7/5/15, “The Audible”
En route, US-287 N, Montana
It seems that every big summer trip I take entails me calling an
audible. To my readers who are not
familiar with American football, and audible is when the quarterback changes
the play because of conditions on the field.
In my travels, it means changing my itinerary based on things going
differently than planned, either for better or worse. My astute reader will notice from the
dateline that I am no longer in Yellowstone, and we are instead bound for
Helena. We were not supposed to get to
Helena until lunchtime tomorrow. Instead,
we called an audible, and we will be at our hotel in Helena in about an
hour.
I suppose it would be in order to
recall these audibles. When I went on my
big Eurotrip in 2013, I had not planned to go to Copenhagen. My plan for Denmark was to go to the first
WHS over the border, stay at a nearby hotel, and then go back to Germany the
next morning. I had booked my hotel in a
town called Vejle or Jelling, depending on the translation, and I was prepared
to do that. The night before, I was
looking at the maps and thinking things through. I began to wonder if it would be possible to
visit Copenhagen. Could I work things
around, could I make it happen? In
truth, I just wanted to see that famous statue of the Little Mermaid. Ironically, one of my favorite people in the
world just posted on Facebook this morning a picture of herself next to that
famous statue, and I have been listening to and singing “Part of Your World”
for a significant portion of the day, but that’s not important right now.
What I am recalling is that, when I left New
York for Germany, I had not planned to include Copenhagen. It was not until that night that I even
considered it. I went to bed that night,
thinking that I wouldn’t be going to Copenhagen. However, I planned out the route anyway, just
in case. I called it the “Copenhagen
Option.” I suppose that what we
discussed last night and tonight would thereby be called the “Helena Option.” Anyone who wants to read my full entry on
Copenhagen is welcome to do so, just contact me for the text, since it is not
published online. Anyway, what happened
was, I had that chart on my phone, the itinerary for how the Copenhagen Option
would play out. The deal I made with
myself was that I would continue to Copenhagen if I could get to the Little
Mermaid statue in time to take a picture before dusk. In the end, I made it by less than five
minutes. “Wandering free, wish I could
be, part of your world.” During that
trip, I truly was wandering free. I
wanted to call an audible, I did.
The audibles
we called in Alaska last summer were due to circumstances out of our
control. We had to do a couple of
National Parks on a different day because of weather, we had to spend a night
at Coldfoot because our car got stuck in the mud, stuff like that. Sure, we had flexibility built into our
schedules, and it was not all negative audibles. There were days when we finished our
activities in half the time we had allotted, so we changed things up, or the
night we unexpectedly spent in Copper Center.
Those were good audibles.
Then
came tonight, the “Helena Option.” We
were only half serious when we discussed it last night. We would be finishing up our day today at the
north end of the park, which meant we’d have to double back, a total of three
hours of driving tonight and tomorrow morning, to go back to our hotel and on
to Helena. It meant that we would not
get to Helena until lunchtime tomorrow and not get to our hotel by Glacier
National Park until very late tomorrow night.
At breakfast, we more seriously considered the option, thinking of the
logistics. It would mean forfeiting our
hotel room and having to pay for a night at the Hampton Inn in Helena, but we’d
save money on food and gas. We’d shake
everything up a bit, but it’d cut back on the driving, and it would make our
time at Glacier much easier. My mother
basically left it up to me to decide.
After breakfast, I went back to my cabin while she finished up some emails. I went to the bathroom and then walked out my
cabin to see my mother walking towards the cabins. “Let’s do it,” I announced. We hurried to pack. It wasn’t a sure thing, yet, and we didn’t
check out of the hotel or make a new reservation in Helena. It was still an option, but it was coming
closer and closer to reality. We took
everything we needed so that we could just continue north after I got my last
stamps. There were still so many
variables, and it felt like Copenhagen all over again. Until we got the last stamp, there was still
a possibility of turning around. I did
not book my hotel in Copenhagen until I took my picture at the WHS in Vejle and
decided I would make the Copenhagen option a reality. Today, we decided to make the “Helena Option”
a reality. How did that play out? Well, I’ll write that portion when we get
there.
While Helena may certainly be “my kind of town,” my mother is
certainly in no hurry to say the same.
Mark Twain might have famously quipped that “comparison is the
thief of joy,” but I disagree. I get so much
pleasure from comparing things in my travels, from saying that Yellowstone
compared to the Grand Canyon in this way, Wrangell in that way, etc. What about Helena? Well, I suppose it reminds me more of Fargo
than any other place I have visited. I
loved Fargo, and I like it here. I
wouldn’t want to spend more than a night here, and I can hardly believe that
this is the capital of the third largest state in the country, but I like it
here. I’m glad we exercised the “Helena
Option.”
When we were discussing the
Helena Option, we never really considered anything other than the Hampton Inn,
which was kind of steep in terms of price.
When we stopped for dinner (more on that later), we looked up other
hotels. The closest one to the Capitol
was a place called Jorgenson’s Inn and Suites, but my mother objected, since it
was a chain hotel, and she had never heard of it. It was half the price, so I wasn’t sure why
she was objecting. We could even get two
rooms, so we wouldn’t disturb each other with disparate sleep schedules, and I
could even get a smoking room. It had a
4-star rating on Google. She still
objected without fully explaining her objection. It was her money, and her sleep schedule, so
I didn’t really care. It was just the
irrationality of it that bothered me.
She does not travel the way I do, and even staying in the cabin was a
stretch for her, but she managed.
Staying in a possibly seedy hotel was too much for her. It had good reviews. I was fine with it, but we kept the Hampton
Inn in our GPS.
I appear to have gotten
ahead of myself. We spent an epic day in
the park, and I have spent too much time recalling our discussion about a hotel
where we would spend less than 12 hours.
Before I recall the rest of the day, I will need to pause and pour
myself a stiff glass of bourbon.
Where did I leave off last night?
Right, I was publishing my entry and finishing my drink before
dinner. Well, dinner was a
disappointment, and I think it was 10:30 PM by the time we left, and I almost
fell asleep at the table. The food was
okay (good trout cakes and disappointing wild game Bolognese), but the service
was atrociously slow. The restaurant was
undercrowded and overstaffed, yet 9:15 PM was the earliest table we could get,
and I think it was close to 10 PM before we got any food. We went straight back to our cabins, and I
passed out almost immediately, no smoke, no dessert.
We went to breakfast, where I ordered almost
exactly the same thing as yesterday, only getting blueberry pancakes instead of
pecan. That was when we considered the
Helena Option. Once we packed, I made a
quick stop at the VC, and we made our way south. If we were to exercise the Helena Option, we
would first need to get seven stamps for Yellowstone NP, plus the stamp for the
Parkway. It was very ambitious. Fortunately, most of the stamps were
available until 8 PM, and most of the stamps were in a relatively straight
line. In fact, from the first stamp at
the south entrance to the last stamp at the north entrance, we really only
doubled back on maybe 15 miles of road, and we hit very little traffic. I was certain we’d really be pushing it to
get to last stamp by 8 PM and feel short of time, constantly rushing my mother
to get moving.
In fact, it was the opposite,
with her rushing me so that we wouldn’t get to Helena too late. This was the day with the things she wanted
to do, all the stops were the scenic vistas that interested her most. Not to say I didn’t want to do them all, just
that these stops were more interesting to her than yesterday’s were. We quickly made our way to the south
entrance, where I got the stamp at the Snake River Ranger Station. Okay, for the purpose of this entry, I am
going to refer to every place that had a stamp as a VC, whether it is a
Visitors’ Center, Ranger Station, Information Center, or Bookstore. After I got my stamp, we had to proceed two
miles down the road to the Flagg Ranch VC, which served as the VC for John D.
Rockefeller, Jr. Memorial Parkway. The
parkway was its own NPS unit, which meant I couldn’t just get a stamp. I needed to treat it as a separate unit,
which meant it needed a cigar. We left
the VC area, and I lit up a Las Calaveras and took a ceremonial picture
alongside the parkway. I smoked it with
my head out the window for the two miles we drove back up to the park, then let
it extinguish naturally.
Our next stop
was the VC at Grant Village. There was
not much to see there, though they had all sorts of lodging and services, and I
got my stamp. West Thumb VC, a couple of
miles more up the road was where they had the interesting vistas and
walks. I got my stamp, and we took a
ceremonial picture with the hot springs, but I couldn’t get close with my
cigar. I found a nice wooded trail
nearby, so I walked that trail, while my mother went down to see the hot
springs. The trail ended almost as soon
as it began, but it was secluded, and I got to finish my cigar.
We got back on the road and headed up to Lake
Village, where we got lunch, an experience onto itself, between the slow line
for paninis and my mother getting overcharged.
I had Wi-Fi, nothing else mattered. The best views and walks would be near the VC
at Fishing Bridge, a couple miles up. We
headed there after lunch. They had an
auto repair place, a VC, and the eponymous bridge (which no longer allowed
fishing) where there were great views.
We figured we would spend about an hour there. After I got my stamp, I lit up my Cabaiguan,
and we made our way to the bridge, stopping at the auto repair place.
I went into the office, where I saw a woman
on the phone, standing up, and a man sitting down. I walked in, and the man shushed me and then
walked into the garage with me. Okay,
that was odd. I asked him what he new
about fuel gauges. He didn’t, but he was
just a tourist. Oops. He told me that the mechanics would be back
soon. I walked outside, and my mother
and I were going to go to the bridge and come back. The mechanic showed up almost immediately, so
I asked him what he knows about fuel gauge.
“They go down when the gas goes down,” he smartly answered. “What if they don’t go down when the gas goes
down?” I shot back. I explained what
happened, and he confirmed our suspicion.
The fuel gauge was fucked up from overfilling the tank. Oh well.
We headed to the bridge, where we took our ceremonial pictures, enjoying
the nice views of the river.
I finished
my cigar, and we headed to Canyon, worried that we were fighting a losing
battle against the approaching thunderstorm.
This was where Yellowstone Falls was, the Grand Canyon of the
Yellowstone, the thing my mother had been talking about seeing all trip. By the time we got to the VC, she was just
wanted to get some ice cream, and start to make our way to Helena. I insisted that we at least see the falls,
but first we did get our ice cream, which was quite good, and then we headed to
the trail head. I lit up a Heisenberg,
fittingly since we still didn’t know if we were exercising the Helena
option. The next stamp was a bit of an
uncertainty. This trail had the best
views of the park, but my mother was more concerned with making sure I didn’t
fall off a cliff and how late we would be getting to Helena. We only did about half the trail and took our
ceremonial pictures before heading back.
We had managed to avoid the rain for the most part, but the rain hit us
almost as soon as we got on the road, making the drive to the buffalo ranch
kind of treacherous. We had seen a
couple of buffalo along the road as we drove to Canyon, but we saw so many
more, including a herd with puppies, as we drove through the Lamar Valley to
the Buffalo Ranch. It truly brought
everything together, and it would have been disappointing if we left without
seeing any buffalo. Okay, so this stamp
at Buffalo Ranch. They have a gift shop
there, but it’s only open on request.
You need to go to the bunkhouse to ask someone to open it for you. I’m not the only person who goes there just
for the stamp, but it was kind of sketchy and uncertain.
We found the ranch with minimal difficulty,
enjoying the vastly different landscapes we saw for this portion of the drive,
but it was pouring out when we got there.
I ran to the bunkhouse, walked in, and announced, “I’m here for the
stamp.” There was no doubt or confusion
there. This was a regular thing for
them. He said he would open the
bookstore for me. I ran back to the car,
gave my mother a thumbs up, the meaning of which could not be doubted, either,
and grabbed my brochure and folder, and ran to the bookstore. I overinked the stamp and had some difficulty
getting a clean stamp, but it worked out okay in the end. I got the stamp. That was what mattered.
It was slightly after 5 PM, and we would not
get to the north entrance until after 6 PM, but he said they were open there
until 8 PM. That would be the last
stamp. If we got that stamp, we’d
continue to Helena. If not, well, we
might have to audible the audible. We
stopped at Mammoth on the way out of the park so that I could take another
ceremonial picture at the Plaque and so that my mother could go the bathroom, which
was convenient, since the Plaque was unceremoniously next to the bathroom.
We then went to the north entrance, where the
VC looked to be under construction. Oh
no. After all this, the last stamp, it
wouldn’t be open? No, it was just closed
off partially, but the building was open, and I walked in and found the
stamp. This was it, the 14th
and final stamp. I stamped my brochure
took some ceremonial pictures of the fully stamped brochure. It’s possible it’s the only one in existence,
the only brochure stamped with all 14 stamps.
Actually, it may very well be. I
then took some more pictures with the brochure with the Roosevelt Arch in the
background. On to Helena. I wrote a proposal as we drove from Gardiner
to Livingston, where we stopped at McDonald’s for dinner. I wrote another proposal after we left, and
then proceeded to write the earlier entry once we turned onto US-287. After I finished, we called my father and updated
with the details of our day. He asked if
we had any good meals this trip. We
couldn’t say that we had, other than breakfast, really.
We said our goodbyes and were soon in Helena,
which was basically a bunch of hotels, restaurants, and casinos alongside the
road. There was a noisy train, and the
highway was noisy. The Hampton Inn would
not do for my light sleeping mother. I
could have slept in the car. In the end,
we wound up going to Jorgensen, and it was half an hour from the time we got to
the Hampton Inn to the time I was in my room in Jorgensen. I moved the big chair to spot looking out the
window and sat down, where I proceeded to write this entry, which I will now
close so that I can publish and get some sleep.
Tomorrow will be a long day, but not as long as it would have been if we
had started from Old Faithful, four hours south of here. As it is, we might even hit a VC or two at
Glacier NP tomorrow.
"herd with puppies"
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