “Hole” – a lush valley that is virtually flat and punctuated by the Snake River.  The combination of rugged mountains and tabletop valley almost looks fake, it’s so perfect and pronounced.

There’s a lot of pleasure to pick from, including horseback riding, golf, fly-fishing, biking and hiking, plus great restaurants and a pretty good brewpub.  The winter skiing is reportedly superb (we even encountered some skiers Sunday, who had gotten themselves up the mountain we were hiking to ride some of the remaining snow).

Our five days there weren’t enough to do everything that’s available, but we had a blast trying.   Our only disappointment was never seeing an elk or a moose (or squirrel, or Boris or Natasha…I blame Trump), except some droppings during our hikes.

Sunday, we drove through an elk refuge in the valley up to the Gros Ventres.  Snow blocked the trail, preventing us from getting to the top, plus we forgot to bring bug spray, so when things started sounding like a Luftwaffe attack around us, we headed back down.  That didn’t stop us from admiring the Tetons (and the ski trails, carved out of the trees) across the valley.

After our hike, we explored the town of Jackson, which has everything from arches of elk horns…to tourist bars…to a municipal softball field with its own Green Monster.  The little ski mountain literally abuts the street grid in downtown Jackson – imagine being able to ski on your lunch hour!

Monday, we continued disrupting the vacation of Mike & Lisa Foster by teeing it up with them near Teton Village.  That’s Mike’s Sparty head cover photo-bombing the pic, trying unsuccessfully to extract some revenge for the 2015 Sugar Bowl shutout.

In additional to Spartans and the Crimson Tide, there were Beavers on the course.

Tuesday, we did a serious hike around Jenny Lake in Teton National Park.  (Yosemite spoiled us for waterfalls – this one was relatively ho-hum.)

Wednesday, we got in some downtime.

Thursday, we got out of our comfort zone (literally and figuratively) and went horseback riding.  The poor  horses must get bored having to plod around carrying city-slickers.

Friday, we said goodbye to Jackson Hole and Wyoming and headed to Montana – our tenth state of the trip, so far.  We’ll be back in Wyoming later this month, after Yellowstone and on our way to Mount Rushmore.

After spending a couple of relatively quiet days in Missoula (we’re getting our first rain of the trip since early April), we’ll head north around the magnificent Flathead Lake, the Lake Tahoe of Montana (image courtesy of Google)…

and up to Glacier National Park.