Wednesday August 26

All along I was dreading washing the truck and camper....it had so many bugs on it that the front of the camper was black.....it would have taken forever to scrub them off. I also could not find any DIY carwashes with bays that the camper would fit in. I decided to try one of the truck washes that some of the truck stops had. Holy moly.........was I glad I did. A guy was actually going to wash it for me. I asked the guy if he thought he could get all those bugs off and he said that he thought he could. Every single bug was washed from the truck and camper.......it was gleaming.....total cost of the wash???? 13 bucks.....and it took them a grand total of 9 minutes to do the job. I was in a state of euphoria...I got my whole day back for a mere 13 dollars. I was so pumped I had the oil changed too....where the oil change kid notified me that a mouse had taken up residence in the air filter during the trip.

Drove more.....to Toledo Ohio.....Sat in the rain for the Toledo Mud Hens game to start but it never did.....one of the players ran around the bases on the tarp and dove head first into second and again into home, the crowd went wild......the game was postponed so I kept driving.....and driving........

Tuesday August 25

Drove....drove.....drove....

Stopped at the Herbert Hoover birthplace for a walk around......not my cup of tea but it was good to stretch the legs a bit. Hoover was known as the fishing president. He was integral in preserving land for National Parks including a few I’d been in on this trip. Gleaning a book about his fishing exploits in the gift shop, I noticed he’d fished nearly all the rivers I’d fished on my trip......pretty cool.

Next stop was Ronald Reagan’s boyhood home.......a snoozer.

More driving....stopped just west of Chicago and attended another baseball game. The Kane County Cougars.....it was tons of fun and a much warmer experience that last nights game. Caught a foul ball, ate 2 delicious ears of corn, and found myself upstairs on this upper patio engaged in a conversation with an usher named Margaret. She told me that the area’s largest industry was this place that actually attempted to split atoms. She said that right beneath where we were standing was a 5 mile wide circular tunnel used to get the atoms up to speed before smashing them together.

There was also a group of people up on the deck that were having a private party for their kid, Tyler Ladendorf, who was just traded to the Cougars. Before I knew it I was part of the family......Curt, Stu, and Justin let me into their worlds for a few hours.

Stu was a mechanic who taught classes on transmissions for a local college. He was the nicest of guys and the kindest of souls......we hit it off pretty good and he just couldn’t believe that I just happened to stop here on my way though the area.......we discussed all things Chicago and Boston.

Uncle Curt was the one who initially welcomed me into the group. He was thrilled about his nephew’s success. He went around egging everyone on.....he was the life of the party.

Justin was a 3rd year middle school PE teacher who had started school that day....I felt bad for him. We traded a few PE war stories and I asked him which units his students enjoyed the best.....his number one answer was.....the game that is a microcosm of life.....the game that teaches you how you lose with grace....dodgeball.

I was introduced to every member of the family, offered drinks, and even a piece of birthday cake...I think I even ended up in the family photograph.

We said our goodbyes, hugged it out, and I headed back downstairs when the game was over.......where I ran into the elated....and intoxicated....Sue. They were letting people, kids mostly, run the bases after the game, so I asked Sue if she wanted to run with me and she said yes.......so we ran together all the way around while Margaret the usher yelled “Go Boston” from the upper deck ...I wasn’t sure Sue was going to make it but gave me a high five and a hug as she crossed home plate. Sue and her husband Joe had visited Glacier national park many times and were pumped that I did the same. Sue said, “It gave me ten thousand heart attacks driving up that road.”

Drove for another couple of hours after the game and noticed a sign that said, “Michael Jackson’s Boyhood Home 1 Mile Ahead”. It was after 11pm but I thought what the heck. I headed in to what was basically..... the ghetto. Driving up to the house, the first thing I noticed was a police car parked out front. The house was very small almost as small as a large shed you’d store your lawnmower in. Arranged neatly outside the front door were lots of flowers and stuffed animals. I had the feeling that someone was still living in the house and that they had tidied up and arranged all the articles so that their yard wasn’t a mess. Around the back I noticed that the shades were drawn but lights were on. It was hard to imagine that the King of Pop and his brothers all lived under this one small roof....Michael had spent his first eleven years there. I also though it was a little weird that someone else was living in the Jackson’s house.

Monday August 24

Longest driving day of the trip so far.....probably 10 hours before stopping at the Iowa Cubs game in Des Moines. I got in the door for a dollar as it was dollar night at the park. The place turned out to be pretty sterile and stuffy and the crown didn’t show much enthusiasm. At the end of the game the scoreboard urged the crowd to “Make Noise!” A bunch of little kids up in a sky box were tooting these funny little horns and were yelled at by some adults because they were making too much noise.....????.

Sunday August 23

Drove east out of Cody, Wyoming up over a 9000 ft pass in the Bighorn National Forest. My goal was to eat another one of those delicious steaks at the Alpine Inn in the Black hills of South Dakota. After a 7 hour drive I arrived to find that they were closed on Sundays.....I should have called first. It only took me a little out of the way and I ended up at the County Fair in Rapid City, SD. It was an ok diversion from driving.....but that’s about it....It was pretty lame. Rapid City is a little rough around the edges and the townies were out in full force.

I still had steak on the brain and I hadn’t hit a Golden Corral on my trip yet.... needless to say, the steak was extra good at the Corral.....along with the rest of the buffet.

I continued east and ended up stopping back at Wall Drug for the night as the wind and lightening increased. I stopped at Wall because I didn’t want to be exposed sleeping at one of the truck stops on the wide open grasslands of SD. Before I stopped I was making crazy gas mileage as the wind was pushing the broad back of the camper right along down the highway.

Saturday August 22

On my way into Yellowstone I drove south along the Madison River where I saw the Butte boys from yesterday floating along the river in their raft......I blasted the horn and they all gave a hearty wave. It was around 10am......they’d clearly risen a few hours later than planned.

Fished a Tom Sauer special secret spot right outside the West Yellowstone entrance to the park. Special thanks go once again to the elusive and cagy former Montana guide, Tom Sauer, for giving me some nuggets of info that helped make the trip. His directions took me to yet another magnificent spot.......wild, mountainous, and quiet. Among other smaller trout I caught one brutish 16 inch rainbow. I figured this might be the last time I’d be fishing on the trip so I savored every moment. Before I left I stuffed my hat in my waders and splashed water all over my face and head......baptized by the holy water I hoped I’d be knee deep in Montana again sooner than later.......

Showered in the same shower at the Old Faithful Inn that I’d used 3 times previous and then sat in the lobby for a few hours.....what I really wished was that my family was with me, sitting alongside me in those legendary chairs. I hoped that someday we could all be together in a place like Yellowstone. In a way, it would be kind of a culminating activity for lives filled with camping and the outdoors. Something about all of us sitting in those chairs in what could be described as the holiest temple of nature, the Old Faithful Inn, its 100 year old lodge pole pine beams high above and the wildest of America outside ..... it would just seem right.

Driving through the park I spoke to a guy who told me that today was “Christmas in August” in the park. On this day some years ago a bunch of snow fell, trapping visitors in the inns and campgrounds for a few days. With nothing to do they decided to celebrate Christmas (don’t ask me why) and the tradition was started. The supposed highlight was a parade of boats decorated with Christmas lights driven by Lake Lodge on Yellowstone Lake.....it turned out to be a bust as the boats were no where near shore and not all that decorated.....oh well.

Out of the park to Wally in Cody.....again 40 plus campers.

Friday August 21

Tried the Lower Ruby this morning.....a way shorter drive from town. The only species of trout that I hadn’t caught on the trip so far that I should have was a brown. I’d heard that that’s all there were in the lower Ruby. For three hours of fishing I managed one measly brown. Drove into town and took a nap with the genny, tv and ac on. I returned to the Lower Ruby again at dusk.......and caught no fish at all.....couldn’t believe that there were no fish rising to the billions of bugs flying around.

On my way back to Yellowstone I stopped in a town called Ennis where the scene at the two local bars was raging. Ennis is sort of a gateway town to fishing the over popular Madison River and it definitely has a “wild west” flair to it. There was a band playing that seemed to specialize in 80’s music which was cool......the guitar guy loved Van Halen and they played at least 4 VH songs including Panama and Eruption......you can imagine. By the time I left the place it was 3am, I’d drank about ten Pepsi’s, none of which I paid for, and had conversation with nearly everyone in the place. Highlights included four guys from the city of Butte who were away from their wives etc for a guys weekend. This one kid named Mono (short for Monahan) was the life of the party. He kept calling me UMass (probably stemming from the fact that his only encounter with Massachusetts was the 1AA playoff confrontations between the Montana Grizz and UMass football during the last few years)....he loved my accent and told me I reminded him of Matt Damon and all the recent films that took place in Boston. He and his buddies were going to a ten hour float and fish down the Madison in a raft tomorrow and begged me to come along. I told them I had to keep moving and declined their offer.......again and again for the next 3 hours. They were all a blast.....I learned a lot including the fact that these dudes were going to use lures to fish and not flies. I found this amazing. Here we are at the Mecca of fly fishing and these heathens were going to fish it with lures. I loved that......they were from Montana and I guess the natives have a little different outlook on fishing than the snobby tourists who were willing to shell out $500 for the exquisite privilege of fly fishing one of the great rivers of the west.

Other notables included
-a guy and his wife who were planning to go to the annual Virginia City Ball, a total gala where everyone dresses up in period costumes and dances the night away
-a guy in a cowboy had that claimed he was a senator who all he really wanted to do was pick fights with everyone
-a 21 year old girl who was trying college for the “last time”, she’d done a stint in rehab and seemed to be getting it together
-and the singer of the band, this rail thin guy who sang a few songs using his wireless mike from the middle of the street outside the place.

Everyone (except the “senator”) was really fun to talk to....I learned a lot about what it meant to them to be from Montana. I fell asleep in the camper across the street to the thumping sounds of the bands equipment being loaded into the trailer.

Thursday August 20

Woke and fished my brains out....stayed out for hours. One of my goals was to catch the elusive Arctic Grayling.....and I managed several beauties.....as well as cutthroat, rainbows, and even a few of the ever popular mountain whitefish. The section of river I was fishing was virtually pressure free, seldom fished by anyone. I had the place to myself and I was indeed alone in the wild.......it was one of the highlights of my entire trip, and was the experience I’d been most seeking when I left Sterling four weeks ago. Well over 40 fish caught by day’s end......I couldn’t have asked for more.

After trying a few different spots further down stream I headed back down the dusty road to Dillon. I wondered what the place was like in winter....... so I asked the waitress at the Pizza Hut in town some questions. She said it was miserably cold and snowy and that her school had zero snow days. She said her father had to bust through the snow at end of her driveway with a backhoe in order to get out........

She also said that her school football program was one of the best in the state and that on some Friday’s, the players were dismissed around noon for away games that were as far as 4 hours away.....they didn’t stay overnight after the game and often returned home around 3am Saturday morning.