Day Seven

We got a little earlier start today; we left our hotel at 7:30 with David presenting the morning devotional.  Our hotel was the most beautiful Hampton I have stayed in thus far. Actually, all our hotels on this trip have been nice, with updated bedding and comfortable beds.  Those shiny-on-one-side and natty-on-the-other-side bedspreads from yesteryear just don’t cut it with me.  None of those have been seen so far.

Irene performed some medical treatment for my one toe that got trod on yesterday. (I have new respect for her and Dave.  They've been forced into the role of house/bus parents for a bunch of crazy adults. They handle it with total competence and a lot of grace.) Carol and Karen patched up my toe yesterday when it was bleeding.  It was difficult to see exactly what the extent of the damage is because I can’t get my head as close to my feet as I once could.  Too many buffalo burgers I guess.  I might lose part of a nail but not sure yet. At least it doesn’t hurt if I don’t bump it.

In spite of the fact that I stayed up late playing Black Seven with some of the others, I was up early and raring to go.  Our major stop for the day was Glacier National Park for a bus ride up Going To The Sun Road.  It took three of the really cool-looking tour buses to load us all up the mountain and we were in the middle one.  As we found out later it was also the fun one.  But I expect nothing less with Marge in tow.

The Going to the Sun Road opened in 1933 and is an amazing feat of engineering with only one switchback in its fifty-mile length.  There were rangers with flashing blue lights congregated at one spot on the narrow road and we met an ambulance on its way up to the scene.  Later, back at the lodge, a medi-vac arrived to pick up whoever the ambulance had picked up.  Well before we reached the bottom, I saw a mini-van hit the low stone wall at the road’s outer edge and heard an impressive scraping.  This means they were about fifteen inches from sudden death.  Glad I wasn’t with them.

Lisa, our tour guide and driver, along with Marge and her shenanigans, kept our group in gales of laughter through the whole trip.  Lisa claimed she was only on paragraph one of her “guide schpeel” when we got back to the lodge.  Carol and I won the quiz contest; I cheated, Carol didn’t.  Well, to be fair, Karen was the one that kept sticking stickers on me so really I was a victim.  I scored some play dough which could prove interesting before the trip is over.

Lisa told us about the only bus that ever went over the side.  Back in the day when the drivers were college kids, a certain one had a request from a female friend to pick her up after work hours and deliver her somewhere she needed to be. Along the way he picked up several more friends and after dropping off the girl they returned the way they had come, “hitting every watering hole between here and there.”  He drove straight off a cliff at one of the curves, killing himself and permanently injuring his two companions.  The few pieces that were left of the unfortunate bus are on display at Jammer Joe’s.

Another tale she told was of one of the men helping to build the road.  His horse was loaded with explosives and they were on their way up the mountain when the horse lost its footing and went over the side.  Greatly saddened the man had no choice but to finish his work day before he could go search for the horse’s remains.  Since no explosions were heard he knew the carcass would be down below somewhere and when he was finally able to descend that evening, what should he find but his beloved horse, happily grazing in a meadow with the explosives still strapped to its back.  No broken bones and only a minor injury to one eye.

After lunch at Jammer Joe’s we clambered aboard the bus and headed for Banff.  Other than a bathroom break and a quick stop for supper at a small town along the way we cruised along steadily.  Oh, yeah, we had to go through the border crossing.  Fortunately it was fairly easy this time; we all had to fill out a paper and send our passports in with Dave and Tom to the guard house or whatever it’s called and off we went again.  From what I heard, sometimes they are forced to empty the bus while all the luggage is rifled through by the border people.  

With about six hours travel time this afternoon and evening the party started up at the back of the bus again.  Lots of conversation.  Some silly, some serious and usually interspersed with shouts of an animal sighting from someone further up toward the front with more serious dedication to the tourism experience than those of us at the back. Today's big sighting: long horn sheep.

We got to our lovely hotel around 9pm and it seems Banff may be a town that doesn’t sleep.  People are crowding down the sidewalk and the hustle and bustle still sounds like midday in Berlin.  Our suite is awesome with a balcony out front and another out back over the pool.  Two TVs, two rooms, two sinks and I haven’t checked yet to see if there are two toilets.  Probably not.  Too bad we’re usually too tired to watch TV.  But it feels luxurious knowing we could each watch whatever we want if we were up to it.  Deadliest Catch and Ice Road Truckers are just not on my favorites list.  Duck Dynasty we agree on.  

Time to go relax on a balcony.

Day Six

After a short devotional by Mose Yoder we pulled out of the hotel parking lot and headed for Kalispell, Montana.  The weather was perfection, blue skies and just a little brisk.    

Since we're doing a bit of driving today it was a good time to tell stories.  Different people went to the mic at the front of the bus to share and reminisce.  Most of the time, peels of laughter mingled with the tales, and most of the time, those tales involved Dave.  

Like the time in Europe when he catapulted down an airport escalator along with numerous pieces of luggage only to find, after the dust settled, that his pants were ripped in several places.  To further add to his consternation, when he opened a suitcase to retrieve a new pair, he yanked out his replacement trousers and colorful underwear went sailing across the open space among the travelers scurrying by.  

Then there was the time on a snowmobiling trip when he was sporting a shiny, scratch-free shield on his helmet.  You know, the flip up kind you can open as you drive.  Cruising up the trail in the cold, clear air he did what men are prone to do and spit enthusiastically only to realize too late that his shield was still down.  This didn't happen once or twice, but THREE times.  Much to his disgust and to all of our amusement.

Early afternoon found us at the Missoula Smokejumpers Visitor Center. An interesting tour followed with information about the brave men and women who parachute in to the sites of forest fires in a five hundred mile radius.  Other Smokejumper sites are scattered around the northwest, as far  away as Alaska.  When training, applicants must be able to carry 110 pounds for at least three miles, within ninety minutes.  As it should be, the physical requirements are the same for both men and women.  Our guide told us that some fairly petite women have passed the test.  Without doubt they are in somewhat better condition than yours truly.

Just after 4PM we drove into an idyllic setting that would be hard to beat, anywhere.  Simon Ray and Esta Miller from St Ignatius, Montana have a home surrounded by lush green grass bordered with a perfusion of beautiful and colorful flowers. The backdrop of mountains feels like it’s just across the field, although they are surely much further.  Tables were set up on the patio and a home-cooked Amish-style meal was ready for us.  How could this get any better?  Well, it did.

My cousin, Rudy Byler, and his lovely wife Esther, live in Bonner’s Ferry, Idaho.  On the map it looked like barely a stone’s throw away, as they say.  So I called them yesterday to see if they’d want to pop in and favor us with a visit since we were passing through.  Always up for an adventure they said, “Sure!”  So they were there waiting for us. 

After hugs and greetings all around someone asked them how long it had taken to get there from Bonner’s Ferry.  “Four hours,” they said.  FOUR HOURS?! We exclaimed.  “Oh that’s not far when you live out west,” they laughed. I’m thinking this is the same pioneer spirit that the originals had when this land was settled in the first place.

Having them there made an already special evening all the more so.  And, as it turned out, there were others on the bus besides me and my siblings that they knew.  Some of them had not seen each other in forty or fifty years!  How fun to reconnect after all that time.  

We decided this was a perfect setting for a group photo.  Anyone who has ever tried to get forty-three people to cooperate for a picture will appreciate the chaos that ensued.  But we managed it somehow. And then it was back on the bus once again.

It was after 8 by the time we arrived at our hotel in Kalispell.  Rejuvinated from our fun time in St. Ignatious a party was in full swing at the back of the bus.  (Edna and Marge are instigators in case anyone is interested in knowing where the blame lies.)  And who should be waiting to greet us when we got there?  Christ's sister and her husband from, you guessed it: Bonner's Ferry!  So, another family reunion, introductions, and more happy times.

And now, a card game awaits.  This is fun.

Day Five; August 12, 2013

Last night we arrived in Jackson Hole, Wyoming after dark.  Everyone pretty much went straight to bed, I think.  Or at least we did, after a quick supper from the local grocery.  This morning we were able to see the beautiful place we had spent the night.  What a charming town!  Even the K Mart had log siding and better-than-average merchandise.  I imagine the building codes are a nightmare.  No billboards, no tall signs and every building fitting the plan.  Not one nasty paint job in the lot.

We left our hotel around 8:30 and spent the day appreciating some of the best scenery around.  Lake Jenny and Lake Lewis, surrounded with tall pines, rocks and general beauty all around.  More views of the Tetons with a stop or two for photos.

Onward to Yellowstone, we reached Old Faithful around 1:30.  As expected the geyser blew its top on schedule.  We ate lunch, had huge ice-cream cones and bought a few souvenirs for the grandkids.  I scored a book called "Who Pooped in the Woods."  Only high-brow stuff for the offspring of my offspring!

We stopped for a look at an amazing waterfall and then to see the "Grand Canyon of Yellowstone."  The colors in the rock faces of the cliffs are amazing, the result of runoff from the hot-springs in the area which contain iron deposits and such.  We also crossed the continental divide about three times.

 Among all of us on the bus, we spotted various bison, elk, antelope, a bear, and of course the chipmunk that was running around inside the cafe at Old Faithful.  And we saw people who claimed to have seen a moose although they had no proof aside from the small crowd that had gathered to point and gawk.

After a brief stop at Mammoth Hot Springs we exited the northern end of the park at Gardiner, Montana.  The town looked like a vintage western movie set, only more authentic.  We all split up to find places to eat so we wouldn't overwhelm one small place.  Our group of eight ended up at The Two-bit Saloon.

They weren't kidding, from the looks of things.  We trooped in and quadrupled their customer base.  Since we only had forty-five minutes until we had to be back on the bus, Paul questioned one of the two barely-twenty-year-old gentlemen behind the bar as to the possibility of all of us being served with time left to eat.  One of them assured us he could do it.

I had seen several round tables out back in an ancient courtyard and I asked if we could eat out there.  He said sure, no problem as long as we don't drink on the sidewalk.  I promised him we'd control ourselves.  He said we should place our orders and wait out back.  Someone ordered water.  He pointed us to the glasses stacked on a tray on top of a nearby refrigerator and told us to fill the glasses at a blue plastic igloo in the room with the pool table.  I fought back my desire to giggle and started filling water glasses.  No one paid me the least attention when I helped myself to silverware and I saw Paul carrying out a container of ketchup and a salt shaker.

In no time our young chef served us some mouthwatering buffalo burgers (yes, buffalo) with a huge serving of french fries that four of us ended up sharing.  Everyone else in our little party said their food was equally delicious.  It was a perfect evening to eat outside and a delightful time altogether.  Everyone on the bus seemed well-satisfied with their own experiences as well.

Card games are happening in the dining room as I write.  I saw others standing outside visiting.  Several are doing laundry (one of them is even doing mine!).  The more I hang out with these people the more I like them.

Day Four

I learned this morning that “leaving by 7AM” actually means “Be down and ready to stow your bags under the bus by 6:45.”  This was announced at some point but I missed it.  Not too surprising.  I miss a lot of things, actually more and more the older I get.  So I’m making a final sweep of our hotel room to check for possessions, load myself down with the two remaining suitcases, my backpack-slash-purse, and my computer bag, (Paul took his bags and left earlier to go eat breakfast) and I walked into the elevator feeling satisfied that I even had a few minutes to spare.  Good.  I can grab a cup of coffee for the road and still be out to the bus by 7:00. 

Well, I notice there is no one I know in the breakfast area so I look outside at the bus and see all the luggage compartments are closed and they seem to be ready to roll.  Well, I was brought up to believe that it would be better to have a hole open up beneath one and be swallowed alive than to be late.  So, appropriately horrified, I rush to the bus dragging my bags behind me.  Yes, indeed, they are all sitting there waiting on me.  No coffee for me this morning I guess.  This alone would be cause for a whole blog, dedicated to the emotional stress of me not getting my morning caffeine.  I quickly realize that making these people wait one second longer would be even worse than no caffeine.   Then I realize I still have my hotel keys in my pocket, so I run them in.  Passing the coffee pot I grab a cup and rush back to the bus.

“Where are your sisters?” A voice came from the back.  I looked where they had been sitting.  Empty.

“Are you kidding?!”  I couldn’t believe they were even later than me.  “You ARE kidding!  They’re hiding in the back.  Very funny!”

“No we aren’t.” Several people insisted.  “They haven’t come out yet.”

Just then my sister Barbara came rushing out the door, pulling her bag.  She looked as flustered as I felt when she saw everyone was ready to go.  She walked to her seat, then stopped and exclaimed, “Oh, I still have my keys!”  There was general laughter at that and one of the guys volunteered to run them in.  In less than a minute my sister Anne joined us and we were underway.  I filled them in on my new knowledge regarding the “fifteen minutes before departure time” rule.  We all agreed we won’t ever be the last ones on again.  It took me an hour to achieve a normal heart rate again.

Just under two hours later, during which we sang worship songs, led by Paul, and listened to a short sermon by Larry Lamp, we were parked beside the road again.  Investigation by Crist, our resident Amish mechanic whom we were fortunate to have along, showed a leak in a hose and a hole in a pipe, causing loss of fluid.  It was a time to test our mettle and we came through it well.  Five hours later we all knew each other a little better, we had done a little hiking, peed in the woods, taken our turns with traffic control, learned there are a lot of really nice motorists out there, made friends with a trooper, and watched Irene scrub the grease off Dave’s head, arms and legs. And squirrels were added to a few scavenger-hunt lists.

Tony and Lexi, a couple in their twenties, more or less, pulled up to see if they could help.  Tony opened his trunk and pulled out some tools to help the guys fix the bus.  Lexi talked to the ladies and soon discovered she is a relative to Carolyn’s neighbor in Ohio.  So photos were taken and exclamations made.  Those are some long odds, eh?!

After an hour or two of the guys trying to fix the problem with what lay at hand, three firefighters pulled up and ransacked their own truck.  They gave a container of anti-freeze and some other items unknown to me that might be helpful in the bus repairs.  A pick-up came by and took several of the unoccupied guys to fill a large ice-chest with water to refill the radiator.  And eventually a state trooper pulled up.  We couldn’t call for help because cell service was nonexistent.  We lost count of the people that stopped and offered assistance.  Several even volunteered to shuttle us to a café down the mountain.

Eventually it became clear the problem could not be fixed without a torch to do some soldering.  The trooper took Dave to a town “nearby” to get one.  “Nearby” means something entirely different in Wyoming than it does in Ohio.  Spirits remained high while we waited for their return.  The weather was perfect.  The jokes flew steadily.  The hikers hiked.  The singers sang.  Paul sat on a stool and played guitar.  Someone, trying to be funny, put a cup nearby for tips and he made five dollars.

By the time they got back clouds were rolling in and just as the last water was dumped in the radiator it started to rain in earnest.  We loaded up the bus, gave the trooper an enthusiastic hand for rescuing us and another hand to Crist for putting everything back together again. He drives a buggy back home but he sure knows what he's doing under the hood. And Dave, our fearless leader, told us all when we were once again sailing down the highway to let him know if we see a bus for sale.  More laughter and the fun commences.

Our scheduled chuck wagon meal with entertainment included had to be cancelled as soon as we were in an area with cell phone service.  We wouldn’t be reaching our evening destination until 9 PM.  A quick stop at a small town whose name I don’t remember and we grabbed McDonalds’ lunches to go.

The scenery was beautiful in its stark barrenness. Occasional washes, now dry, with scrubby trees lining the banks gave way to cultivated fields bordered by more rocky mountain ranges in the distance.  Groups of antelopes grazed, unconcerned with our passing or the horses and cows sharing their fields.  My popping ears indicated the ups and downs of our elevation; eventually we reached the continental divide and the pines increased, along with the green vegetation and meandering waterways.  The majestic Tetons appeared far off on the horizon, bringing out the cameras along with the oohs and ahhs.

The Glory of God revealed itself over and over to this little group today.  It takes much more faith to believe in evolutionary theory than in intelligent design. Such beauty is not coincidental.  Such beauty comes from a mind of brilliance far greater than ours. 

Our hotel was a welcome sight a little before 9PM.  Those beds look very inviting.

Day Three

This morning we said good-bye to my nephew Mike and headed west into a light rain.  One thing I find so special is the short devotional and prayer each morning, presented by someone on the bus as we travel down the highway.  This group of people is proof that living out your faith does not mean being dour, humorless and devoid of fun.

We stopped for our first break at a roadside rest displaying models of Lewis and Clark's exploratory expedition complete with teepees, campfire, and more.  A spectacular view of the great Missouri River, from a hill whose sides were crisscrossed with walking trails and surrounded by forest, invited further exploration but time did not allow.  We finally forced ourselves back on the bus and turned toward the badlands.

I've already used the word spectacular in this blog post but I don't have a better one so I'll apply it again.  Even though everyone knows that photos don't do anything justice, it was useless trying to stop ourselves from snapping shots of everything we could.  

While winding our way through the beautiful, desolate hills the engine light lit up.  This happened to Paul and I at home and I promptly pulled out the owner's manual to see what it meant.  The book informed me that it could be nothing or it could be very bad.  Useless information, really.  Fortunately, on today's road trip we had several mechanically inclined people aboard who promptly investigated.  It seems a pulley thingey came off of something in the rear underside of the bus causing a belt to come loose and fall off.  The fan to cool the engine would not be working without it.

As luck would have it, or much more likely, the mercy of God, hundreds of motorcycles were passing us in the oncoming lane, presumably coming from the Sturges bike rally.  Paul H. flagged down a bearded wonder and asked him to kindly keep an eye out for the pulley and the belt back up the way we had just come.  In minutes he returned with the belt but no pulley.  Thanks to the ingenuity of several guys on the bus the belt was rigged up to work the fan that cooled the engine but we would have no A/C until parts could be flown in two days hence.

Fortunately it was not unduly hot.  However, temperatures in a bus filled with forty-three heat-producing bodies does rise considerably when windows can't be opened.  Armed with effective deodorant and healthy senses of humor throughout made the whole experience quite tolerable.

We arrived at Wall Drug Store, barely late for lunch.  The food was excellent and the coffee hot, black and strong - and only a nickle a cup.  Then back on the bus, warming up nicely while we were gone, and we were bound for Mt. Rushmore. 

Disembarking from a steamy bus into the cool breezes of a perfectly balmy day is a delightful experience.  Had the A/C been cranking away we would not have been able to fully appreciate that cool breeze for the simple pleasure it was.  A quick walk brought us to the lookout patio to see Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt, and Lincoln, their granite faces keeping silent vigil over the people streaming to and fro beneath them.  How many of the tourists milling like ants around me had any idea what these men had risked for America?  I couldn't help but wonder.  How many

understood the raw courage, the inspiration, the creative genius, that helped to shape this nation into the greatest republic on the planet? Or were they there just because of the impressive artistic achievement the sculpture represented?

Back on the bus and on up the road to take a look at Crazy Horse.  No discernible progress could be seen since I had last been here two decades ago. Even so, the huge rock carving of the famous Native American Chief reminded of a once proud people whose legacy still permeates the land surrounding the cliffs.

On the way to Gillette, WY we watched storms in the distance, black and threatening, yet never coming

close.  Jagged shards of lightening reached to the earth, the clouds moving alongside and away without so much as a drop of rain touching us.  This big sky country has a foreign look to someone accustomed to rolling hills and curving country roads. I felt small and insignificant and strangely vulnerable. Usually, at home, when one sees a storm, one also gets to taste it up close and personal. 

,

We pulled in to our hotel, a tired and sweaty bunch just before 7:00. Six of us were walking to a nearby Applebees for supper when another storm decided to give us a taste of what it had to offer.  Again, the brilliant lightening was startling and different from the lightening back home.  It felt like it could reach out and snatch us, and I thought of the legends of Pecos Bill lassoing a tornado.  It felt so close and looked so foreboding. This weather must be fairly commonplace because the locals paid it no mind at all. 

Our lovely hotel sent a van for us after supper.  Since we had started eating it had rained, hailed, rained some more, and showed no signs of letting up.  More than a dozen of us piled into a van meant for a few less people.  General merriment and mayhem ensued.  

I think the heat sent us all to bed early.  No games developed in the lobby tonight.

Day Two

All the people who toured the insemination farm this morning, (or rather procurement-of-the-product-to-inseminate farm), came back to the hotel with varying expressions on their faces.  I decided opting out was the right decision for me although they all assured me it was "very educational and very interesting."  There are some things I am happier not knowing.  I mean, just because I love bacon does not mean I need to know how to field dress a hog.

Today is another "driving day" with stops every few hours for the bladder-challenged and the hungry.  My co-travelers made it a fun day even so.  Funny stories were told, songs were sung, home-made treats passed around and general enjoyment was there for the taking.

I've checked a few more things off my scavenger-hunt list and I discovered a new means of entertainment.  Look out the window and randomly say "Yes!" with extreme satisfaction, then watch the heads turn and hear the groans of "what? where is it? what did I miss?"  If I'm honest, I'll admit I'm usually the one groaning and missing.

A little before 5:00 PM we pulled in to Mitchell, SD.  After unloading ourselves at the Corn Palace we learned a few interesting and unusual facts about corn.  It can be used as a reason for large festivals involving thousands of people all converging on the aforementioned Mitchell and it is also quite the decorative tool as proven by the murals inside, as well as the palace's exterior facade.  I couldn't help but wonder how many other things there are in this country I know nothing about. 

After an hour or so exploring the wonders of corn art we were dropped off at our hotel. Who should be sitting there waiting for us in the lobby but my nephew Mike from WV!  A long-distance trucker, he had heard we were going to be at this hotel tonight; since he was happening through he made his own reservations and spent the evening with us.  It was off to supper at Ruby Tuesday's, just across the parking lot for some mouth-watering food and then back to the hotel for some card games. (Once again, we turned a head or two during supper with our enthusiastic excitement about a U-haul trailer sighting - another scavenger hunt acquisition.)

Tonight, I'm the one still wide awake and Paul is passed out cold. Day two is done.

Bus Trip, Day One

We've never gone on an extended bus trip before.  I mean, isn't that for the geriatric set? And we're, well, ahem, uh, we're still young.  But when our friends (who just happen to own a bus line) asked us to join them and their extended family on a trip to the Canadian Rockies, even Paul couldn't refuse.  He who had always declared he would not consider such a thing just told me a few minutes ago that he was quite enjoying himself.  And so am I.  I brought some of my own family along.  My brother, his wife, and two of my sisters.  Since they all live quite a distance from us it's a little family reunion wrapped in a trip.

We left before 7:00 this morning for a day filled with conversation and much laughter.  It helped that we know most of the people on the bus.  Even though we're not "blood" they made us feel at ease and welcome.  And Paul is finding out how nice it is to simply climb on board and not worry about a thing.  No crazy GPS to tell us to "make a u-turn" as she recalculates.  No decisions on which hotel to book and where to eat.  It's all taken care of.  And the whole lot of us are involved in a scavenger hunt which I have no hope of winning but which I find highly entertaining none-the-less.

Six of us were seated around a stone table outside a restaurant called Culver's, enjoying a delightful supper, when someone said, "Is that a white limousine?"   All heads in earshot turned to the vehicle in question, including, I'm sure, the people who were not on our bus.

"It is! It's a limo!" Someone else shouted.  "Awesome!" said another.  "Yes!  A limo!  A WHITE limo!" The high level of excitement told the people at the next table we didn't get out much.  One would have thought we were on a mission to catch a rare sighting of an endangered species.  Well, we were, kind of.  It is one of the things on our scavenger hunt list and it's not like we're headed for LA or something.  I mean, we're in Wisconsin in the middle of farm country. And what's more fun than knowing you're confirming your insanity to people you'll never see again anyway?!  The bumblebee in the flowering bushes and the crow descending from a nearby tree brought forth similar excitement. 

Having been awake since around three AM, and edging ever closer to the "geriatric" genre myself, I knew an early night was my lot.  Paul still hasn't returned from the rowdy card games ensuing in the hotel lobby/breakfast room.  I'll have to hear about it in the morning.

Tomorrow there's a tour scheduled at a nearby farm to learn more about artificial insemination.  I'm passing on that one.  And then it's on to the corn palace.  I have no idea what that is but by tomorrow night I will.  I may even score some photos.