Day 5 - There's Gold in Them Thar Hills

 Alpine, WY to Jackson, WY and the Grand Tetons

Today marks the first day of the trip where we didn't have a place to be. There were places we wanted to be! But we didn't have to grind out another long leg of driving... Until today we've averaged nine hours per to get to this point. But today? Leisure. At long last...

White line fever is a real thing. Driving what feels like countless hours down long highways through the vastness of this amazing country will wear you down. It's not a complaint! Just a fact...The constant need for attention to the road and its surroundings can leave you exhausted by day's end, and even then, before closing your eyes for the night there's a persistent hum living in your head that you cannot shake until falling deeply to sleep. At least that's my experience, and save for long-haul truckers I'm confident I drive more, and farther, than most people. At least these days.

Driving for me represents a sort of therapy. An opportunity to escape the day to day challenges and heaviness life so often brings, and instead represents a reason for me to NOT focus on those things... Because when I'm driving, I am focused on the road. All priorities shift to the operation of the vehicle - whatever it may be - and a side effect is that it your troubles take a back seat while your attention is set on a horizon you can never seem to reach. Pardon the pun.

Still, it is nice to finally make your destination, too. It's long been said that it's not the destination, it's the journey, right? I couldn't agree more! But four days hauling ass in a motorhome straight through the middle of the country will leave you wanting more than anything the reason for the travel. In our case it was to reach the Northern Rocky Mountains. 

Well, we made it. At least as far as Alpine and Jackson, Wyoming, which is among the most beautiful landscapes I've ever seen. Moreover, this is not the first time we've been through this part of the country. Conor and I came through Jackson on our way to Yellowstone when we were on our Healing Road journey three years ago. Though he's kerfuffled ever since about not stopping at the Grand Tetons National Forest, so we made it a priority this time around.

Conor was right to kerfuffle.

Given the proximity of the two parks to one another, those being Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons, they offer two vastly different experiences. The Grand Tetons are a haven for active, outdoor, and adventuresome folks. In seemingly every direction there is some version of an action sport. Be it cycling, horseback riding, white water rafting, hiking trails of all levels of experience, 4x4 side-by-side buggies, Jeep and Bronco expeditions, you name it, it's happening here. 

For the Three Amigos, we chose to take a drive to Jackson Hole and then onto Jenny Lake in the Grand Teton National Park. Both are situated at the base of the Tetons and offer spectacular views from the valley floor, both up toward the mountains, as well as out toward the rolling foothills and brushy meadows surrounded by alpine trees, spruces, sage brush, and wild flowers. We ultimately found ourselves taking a mile and a half hike through a meadow and up a significantly steeper grade than any of us were prepared to walk, though most certainly me and K9.

In an earlier post I noted that K9 is eighty-one years old; he reminded me today that he's in fact, eighty-two years old. And while he is in exceptional health - especially for his age - he's not conditioned to go on a hike that turns into a climb before leveling out on a plateau. And then there's my own challenges in that it still wasn't even a year ago I had my right knee replaced.

Now, in truth, I could have continued on, but I'd be lying if I told you that by the end of the hike my knee hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. The reality is, I wouldn't have made it out of the parking lot this time last year, my limp so severe that grocery shopping was a chore. Now? On level ground I could walk for miles. Throw in some questionable footing and a rocky trail and I'm still good for a couple of miles, but if I don't have Ibuprofen on hand at the end of the day, I'm gonna pay for it.

All that's to say, we didn't finish the hike. Not anticipating the incline, and considering the troop on the trail, nobody was interested in ruining the rest of he trip due to an otherwise avoidable injury. And as fate would have it, our return to Big Booty Judy coincided with a rain storm that would last several hours, too, so really, we were fortunate to have turned back when we did.

Back in the RV and headed toward camp, we collectively made the decision to pull into a saloon and have a couple of beers and a bite to eat, vs. heading back to camp to setup all over again and cook in the chilly mountain rain. With a couple of Coors Yellow-Jackets and Conor with a root beer, K9 gave a toast, "To the Three Amigos". That simple toast made any weariness from the road or tightness in my rebuilt knee all but vanish. Worth every second, in fact. Because I know what this trip represents to each of us... Each man in his own phase of life. 

These are absolutely priceless days, uncommon as they are. And that's the gold... Our bond made stronger still for the memories we create, and the love we all share while making them.

And the Party Never Ends...