The Long and Winding Road: Part 2
Onward after Bryce, we hightailed it to Salt Lake City where we spent the night next to an Air Force Base. Early to rise, I took the helm and drove from SLC to Idaho Falls. We eventually passed through a mountain town named Jackson Hole and into Grand Teton National Park.
My boss's boss is what the Natives call a National Park Expert and he told me that Grand Teton was named by French fur-trappers who noticed the three most recognizable mountain peaks looked like large bosoms. Oh those hornorific French bastards.
We didn't spend any time in the Grand Boobs. We simply drove right through it to the southern entrance of Yellowstone.
Yellowstone is freakin' huge. There are several spots of touristy interest, but they are all spaced out very much; so much that it requires an hour plus drive just to see these places. It was getting dark, so we made one small stop at... where else... Old Faithful.
When we got there, the glorious geyser was just about ready to blow. They have seats around the entire perimeter, but there was not many people at all. When it finally blew, we snapped many pictures and Tricia Takanawa even gave a live report.
After, we were starving and poked into the Old Faithful Lodge for dinner, which was not very good but not bad. When we were ready to head on out, we found that it was pouring outside. Ellvin Kelvin pulled the car up and we headed very scarily down the mountain to our hotel in West Yellowstone. But seriously, we were all on edge for that drive because visibility was nil and Ellvin Kelvin was driving sorta briskly.
So the next two days, we conquered the park. We visited the Mammoth Hot Springs, Tower Falls, Lower Falls, Upper Falls, Grand Prismatic Springs, and honestly, there wasn't that much to see for a place so big. In order to enjoy Yellowstone in all its glory, you need to do some camping and hiking, but it was too wet for that during our stay.
After a heart attack scare involving Grandpa K and an eerily shivering cold Grandma K, we left Yellowstone much to their enjoyment and drove a whopping 10 hours through Casper and Cheyenne. I was at the helm late at night and took us to within 80 miles to Denver, our destination, when we thought it best to find a hotel to rest at. Otherwise, we would have strolled into Denver at around 2am with nowhere to go.
The first hotel we tried had no vacancies. And the lady at the front, who was flirting with a cleaning guy, was nice enough to tell us that there were absolutely no hotels in the area with rooms available. Our best bet, she said, was to head back 20 minutes from the direction we came from and check a no-name motel.
"Piss off, fatty," replied I and Father Routes and I wheelbarrowed outta there.
We jumped back on the highway towards Denver and pulled over at the sight of the next cluster of hotels. We pulled into a Comfort Inn and boom! were hooked up with the last room for $90. And whatta room it was! It was like staying at the White House. And whatta cliffhanger!
To Be Continued.