Well, I never thought we would wind up here. I’m writing the words that you are now reading in a lean-to, staring at a fledgling campfire as Marc prepares to roast marshmellows, with a (juniper?) tree immediately behind it. The tree’s three branches bend; two at a 30 degree angle with the ground and one at a 10 degree angle. This due to the fact that there is a roaring stream that, I’m sure, floods often enough from the melting Rocky Mountain snow to be able to force a tree into a more horizontal angle.
Oh, and I forgot to mention that behind the stream there is a 300-500 foot canyon wall.
This is amazing.
We lucked out, to be honest. After leaving Devil’s Tower, we tried to make it as far as we could in the direction of the Tetons before we either got too tired or it got too dark.
Driving through Ten Sleep Canyon, dubbed so because it took “ten sleeps” to get there, we were astonished at the river that rolled through the bottom of this steep canyon. It was quite simply an incredible drive.
We pulled into the town of Ten Sleep and saw that there only campground didn’t appease our adventurous spirit.
The locals must know where to go, we thought. So we pulled into a gas station and asked the cashier.
“I don’t know!” she said.
Marc got the impression that she rarely left this town of 308 people. She thought that there might be one up the way we came, but how far, she didn’t dare guess. She did, thankfully, inform Marc that there was nothing in the other direction. And so we saw a group of guys walking down the street and asked them.
“Hey, Levi!” one of them said and repeated our question to him. I only mention this because I love the fact that this guy’s name was Levi. A 20-year-old kid whose voice probably stopped squeaking just in time for McCain’s presidential ambitions to be stunted came over to the car and he told us to go back the route we came and we would have plenty of options by the fisheries.
And that’s how we landed here. We pulled into a campground that was barely discernable from the surrounding forest. There was already one camper in the entire site and so we struggled to figure out if there were any sites left. We looked down a dirt path and wondered whether our car would fit down it and if it did, if we would be able to get back out.
After walking it out, we realized that we could have access to a spot near the stream. With the sunlight nearly gone, we quickly sprang into action. Marc started to cook dinner (Mac’N’Cheese with hot dogs – a quintessential campfire food), while James quickly set up the tent. Both were done in record time and we quickly shoveled the food into our mouths so we could do the dishes while there was still light.
So now, our goals for the evening are to burn out the dry wood that we still have in the campfire and, most importantly, practice the art of roasting the perfect marshmellow. Thankfully, due to our only purchase at Wall Drug earlier this morning, we have marshmellow forks that extend and, with the twist of the knob at the handle, turn without you having to rotate your hand.
Life is good.
