And Then, Heaven!

We decided, looking back (literally), that it had been a good thing we stayed in Sheriden because we got the Bighorns in the morning. The drive up them was splendiferous--suddenly the air felt good and green trees were showing up. These mountains are my favorite place we've been so far.

The view over the plains from whence we had come was overwhelming. All along the way, signs pointed out rock strata billions of years old and their geologic ages: goose egg, 10 sleep, etc. Throughout this part of the trip, it's been obvious that rocks rule the world. In SD the mounds and buttes looked as if they would get up and roar out songs or mysterious folks would emerge from them to proclaim a new world order. Here, the uplift and layering was all the drama you could need.

Broo ha ha! Narnia and the North! (Anyone know who says it and in which book?)

Due to some cancellations of plans with relatives, we also realized that we could now slow waaaaay down. We climbed up through what the park people said were Doug Firs but looked more like Lodgepole pines. And then down into some more barren, but beautiful land, with sunburned layers of grey, red, and white rock in fantastic formations. We saw thousands of grey, dead pines and soon came to a turnout where we could read about them.

A giant tornado had swept through the place in 1959. (Tornado! Not again!) Then, a pine bark beetle had come and infested the trees. They were dealing with it in interesting ways, but it was an awful thing to see.

Shell Creek
We continued heading down and came to this wonderful throughway of green and saw displays on how important this creek was for the whole valley below. In the store was a CD by "The Singing Rangers"--fiddle, banjo, etc. I was tempted! They were all so cute in their ranger outfits.

They had feeders out for hummers and listed about five kinds, including one we heard that is distinguished by its chattering. None of them seemed as agressive as ours, which will go right after you the minute you step out the door.

Cody
Down we plunged into stark, dramatic country with even more geologic uplift, red rocks, startling formations. We cruised through Buffalo and then came to Cody. An Albertson's! Hurrah! I even liked seeing a Tully's, a place I've never visited. The place felt like a mini-Aspen as I imagine Aspen. The usual tourist cowboy stuff (including a cowboy revue that was, at least, tempting to me).

Buffalo Bill SP
Past Cody, a giant resevoir opened out along the side of the road, in completely barren country. Scott was entranced by the idea of a lake, so we stopped and decided to camp there for the night. The wind blew hard across the lake, the campsites were stripped down, but the sun shone, it was early in the afternoon, and we just kicked back.

We saw these cool birds--black and white, noisy, with looong tails. (And we kept seeing them later--postscript). Bigger than a jay, smaller than a crow. What the heck are they? Anyone? Quenn? Dixie?

While I've had almost no allergies (or asthma!) ever since sinus surgery, I had been waking up in the middle of the night with goop. Here: nada. This is allergy heaven, at least, I think, for most people. And NO BUGS. We're finally feeling as if we're on vacation. We played some tunes, had some dinner, took a walk. Then, to top it all off, the full moon rose and told us good night.