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| Could Brad be smiling because he's thinking of breakfast in Cooke City? |
Another night, another night of poor quality sleep. I must have finally hydrated myself because I was up twice to take a squirt. After my second foray to the pissing rock, sleep would not come again. Great. it's 4:45 AM and I'm wide awake. Finally, at 5:15, I said "screw it" and started to quietly begin packing for the hike out. The original plan was to wake up at 6:00, pack up and go, but I could tell that wasn't going to be the case because I had another brilliant plan: breakfast in Cooke City--- and I would make enough noise packing up to make sure the plan commenced before 6 AM.
Fifteen minutets later I could hear Ward moving about in his tent and whispered my thoughts about breakfast in Cooke City. He thought it was a swell idea after I told him Cooke was a great little mountain town. Now all I had to do was wake Brad and all wheels would be put in motion.
It was 5:52 AM when I crept up to Brads tent, camera in hand, and gave the whistle a shrill blast about 3 feet from Brad's face. Needless to say, he was wide awake instantaneously.
At 6:20 we were on our way, three highly-motivated hikers on a quest for food.
We followed the stream back down to trail 620 and then kicked it into overdrive. The only real surprise on the hike out was discovering a rather large up at the Beauty Lake trail junction which was not a welcome sight. Other than that, the trail was all downhill and fast.
We arrived back at the Island Lake trailhead shortly after 8:00AM stoked for a good breakfast. I figured we should be in Cooke City by 9 AM, feedbag strapped on by 9:20. I was craving all the good stuff: eggs, sausage, bacon, toast and a big glass of milk.
I pulled out the car remote and tried to open the doors. It didn't work. Oh well, the thing had been buggy for the last year and figured the cold temperatures had finally taken its toll on the battery. I opened the truck the old fashihoned way (for those of you too young to know, we used to unlock car doors with the key itself. We also used to listen to 8-track tapes but that's a story for another time) as Ward and Brad dumped their packs. Our Beartooth trip was over.
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| A look back during our short hike out. |
I went to the driver side door console to unlock the rest of the doors and back. Uh oh, it's not working. I slid behind the wheel, inserted the key and turned it...
Nothing.
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| Three smelly dudes at the Island Lake trailhead |
What the fuck?! I told the other's of the problem, but wasn't worried. I was pretty sure I had jumper cables in the back, and we had a full campground less than a quarter mile away. A quick emptying of the trusty Santa Fe's cargo area revealed the jumper cables. Whew. Kids: never go to the mountains without jumper cables...never.
Based on his superior hygiene, we sent Brad down to the campground to find a helpful person with a working automobile to run up and give us a jump while I checked the interior of the vehicle. None of the interior lights were left on. The power converters were not inserted. Again, what the fuck?!
Brad arrived shortly riding shotgun in a Dodge Ram. Our good samaritan had arrived. In no time the trusty Santa Fe was purring like a kitten and we quickly loaded the gear and crammed poor Ward into the back seat. Game on. Let's go eat. After a few minutes on the road I wanted to kick myself for not offering the guy $20 for his troubles. Dude, if you're out there send me your address---I'll send you money.
As we drove down to Cooke, I decided to make a quick detour to drive through the Beartooth Lake camp ground. I'd spent a night there in 2006 and was prepared to leave for home the next morning when I spied a truck with Wisconsin plates. Being the friendly sort that I am, I decided to introduce myself to the fellow cheeseheads and wound up spending the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon talking with Joe & Jen as well as thier friends from Cody, Cynthia and John.
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| This kind genlteman and his Ram pickup got the not-so-trusty Santa Fe rolling again. I can't remember his name but he's my hero! |
Anyway, I drove through the B loop slowly, looking for signs of either couple when I spied the familiar shape of a teardrop trailer. Slowing down even more I noticed an elderly gentleman walking to his pickup truck...It was Joe! I slammed on the breaks and jumped out of the truck, probably scaring poor Joe, and asked "Remember me?" Turns out he did and in a few seconds jen ambled by asking if I'd brought any apples this time. Yeah i had apples, but they'd been sitting in the cooler for over two weeks and probably weren't that good any more.
We talked for a few minutes---mostly about the mosquitoes and the bear the Forest Service was trying to catch---then moved on quickly. Hey, we were still hungry but it was great to see them again after two years.
Arriving in Cooke City a mere 35 minutes later we had our sights set on the Beartooth Cafe which, unfortunately, was not open for breakfast. Instead, we crossed the street and quickly were seated at the Prospector Restaurant at Soda Butte Lodge. Sitting at an actual table on actual chairs was pure pleasure, and an act I will not take for granted ever again.
Our serving wench, a fairly hot Russian girl with perfect teeth and breasts wearing hip hugging pants, brought us a pitcher of ice water and took our order. The three of us then took turns running to the rest room to wash up using real hot water and soap! After a short wait our breakfast was served. My omelet was huge, the toast warm and the hash browns a little crispy but otherwise OK.
Our blonde haired Russian girl, who turned out to be a pretty bad waitress, forgot our OJ but was quickly on task after a gentle prodding, appologizing, once again showing those pearly whites. Damn, she was looking better each time she passed by. It was then I realized I was starting to miss Yumi more and more if you know what I mean.
We finished off our breakfast while listening to some hard ass biker chick at the next table bitch at the Russian chick about getting charged for an extra coffee. I wanted to tell her---the biker chick--- to shut the fuck up but figured not all Harley Riders were wimpy optomologists from Des Moines and let it go.
After paying our bill it was time to tour Cooke City. We chose to turn left out of the restaurant and soon found ourselves at the Cooke City General Store. I knew I needed a cold Dr. Pepper but was unprepared to find a map of the wilderness area for a mere $12. I grabbed one of those, a T-shirt for Yumi and the soda. Content that I'd done my part to sustain the Cooke City economy I left the store and caught up with Brad and Ward.
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| Beautiful downtown Cooke City, MT (12T 583792 49856603). |
The trip back up the Beartooth Highway was interrupted by a quick stop at the Top of the World Store located between Island and Beartooth Lakes. I bought a few post cards and other miscellaneous trinkets for Yumi and myself, all the while amused by members of the store's staff trying to locate a bag of potatoes for a customer.
At last, it was time for the final highlight of the trip: A drive up the Beartooth Highway to Beartooth Pass. Though I'd driven this road several times before, I'd never done it from south to north so I'd be getting a different perspective of things. Too bad I had to focus on the road but I was a tour guide now and wanted to make sure Canadian Dude and Ward got the full experience.
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